#only one more longer bit and one more shorter bit to write before the chapter's finally done~

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: You're back home right when Azriel was starting to lose all hope, but is the person standing in front of him the same who disappeared all those years ago?

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury

Word Count: 6670

Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 ○ Part 3

Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.

Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.

His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.

In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.

Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.

He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.

You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.

As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.

He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.

Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.

He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.

He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.

His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.

His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.

“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.

He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.

Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.

Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.

Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.

He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.

“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.

He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.

He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.

“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.

“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.

“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.

“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”

“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.

Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.

“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”

“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.

“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.

“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.

He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.

“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?

Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.

Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.

“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.

“I will not leave her.”

“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.

Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.

He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.

He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.

Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.

“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.

“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”

He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.

“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.

When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.

Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.

Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.

That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.

“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.

“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”

“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.

“Why would she hurt you then?”

“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.

“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.

“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”

“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?

“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.

“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”

“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”

Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.

⋆｡°✩°｡⋆

You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.

You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.

The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.

You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.

Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.

Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.

You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.

As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.

You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.

As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.

You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.

You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.

The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.

When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.

“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.

“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.

“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.

Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.

The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.

As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.

If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.

Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.

Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.

You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.

When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.

Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.

You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.

A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?

“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.

Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.

You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?

Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.

“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.

He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.

You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.

“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.

Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.

“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.

“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.

You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.

The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.

“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”

taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @less-chaotic-brain @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx

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[klaus-littlestwolf]

Hybrids Mafia Princess Pt1

Mafia!Bucky’s Daughter x Klaus M.

(This will be a several chapter story and for anyone who read the original Thought I posted on it, I’ve decided to change it up a bit. The event will be the first time Klaus and Y/n meet in Klaus’ Human form)

Warning: Mentions of Traumatic Birth Resulting in a Hysterectomy, Father Abandonment, Near Death Experience

“Tag-List”: @ranisingsnew @ronswhoree @susannahmikaelson @skulliecadaver-blog

Series Masterlist

Bucky had been an amazing father throughout Y/n’s entire childhood.

She loved her Daddy more than anyone in the world and was most assuredly a Daddy’s Girl!

James Barnes had married his girl a few months after finding out she was carrying his child and he never regretted it for a moment. Honestly, he had been trying to get her pregnant since they had met. Unfortunately there had been complications during the pregnancy and their child was born at only 28 weeks, resulting in an emergency hysterectomy and one perfect (albeit early) baby girl. Bucky had been there every single day, even after his wife had been released from the hospital, visiting his Babygirl for hours every day, (regardless of any work he needed to get done) until the Doctors decided she was well enough to go home. Bucky knew, even though they could never have any more children, that Y/F/n was perfect and he would never need anything more.

He had put off his work for nearly an entire month while caring for her. His wife was healing from a traumatic birth and he refused to let anyone but the two of them hold his child. It wasn’t until some idiot made a threat against his family the he snapped back into his normal routine (after killing the idiot of course) and finally let Steve hold his daughter for the first time. Bucky knew that if anyone was going to protect his daughter with the same ferocity he would, that it would be Steve, she was his Godchild after all and he loved Bucky’s girl like his own niece.

The Mob Boss began spending shorter days working and more time with his wife and baby, wanting to be a better father than the one he had, and he was. He was the best father Y/n could have asked for…until she turned 12.

As she grew up her father spent less and less time with her and while she originally assumed it was him just being weird about her growing up, it wasn’t something he got over and it only got worse. He no longer took her to his events, no longer went on shopping trips with her or had their monthly “Daddy/Daughter Day” that had been a tradition since she was 4 years old. Not even his wife could convince him to get over whatever his problem was, knowing he didn’t know what to do with a teenage girl and that he was terrified of messing something up and hurting her and so he just pulled away completely.

Y/n missed her father more than anything and didn’t stop taking it personally until she was 16 years old and he missed her sweet 16 for work, something he had never done before. It was that day that she realized whatever his problem was, it was exactly that. His problem. She was done making excuses for him and that night she gave up on him as he had clearly done on her.

Y/n’s mother seemed to be the only one to realize that whether it took a day, a year or a decade, this would not end well for them in the end but once Bucky made his mind up there was no changing it. A trait, unfortunately, that he passed onto his daughter.

Y/n had opted not to go to college, spending her time writing books that one of her fathers publishing companies was happy to print and that (under an alias) sold very well. She knew that she wanted to leave, to get away from the big empty house where she felt unloved and unneeded, but where could she go that her father wouldn’t find her? Who could she trust that he couldn’t bribe? This was her life, whether she liked it or not, as even if her father ignored her, he would still never let her go. She knew that people would still see her as a target to get to him through, though she thought it pointless, and so he would never let her leave no matter how badly she wanted her own life.

Little did she know she was about to meet someone who would change the course of her life completely.

The true love she wrote about in her books, the fictional idea of soulmates and 2 people belonging together isn’t so fictional after all.

Klaus had spent the last thousand years with one goal in mind.

Breaking his curse.

And here he was, 1000 years after being cursed by his mother, finally free.

He had planned to change other wolves. Planned to start searching for them and building up his army so strong that no one would ever threaten him again, especially not Mikael, but that seemed to be the farthest thing from his mind right now.

He had broken the curse and daggered his brother, getting himself out of the town of horrible memories that was Mystic Falls. He was driving towards the Rocky Mountains where he knew several packs of werewolves resided but after putting up with the building pressure in his head for several hours that seemed to just get stronger and stronger he couldn’t ignore the wolf howling anymore.

He needed to run.

He was somewhere in New York, not far outside the city but far enough that the skyscrapers were gone and replaced with wonderful forests and landscapes. Parking his truck, he walked his way into the trees and laid his clothes on a log, pushing through his shift as quickly as he could and settling into his new body.

In this form he could still think clearly, but his wolf was much more at the forefront of his mind, controlling most of his actions and finally getting to enjoy himself after a millennium of being painfully repressed. And so he ran. He ran through the trees, watching other animals scatter away from his presence and it wasn’t long before he realized that his wolf was looking for something…sniffing for something. However just as he attempted to gain control and go back to the car he caught a wonderful scent. It was amazing, consisting of lavender and the smell of the sky after a heavy thunderstorm…it was the most perfect thing he had ever smelled and as his paws hit the ground hard he began to slow, rounding a line of trees and stopping short as his eyes took in the sight of a girl sat on an old dock.

Klaus could see the girls profile from where he now sat and she was gorgeous. Long, soft Y/H/c hair and big, round Y/E/c eyes that he wanted to be looking at him right now as well as a cute nose and full pink lips that his wolf seemed to only imagine wrapped around his-

His line of thought was cut off by a cracking sound from the old wood and he jumped to his feet just as the girl screamed, disappearing under the dark water. He took several steps forward, waiting to see her come back up but after 3 never ending seconds he was moving once again, faster than he ever had before. He couldn’t identify why he cared at all, only last night he was slaughtering everyone in his path after breaking his curse but now the mere thought of this girl being gone felt like someone drilling a hole into his heart.

As he got to the end of the long dock he leapt into the water, barely registering the freezing cold temperature as he swam down, seeing her flailing and instantly realizing she couldn’t swim. He grabbed the collar of her shirt with his teeth and dragged her up to the surface, pulling her up the muddy bank to the grass and watching closely as she choked up a lot of water, breathing heavily for several minutes on the ground before he nuzzled his nose against her cheek and she gasped, jumping back and nearly choking all over again.

Klaus once again felt like he wasn’t in control of his body which hated but as he laid down in front of her he whined softly, peeking up and watching as she hesitantly held out her hand and rested it on his wet head. He felt his heart stutter as she smiled down at him, continuing to scratch behind his ears with both hands now. ‘You saved my life…thank you. Good boy.’ She praised and while Klaus wanted to scoff, instead he felt his tail wagging behind him causing him to turn his head to see the offending limb and growl at it. ‘You’re a silly boy, aren’t you?’ She laughed, but as she did he noticed how her body had begun to shake from the cold. He stood, moving closer and leaning against her with his warm body making her smile. ‘Come on, let’s go get dried off, huh?’ She stood up carefully and moved to walk back passed the dock, turning to see he hadn’t budged. ‘Come on then! I’ll get you some food?’ With that promise he jumped up, trotting after her, shaking his body off as a wet dog normally would.

The walk wasn’t long before Klaus saw a cabin-like mansion in the woods making him wonder who this girl was that she lived like this, though it didn’t much matter since she was his now either way.

That thought gave him pause as it had come so casually, so normal for his brain to think but it felt right, not just to his wolf mind but to him all around, this girl is his now. He had saved her and she belongs to him.

‘Come in…shh, let’s go.’ She shushed him and he followed her through the sliding door, trying his best to keep his claws on the hard wood floor quiet as he walked through the kitchen with her and up what he assumed was a back staircase. He followed her down the upstairs hall and into a bedroom before she shut and locked the door. ‘Okay…you have to promise not to bite me, okay?’ He tilted his head before sitting down on the floor. ‘No! No, don’t sit, come on! Bathroom!’ She quickly led him to the bathroom and shut the door, turning on the shower. It was a large bathroom and he decided to do as she asked, walking into the glass shower with her as he truly recognized that he was covered in mud. The shower head turned on and rained down from the ceiling and he somehow felt even more like a wet dog as he sat down, grumbling before turning his head and feeling his eyes widen when he realized that his girl had completely stripped naked. She grabbed some shampoo and knelt down beside him, scrubbing the mud away as much as she could and he whined, nuzzling his face between her breasts as she did making her giggle and turn his face away. ‘Bad dog.’ She scolded with a smile on her face.

He allowed her to scrub him with the shampoo before sitting against the wall and watching as she washed her own hair, enjoying the sight he was being gifted from the Gods right now.

The shower was over quickly and she held Klaus down, rubbing him over with a towel before using another one for herself and pulling on some fuzzy pajamas.

‘Okay, are you hungry? You want some food buddy, huh?’ He barked and she laughed, opening the door and walking back down the stairs to the kitchen where a man stood eating ice cream. ‘Hey Steve.’ She greeted and as the man went to greet her back he jumped, staring at Klaus in shock.

‘Y/n! What the Fuck is that thing?!’ He snapped.

Huh…Y/n. At least now he knows his girls name.

‘It’s called a wolf Steve…are you losing it?’ She teased, turning on the stove and pouring some oil into a pan.

‘Where did you get it?!’ She shrugged.

‘I met him on my walk earlier, he’s a sweetheart. I just gave him a bath so he doesn’t stink anymore and now he’s gonna get a big, juicy steak! Isn’t he?! Yes he is! Cause he’s such a good boy!’ There was a part of Klaus that wanted to roll his eyes at being spoken to like a pet but it was a small part compared to the wolf part that quite likes her caring for him and being called a ‘Good Boy’ which was new for him…and the part of his wolf that also really wants that steak.

She held it down on all sides in the pan to color before allowing it to cook, turning to the fridge and grabbing milk, making herself a bowl of cereal, flipping the steak in between. ‘Kid, you can’t keep him, you know that. Right?’

She looked up at Steve with a glare. ‘Of course I can! He’s my friend, and it’s not like I can’t afford to buy him food. Look, it’s not your business Steve, okay? Just stay out of it.’ Y/n told him as she cleaned up and Steve glared half heartedly prompting Klaus to growl, both of them looking at him in shock. ‘No, none of that. It’s okay. The mean man isn’t going to take you away, I promise.’ Y/n knelt down and scratched behind his ears, prompting the groan that rose in his throat almost like a purring noise-one that Klaus would deny making until the day he dies.

With that Steve was walking out of the room and Y/n was cutting up the steak before turning and walking back up to her room with everything on a tray.

‘Here bud.’ She gestured beside the bed and he moved beside her, laying down and allowing her to put the bowl of steak in front of him as well as one full of bottled water. ‘Don’t worry about Steve, he just works for my Dad. They’ve been best friends since they were kids. My Dad will never say anything about you to me, he’ll make my Mom do it, he stopped talking to me a long time ago.’ She explained, turning on her TV and eating her cereal. He looked up at her and tilted his head making her smile. ‘Aww, you’re so cute! It’s like you’re actually listening to me…my Dad is the head of the Mafia here in New York, has been for years. We used to be close…really close…I was Daddy’s little girl, ya know?’ Klaus could see and hear the pain in her when she spoke about him. Her father had clearly really hurt her and he didn’t like that one little bit. ‘He just stopped loving me one day. Stopped taking me to all his events, stopped having our Daddy/Daughter Days…he just stopped talking to me all together…how is that fair?! I didn’t do anything but grow up! He had to know that was gonna happen, right?! What kind of fucking moron doesn’t? But he gets mad at me for what? Being a teenager? I didn’t stop talking to him, or start treating him badly-isn’t that my job? I’m supposed to be the mean one now! And yet my grown father is treating me like shit!?’

Klaus could see how angry she was getting and wanted to comfort his mate as the tears began falling. Clearly she had been keeping these feelings inside for a long time, probably having no one to talk to. If what she said about her father is true then anyone in this house would probably run and tell on her for anything she said about him, except maybe her mother.

He jumped up onto the bed and licked over her face, prompting her to giggle as he did, snuggling up against her and making her wrap her arms around him. ‘Thanks Bud…I have to call you something…what should your name be?’ She wondered and Klaus prayed silently for his mate not to name his wolf something stupid. ‘We could go with something classic for a black dog like…Shadow or Sirius?’ He grumbled, not wanting to be named after the dog from Harry Potter. ‘Too boring, something exotic then like…Obsidian or Pandora! No, wait, that’s a girls name…you are a boy, right?’ She asked, leaning over as if to check and he “yipped” snapping his teeth together. ‘Okay, you’re a boy. I’m teasing, I bathed you, remember?’ Yes, he remembers, he had to be very conscious of not having any issues there while she was rubbing her soft hands over every inch of his body. ‘I got it! We’ll call you Fenrir, after the wolf God, Lokis son. He’s a huge wolf, strong and brave. Misunderstood and abused…and really loyal. Like my good boy right here.’

Klaus had to admit, of all the stupid names she could have picked, he liked that one. It fit, that would have to be his wolfs name from now on and according to the howl in his head he didn’t mind.

Klaus snuggled up with Y/n as it got darker outside and she began to drift off, allowing her to hold onto him as she fell asleep. He stayed there for a while as she slept, watching the TV before the door opened and a women stepped in.

‘Y/n, you aren’t going to believe this. Steve is insisting you have a wolf in your-‘ she cut herself off as she made eye contact with Klaus and he lifted his head to look at her before grumbling and resting his head down across Y/n’s back. ‘This won’t end well…’

Hybrids Mafia Princess Moodboard

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[bookskeepers]

third time's the charm ♡ chapter two

content warnings: tsukishima's p.o.v. of his sexual history since starting college! so yes. NSFW-ish (not explicit smut). minors do not interact. ahahah i hope i got him right

word count: 1,412

a/n: i added to chapter one so please make sure you read that one before this one ! also this one is on the shorter side because like ........ i am not that creative

also! sorry for the weird tenses... i like writing in present tense but i genuinely had no clue how to go from past to present so here we are <3 sorry. english is not my first language

taglist: none yet ! pls send an ask if you want to be added <3

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

Tsukishima Kei isn't big on commitment. Or, at least, he thought he wasn't until he met you.

Before he started college, he hadn't really gone out of his way to meet girls. Sure, there was the usual confession from underclassmen, upperclassmen, and people his age on a regular basis, but it's not like he was attracted to any of them. They all felt pretty basic: average height, average features, average everything. None of them stood out to him. Yamaguchi often teased him for his "endless line of suitors," and the olive-haired boy also taught him how to let those girls down gently. Tsukishima tried his best to, but more often than not the confessions ended in tears.

Once he started university, he decided to branch out more. He ended up going to the same school as Kuroo Tetsurou and Bokuto Koutarou, and they wiggled their way back into his life. Kuroo even helped him set up his Tinder account, and Tsukishima hadn't bothered to change it since.

It's not like it wasn't easy for him to meet girls, though; his major was mostly women and he often felt some unnerving stares in his classes. He thought studying anthropology would be more equal in terms of a gender divide, but he was wrong. Besides, he didn't like the idea of trying to hook up with people he'd see on a daily basis. The appeal of Tinder was that there were no strings attached and, if he were to enjoy the company of a computer science major or a biology major, the chances of him crossing paths with them again was nonexistent.

His first time ended up being pretty straightforward -- the girl had been relatively understanding of his lack of experience, and Tsukishima had discovered that he really enjoyed kissing people, especially in missionary. His slew of experiences led him to find out that he also enjoyed the quiet noises people made more than the loud ones, the looks on their faces when they came undone, and the way they'd sink their nails into his back when it felt too good for them.

He enjoyed the way their thighs would tighten around his head when he went down on them, and he really liked the looks in their eyes when he'd lick his fingers clean after bringing them to orgasm with two digits.

He soon developed a bit of a reputation amongst those who knew him as a womanizer (although he would always disagree and say something about how that term felt demeaning towards both him and the ladies). He didn't talk about his promiscuity often, nor did he appreciate his friends' teasing about how all the women he took to bed looked the same. Tall, lithe, and light-colored hair. Bokuto went as far as to suggest that Tsukishima was into girls that could pass off as his sister, but he never said anything like that again since Tsukishima had smacked him for that comment.

It also quickly became apparent that Tsukishima wasn't a fan of women who tied their self-worth to the amount of sex they had. The first and only time he encountered someone like that, their need to please him had gone far beyond the usual desire to please one's partner and it was unsettling. That was also when he decided to exchange more than three messages with his matches on Tinder. He also no longer hesitated to unmatch with someone if they gave the wrong vibes.

There were a few times where it felt like the opposite party was getting attached. Requests to meet up for reasons other than sex, invites to parties, things like that. It's not that the idea of a relationship didn't appeal to Tsukishima, it was that the thought of being in a relationship with those who were trying to pursue one with him made his gut feel heavy and sent an anxious shiver up his spine. Simply put, there was a stark difference between "women he'd hook up with" and "women he would consider dating." After all, the hookups rarely handled his generally cold attitude well -- but sex, in his mind, was not a place for conversation. These feelings led him to think that maybe, just maybe, commitment wasn't his thing. It wasn't like he had met anyone he'd consider dating thus far anyways.

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If you ask him, he would say that the day he matched with you on Tinder wasn't that eventful.

It started rather simply. In the morning, he went for his usual jog before hitting the rec center on campus. That day was his pull day, so he had done lateral pull-downs, pull-ups, and he had used the rowing machine with the resistance set to high. Tsukishima likes the gym -- no one there was going to go out of their way to talk to him (unless they were asking to work in with him) and no one there was going to judge him.

He had gone to his classes like usual -- he decided to treat himself that semester by taking an elective that had nothing to do with the actual path he was setting up for himself. He was sitting in that class, Dragons Around the World, when he decided to pull up Tinder and start swiping. It was an entertaining class for the most part, but that day was dedicated to going over the most recent exam. Tsukishima had scored a perfect 100 on it, so he felt that there was no need for him to pay attention.

As usual, his feed was dominated by people that others would think of as super models. High cheekbones, pale-colored eyes, long lashes. He swiped mindlessly -- mostly to the right -- before your profile appeared on his screen. Something about you felt different -- maybe it was the gleam of mischief in your eyes or the way your profile didn't have any photos of you scantily clad in a bikini or less. Maybe it was the way your bio was "would ask for the kid's menu at a restaurant solely for the word search," or the way your job was listed as "generally confused at school." Despite the simplicity of your profile, it felt full of personality, a huge contrast to most of those on Tinder. He found himself swiping right against his better judgment.

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Around 1:00am that night, he's sat at his desk with his headphones on his ears when his phone lets out a quiet ding. He looks up from his textbook, a faint feeling of surprise that he even heard the ding through his music. He grabs it and taps on the screen, wincing at the bright light of the background.

TINDER: You got a new match!

As per usual, he taps on the notification and unlocks his phone. He always checks who his new matches are -- that's how he decides whether or not to send them a message.

He stares at the empty chat, your face sat in the middle of the screen. The photo's of you smiling at someone off camera, hair ruffling in an unseen breeze, a gleam of mischief in your eyes. He types out a quick "Yo." before placing his phone back on the desk and returning to the task at hand: studying for his exam in two days.

His focus doesn't last long, as his phone screen lights up this time to indicate that someone -- you, maybe? -- replied to him. He lets out a rather annoyed sigh before taking his phone once more, deciding to ditch studying at this hour and instead opting to flop in bed.

You: very charming first message

He lets out an amused snort by your response to his "Yo." and he rolls his eyes.

Tsukishima: It got you to reply, didn't it?

His eyes track the screen for a few minutes, hoping your reply would come as fast as it did before.

After mindlessly scrolling through Instagram Reels for thirty minutes -- because TikTok's subpar -- he realizes you must've fallen asleep. After all, he'd hate if you didn't reply in the end, since you were different from the usual Tinder interaction.

He goes to sleep that night with the thought of you on his mind. It was no easy feat to get him to laugh in general, much less so in the first interaction. Unbeknownst to you, you managed to do just that, which made you his latest fixation.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin Ice (Hockey Player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Reader)

A/N: Hehehe. Hiii :) if you haven’t noticed, I gave the chapter titles, and if you know what I’m doing with the titles then I’ll love you forever Lmaoo. Also I’m accidentally making the chapters shorter then I would like but idk how make them longer lmao. As usu, not completely proofread so excuse any typos or grammatical errors. Also I tried to throw in a small parallel cuz I LOOOVE parallels in writing. Okay enjoy:).

(Y/N)- Your name, (f/c)- favorite color.

Swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of sex/sexual stuff (No smut or NSFW content.)

Word count: 1.2K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 3: That sticks around like summat in your teeth?

—

“Sooooo… wanna tell me why Miguel ‘figure skating isn’t a real sport’ O’Hara was talking you up before practice?”

Oh God. You knew this would happen.

“Okay, first of all he wasn’t talking me up-“ You rolled your eyes as you and Logan walk to your uni’s on-campus Starbucks after practice together, your (f/c) gym bag hastily thrown over your shoulder, so the bag was resting fully on your back.

“Me when I lie-“

“And second all,” you send him a playful look for interrupting you mid-sentence as you finally reach your destination, pulling the handle to the glass door, entering the busy coffee shop. “I’d rather not think about it.” Because it was all your were thinking about now.

Logan just took his hands out from his hoodie pockets and raised them up in defense. “Okay, okay… didn’t think me asking about the person my partner despises so much, would be annoying .” He joked with a small smirk, you just rolled your eyes and let out a small annoyed groan as you and Logan both grabbed your mobile orders from the counter, before making your way to a small, secluded table in the back of the cafe.

You did a quick look over at your surroundings, before leaning in slightly and began to speak in a low tone. “Okay… am I going insane, or had Miguel been acting…different towards me since last week?” You asked, Logan leaning in a bit, taking a sip of his iced coffee, before replying.

“oh no yeah, something is up with him.”

You started to nervously nibble at your bottom lip,“You’re supposed to tell me I’m going crazy.” You say with a sigh, rubbing your temples in hopes of preventing an oncoming headache for all the overthinking you were about to do, Logan just shrugged.

“As much as I’d loove to feed into your delusions, I’d rather much more make fun of you for this.” He grinned as he crossed his arms on the top of the wooden table. You quickly shot him a glare and lightly hit his shoulder, mumbling a “not funny”. Before sipping on your drink a bit. Your reaction only made his grin widen, “This is gonna be fun to watch. Do you think he’s into you? I think he is. Oh my god, is this gonna be like one of those romance novels that Kate-“ Kate is your dorm mate, “is always going on about?” You groaned as your shoved your face into hands to help hid the blush that was creeping on to your cheeks.

“Hell. No. He’s an asshole, and I hate him. I’d rather slit my throat with my own skate blades before even giving him a chance. Besides , I don’t like hockey players, especially the ones here.” You ranted after you felt your face cool down enough to finally lift your head out of your hands to look at Logan again, you knew if he saw how red your face felt, he’d never let you hear the end of it. “Not to mention, I’ve heard about all the rumors about him on campus. He’s a total manwhore.” You finished with a scowl, your hands playing with your cup. You’ve honestly lost interest in your drink, but you paid 7 dollars for it, and you’re a broke college student, so you forced yourself to take another sip.

“You say that last part like you’re considering acting on something.” You hate how he said that so causally, like you two (plus a few of your other friends) weren’t always complaining about him and his little hockey team.

“That’s- that’s not what I meant by that and you know it.” You huffed, your eyebrows furrowed together and you puff your cheeks out a bit as your lips draw together into a thin line. “Even if he wasn’t a massive dick, he isn’t my type.” Logan let out a small snort, him and his fucking snorts.

“When you say massive dick, are you sure you meant he’s a massive dick? Or did you mean he has a mass” you quickly covered his mouth with your hand before he could continue.

“Trust me Logan, he’s the last person on campus I’d want.”

—

“So you just, all of a sudden, decide to wake up one morning and be nice to her? Are you sure you don’t have a crush on her?” Peter Parker, The Spiders’ winger and Miguel’s dorm mate/best friend (wether he’d admit or not) teased the taller man with a sly smile. Miguel let out a frustrated huff as he went to try and hit Peter on the shoulder as a warning to shut up, but the shorter man quickly dodged it with a laugh.

“God. You heard me compliment her one time, and now you’re gonna misinterpret every conversation with her?” Miguel grumbled as he sat on his bed in his dorm room, Peter sitting down across from him on the floor, his back resting against his own bed as he took a handful of fries from the McDonald’s bag next to him before shoving it in his mouth.

“Mmm, yeah.” Peter replied with a full mouth, Miguel had to look away to stop himself from cringing. “So.” He swallowed his food, taking a sip of his soda before continuing, “what’s the deal? You’re actually trying to be a nicer person, or do you just wanna get in her pants?” Peter deadpanned.

“I’m not-Jesus, Peter. Do you have to say it like that?” Miguel huffed, rubbing his face a bit with his hands in an attempt to help his current feeling of embarrassment from how blunt Peter was being. “I just…didn’t realize how good she is at skating before is all…” He added in a slightly softer tone, his large calloused hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, his shoulders coming up with a slight shrug.

“Oh yeah, you’re trying to get into her pants.” Peter grinned.

“Peter.”

“Miguel.”

“Believe it or not, but I don’t only think with my dick.” Miguel deadpanned, his head tilting to the side slightly as he raises a brow.

“Ehhh, I don’t know… the amount of times you’ve kick me out of our room says otherwise.” Peter’s lips twitched up into a sly smirk, this time Peter didn’t dodge Miguel’s hand. “Ouch! Why are you getting mad at me? You’re the one who can’t keep it his pants…” He whined as he rubs his shoulder.

“I haven’t had a girl in here for weeks Parker, you know that.” Miguel glared down at Peter, before shoving his hand into the McDonald’s hand next to his friend on the floor. Earning a small “hey!” In protest from the other man, and began to nibble on the fries.

“Surprisingly…” Peter grumbled. “You going through a dry spell or something?”

“No. Just, trying to focus on school and hockey.” Miguel said as he leaned against his bed, resting his weight on his forearms. Peter scoffed in response.

“Miguel, you’re bullshitting and you know it. If you stopped messing around with half the campus for little miss ice princess-“ Miguel felt a slight burning sensation rip threw his chest when Peter referenced you by ice princess, it bothered him for some reason even though he called you that name all the time, “then who cares? But don’t try and deny it.”

“Trust me Peter, she’s the last person on campus I’d want.”

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert

[homemadeaxolotl]

Obey Me x TWST Chapter 2

[Back In The Devildom]

"What do you mean they're gone?! What did you do, Solomon?!"

Lucifer had lost his shit and his brothers were just as pissed, all of them in agreement for once, which was concerning. Diavolo was standing behind everyone, simply listening as Barbatos stood by his side, remaining calm despite the icy glare leveled at the sorcerer.

Before it could get too loud, Diavolo stepped forward, looking serious as everyone stepped back. Diavolo then walked over to Solomon and stood in front of him as the prince spoke in a scarily quiet voice. "Where's (Y/N), Solomon?"

Solomon sighed and shrugged as he looked at Diavolo. "If I knew where my apprentice was, I would have said so already." "What happened?" Diavolo's voice was sharp as he kept staring at Solomon, showing that he was just as irritated as the rest of the demons were.

"Well, I wanted to test a spell that should have just made them extremely small, but I must have read something wrong. I doubt it, though." Solomon tried sounding confident, but it was obvious that even he was getting nervous.

"Where did you find this spell?" Satan sounded eerily calm as he stared coldly at Solomon. Solomon cleared his throat and smiled at Satan as he handed the avatr of wrath an ancient spellbook with a neon pink sticky note sticking out of the top. Satan then carefully flipped to the page with everyone's eyes on him. Once Satan read what was on the page, he growled and shoved the book into Asmodeus' hands before slamming Solomon against the wall. "You moron! That spell doesn't make someone smaller!"

Lucifer forced Satan back, much to his irritation, as Asmodeus gasped dramatically and stared at Solomon in horror. "You sent our precious (Y/N) to another world?!"

The room fell into total silence as all the demons in the room stared at Solomon. It was so quiet that a pin could be heard, but before anyone could freak out (more than Satan and Asmo did, anyway), Diavolo spoke calmly and coldly, keeping a level head. "Solomon, you will be staying out of this. we can find a way to bring (Y/N) back."

Solomon actually looked alarmed when he heard Diavolo's words as he tried defending himself, but Diavolo wasn't having any of it. Diavolo held a hand up to silence Solomon as he spoke coldly. "You are not allowed to help us. We cannot risk messing up and you cannot be trusted currently."

With that, Lucifer and his brothers headed back to the House of Lamentation and Diavolo and Barbatos went deeper into the castle, leaving Solomon all alone in the main hall, with his only option being to go back to Purgatory Hall, regretting sending his apprentice away on accident as he tried to figure out how he was going to break the news to Simeon, Luke, and Raphael.

No one was going to be happy with Solomon and he, oddly enough, wasn't happy to be on everyone's shit list.

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Alright, this is gonna be the last chapter before finals week. It was a shorter chapter, but I'll try to make the chapters after this a little longer. I'll post the 3rd chapter either the week after finals or the week after that.

It might be a bit early to say this, but thank you for all the support I've gotten for this fic so far. It's only in its early stages, but everyone has been so kind to me and so eager for more, which makes me excited to write more, so thank you!

-----------

Taglist: @axvfr @energy-addict

[sunflowersandsapphires]

All This World Could Give Me

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 4

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: swearing, possessive/slightly pervy Matt (he’s 18 y’all, cut him some slack), implied sexual activity, non-graphic descriptions of masturbation, religious conversations and catholic imagery

I’m ignoring canon a bit here and pretending Matt and Lantom were already close. Sue me.

a/n: I know it's been too long since I posted for this WIP and this is the last chapter I have finished writing so I'm posting it an hour early. But I'm going to try really hard to update this one more consistently because I know it's a fan favorite. As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated! They give me fuel to write.

w/c: 3.7k (Next chapter is much longer, I promise)

Matt had known you for 11 weeks. Less than 80 days in his life and his heart had practically carved you an altar, ready to worship a new God. His devotion to you was ardent—and it terrified him. 

You deserved more than he could provide, that much was still true, but he couldn’t help the searing pain in his chest when you talked about your new boyfriend. Everett. Just mentioning his name sparked twin blooms of heat in your cheeks and waves of arousal to cloud around you. It was enough to make Matt nauseous. 

A few weeks ago, your new beau had been no more than an unknown peer to the three of you, but it had taken him all of three days to coil around you like a serpent–prying you from Matt’s undying grasp. The two of you had met at Oscar’s homecoming house party and had apparently “totally hit it off”. Two days after that, you’d excitedly reconnected at a Civil Procedure study session that he’d spearheaded with your own TA. After an hour of flirty glances and pointed compliments bouncing between the pair of you, he’d offered to take you out for a late dinner. Stupidly, Matt had assumed you’d invite him and Foggy along, like you had when your last suitor had asked you out, but you’d bid a hasty goodbye to your friends before letting Everett escort you to his favorite diner. 

In the 2 weeks since then, your friends had barely seen you. Dates with Everett had become so frequent that you’d been skipping or rescheduling your semi-weekly study sessions and miscellaneous hangouts were shorter than ever. Characteristically, Foggy had been much more understanding of the shift in your behavior. 

“Cut her some slack, Murdock. This is her first adult relationship. She’s excited!” The blond reasoned, nudging Matt’s slumped shoulder with a knowing smirk. 

“I don’t know, Fog. Something’s…off about him.” 

Snorting, Foggy rolled his eyes. “The only thing ‘off’ about it is that our little jitterbug is dating him instead of you.” His accusation was only a murmur, but the sentiment still hit Matt like a truck. 

Your involvement with someone should’ve been a blessing. An opportunity for him to get over his unrequited feelings and move on with his life without jeopardizing one of the two friendships he’d ever had. Still, he couldn’t shake the unease he felt around the guy. They’d only interacted once, when you’d introduced them during the study session, but one short conversation was all Matt’s conscience needed to condemn the man. 

Though he was well aware that you preferred to show your love through kind words and soft touches, the sound of your pulse skipping when you'd entangled your hand with Everett’s continued to haunt him. Your intentions were as sweet as ever, but he couldn’t help but worry about your counterpart. His senses were bombarded with pheromones whenever he was around you, and the majority of them were not yours. It was like the guy knew exactly how to get under Matt’s skin and had taken to coating you in his cologne before allowing you out of his sight.

If it was possible, his mind was more occupied with thoughts of you than ever. Being in the same room with you was torturous, every molecule in his body buzzing with indignation at the thought that someone else had claimed you. Every mention of your relationship had him biting his tongue until it bled. 

Amazingly, he’d been able to restrain his frustration at the beginning of your relationship, preventing himself from snapping at you. However, given that he was only human, his willpower could only withstand so much. The last straw was the fresh bruising on your neck that had appeared the morning after a “study date” with Everett. It couldn’t have taken much effort to disguise, but Matt could still feel the heat pooling in three mouth-shaped marks along your satiny skin. 

As you sat beside him at the bookstore counter, you absentmindedly ran a finger over the neckline of your shirt, your heart fluttering as a nail scraped over the highest of the imprints. If Matt hadn’t been so in tune with you and your body, he wouldn’t have thought twice about the tiny sigh that escaped your lips–but he knew you like the back of his own hand, and the sound nearly broke him. 

Noticing the way he stiffened, your brow furrowed. “You ok?” You asked kindly, shifting nearer to him. 

Normally, he savored the warmth of your proximity, but today the combination of your closeness and the metallic taste of blood emanating from your various hickeys ignited a fury within him.  

“Fine.” He muttered, turning the page of his book.

“Ok, let me rephrase. Did you want to talk about whatever is obviously bothering you?” You reached out to run a hand along his arm, wafting a cloud of spicy cologne towards him. 

Jerking away from your touch, and nearly careening out of his seat in the process, Matt shook his head. “No. I’m good, thanks.”

Your breathing stuttered, but you shook it off quickly. “Alright, let me know if you change your mind.” Matt desperately tried to ignore the twist in his gut at the hurt that flooded your tone, to no avail.

The two of you stewed in the silence, pretending to study until the bell chimed—signaling a new presence. Matt had been so tangled up in his own guilt and regret that he hadn't noticed the familiar man approaching the store. Surely, God was laughing at his misfortune about now—his bad luck had to be cosmic.

“Evs!” You squealed, rushing out from behind the counter to hug him. After exchanging a nauseatingly lengthy kiss, you wrapped an arm around his waist and gestured to the other boy, still sitting by the register. “You remember Matt, right?” 

“Uh yah. How's it goin', man?” Everett gave a rigid nod in Matt's direction, not diverting an ounce of his attention from where it rested on you. 

Plastering on his phoniest smile, Matt lifted his hand in a wave. “Not too bad. You?“

”Oh you know, same old.“ The older student brushed off Matt's polite question in favor of pulling you more tightly against him. With a giggle, you let him kiss you again, standing on your tiptoes to reach him. 

”What are you doing here?“ You chuckled, tilting your head to the side as his lips traveled over the bruises he'd left the night before. Matt's stomach rolled at the resulting haze of arousal around you.

”Came to see you. Missed you so much, baby.“ Everett murmured between pecks. 

“I missed you too. But I'm working for another two hours.” You pushed his chest, breaking the seal of his lips along your skin. 

“That's ok, I'm a very patient man.” Your paramour purred, stepping away to let you take your seat again. 

Giggling, you leaned forward on the counter. Everett, as classy as ever, didn't hide the way his eyes drifted straight to your cleavage. Didn't he know that you were more than an object for his use and pleasure?

“Want to sit with us? We're reading for Torts. I can get you a chair...“ You trailed off, craning your neck to find a spare stool for him. 

Clearing his throat, Matt stood. ”He can have mine. I forgot, I have plans tonight.“ 

You pursed your lips, studying your friend as he packed up his things. Unperturbed, Everett quickly slid in beside you. ”Thanks, bro.”

“No problem, bro.” Matt mimicked, shouldering his bag and tipping his head towards you. “See you tomorrow.”

“Um, ok. Have a good night, Matty.” You offered, relaxing slightly when he smiled back at you.

“You too, bug.” As he escaped the harrowing atmosphere, he heard Everett's seemingly innocent question.

“Bug?” The pure envy dripping from the word was enough to break Matt's face into a proud smirk. 

Seemingly unaware of the budding rivalry, you laughed. 'It's a long story.“ 

Swiping his cane along the ground forcefully, Matt gulped in the chilly autumn air in an attempt to soothe his pounding heart. The scent of your and Everett’s combined arousal lingered on his coat, in his nose, across his tongue. Every inhale fueled his rage, and he needed to let it out. 

Thankfully, there was a place that could offer him solace despite the late hour. 

Plastic tapping along asphalt, he masterfully wove through the crowds and down the streets until reaching the musty building he'd been searching for. The door was ajar, propped open with a mop bucket. Steel hinges creaked as he pried open the door, stepping around the cleaning supplies and into the familiar space. 

Taking careful steps across the damp concrete, he let his eyes fall closed as the sounds of swinging chains and the ever-present scent of sweat brought him back to his childhood. Blurry images of men with comically red gloves and worn vinyl punching bags flashed through his mind, interspersed with a fading picture of his late father. Swallowing roughly, he continued his march into the empty space, running a hand over the eroded ropes in the center of the room. 

”Sorry kid, we're closed,“ A gruff voice broke through the silence. 

Shuffling away from the boxing ring, Matt raised a hand in apology. “Sorry, uh, it's been a while since I—“

“You're Battlin' Jack's boy, ain't ya?” The older man cut him off, stepping towards Matt and giving him a once over. 

Matt's jaw trembled with emotion, but he nodded slowly. “Uh, yes sir, I am.” 

“Been a long time since I've seen ya 'round, kid. Life been good to ya?“ The janitor asked, swiping the mop head across the floor and diverting his gaze from Matt. 

”It's been alright. The gym doing ok?“ Shifting from foot to foot, Matt suddenly felt exposed. It had been foolish to assume this place would welcome him back in the middle of the night.

”Not too bad, had to cut our hours though. Ya know how it is.“ 

Matt nodded politely. ”I understand. I'm sorry to intrude,“ Grasping his cane, he started for the door but the older man stopped him.

”Wait, wait. I ain't gonna kick ya out, kid. You're practically family, come here whenever ya'd like.“ 

”Are you sure? I don't want to impose.“ 

”Course I'm sure. I've gotta head home—just lock up for me, will ya?” 

Heavy steps shuffled closer to Matt, an outstretched hand offering a worn key. Accepting the jagged brass object, a bloom of warmth filled Matt's chest. “Oh I...I mean—”

The man laughed heartily. ”It ain't gonna bite ya. Just don't leave the lights on too long and we're golden.“ 

”I'm sure that won't be a problem.“ Matt snorted.

Chuckling deeply, the other man clapped him on the shoulder. ”Fair enough. Use the key whenever you'd like, kid. Don't be a stranger.“ 

”Thank you, um...“

”Ron, Ron Clark. Nice to see ya again.“ 

”Thank you, Ron. Have a good night.“

”You too.“ Another squeeze of Matt's shoulder and the other man headed out. 

Standing still for a moment, Matt turned the key over in his palm, savoring the swell of pride and gratitude before slipping the chunk of metal into his pocket and stripping out of his coat. 

It hadn't been too long since he'd trained, but he was definitely rusty. His muscles practically shrieked beneath his skin as he ran through some exercises Stick used to drill him with, stationed at a spare punching bag. The punches he threw were wobbly and his stance was crooked, but the repetitive motion still began to drain the tension from his shoulders. 

Adjusting his position, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he fell back into a familiar rhythm. The solid weight of the sand against his knuckles chipped away at the darkness that had been swirling around him for days. Each hit was deliberate and, telling himself it was just to work on his accuracy, he started envisioning Everett's face being pummeled by his fists. Though he'd never seen it, Matt was more than happy bombarding the vague idea of your boyfriend with precise hits. 

Everett. Evs. The boy who swept you off your feet before Matt could even work up the nerve to tell you how he felt. A man who simultaneously paid Matt no mind and was far too invested in the blind man's connection to you. Were his feelings for you so obvious that your boyfriend felt the need to drive a wedge between the pair of you? 

You never seemed to mind Matt's flirting and general touchiness, though he wasn't sure if you were aware that you drew that side of him out more often than anyone else. Everett seemed to know, given the way he had so easily marked your delicate skin. 

Growling, Matt drove his hands into the swinging cylinder with more force. Was Everett the only guy allowed to hangout with you? To hug you? To rest your head against his shoulder? He could mark you up all he wanted, it wouldn't stop Matt from holding your hand or kissing your cheek or thinking about kissing every goddamn inch of you as your heart pounded. 

Anger churned in his gut at the thought of the cocky 3rd year claiming every inch of you, drawing sounds out of you that Matt could only imagine. 

His cock twitched as he fantasized. What would it be like to claim you as his, have you wrapped around him—underneath him. Would you sound like any of the other girls he'd been with? There was no doubt you'd sound sweeter. Mewling at his touches, screaming his name when he inevitably made you climax. 

Panting breathlessly as phantom cries of pleasure ricocheted off the perimeter of his skull, Matt's logic and consideration flew out the window as he ripped off his tight jeans—all thoughts centered on your gorgeous figure and how you already responded to him. 

Your past relationships had been so underwhelming that a few hickeys got you riled up? Matt could blow that out of the water. He doubted Everett was a very giving partner, he'd have to make that up to you. Would you want him to please you? To taste you? Matt was sure you tasted divine.

His back arched off of the cool concrete as he came, hand unwittingly wrapped around his cock. As his arousal faded, guilt came crashing in. He couldn't help if thoughts of you slipped in when he touched himself in the comforts of his room but coming in public at the idea of tasting you? He needed help. 

Blushing furiously, he ran to the locker rooms to clean himself up.

Shaking her head at the sound of mischievous giggling, Maggie pinched out the last of the candles and began walking toward the double doors. “You know, this is your last chance to leave the chapel before the ghosts arrive.” She spoke calmly, not turning her head toward the two boys crouched behind a pew to her left.

A small, hesitant voice piped up. ”Ghosts?“ The other boy shushed the first, resulting in a small scuffle. 

Stifling a smile, she nodded gravely, pausing by an empty pew within eyesight of the troublemakers. “That's right. Darn building is full of them. Nasty little spirits who like to haunt little boys.”

“They what!!?” One of the boys asked, horrified. 

“Yep. They like to chase them around, pull out their hair, and force them to eat vegetables.”

Shrieking, the young boys darted out from behind the bench and ran quickly out the door towards the dormitory. 

Preening at her accomplishment, she was about to lock up when a new voice startled her. 

“Still using the ghost method, huh?”

Whirling around, she brought a hand up to rest on her heart when she recognized the young man before her. Huffing out an irritated breath, she greeted him. “Matthew.”

Nervously, he returned the curt nod she gave him. “Sister.”

“It's nice to see you, though I will be the first to tell you we do not have space to board grown men.”

Chuckling, Matt adjusted his grip on his cane. “Your faith in me is endless, Sister. I still have a place to live, I just came for confession.”

Crossing her arms, Maggie raised a brow. “It's a bit late for confession, Matthew. Come back tomorrow.”

”I know it's late, I just—“

“Matthew,” Father Lantom appeared in the entrance to the chapel, expression and tone much more appreciative of Matt's presence than Maggie seemed. “It's nice to see you, son. How is it out there?”

Smiling proudly, Matt leaned into the hand Lantom placed on his shoulder. “It's wonderful, Father. I'm sorry to have disturbed you, I'll come back tomorrow like Sister Maggie suggested.” The Father's grasp on his arm tightened marginally. 

”Nonsense. You are always welcome here. Did you want to sit in the Confessional, or can I offer you a cup of tea first?“ 

Jaw tightening as his ears rang with Maggie's incredulous scoff, he shook his head. “No, I shouldn't have come, I—“

“Maggie, would you mind lighting a few candles? Matthew, have a seat. I'll be back with something for you to drink. Is chamomile ok?”

Nodding apprehensively, Matt shuffled over to a bench and sat down, turning the foam handle of his cane in his palms as Lantom headed off. 

His pulse pounded in the tense silence as Maggie lit three of the lanterns closest to him. 

“I'm sorry, Sister, I wasn't thinking—” 

“You weren't. Though it seems the Father is still happy to indulge your whims, even if you aren't our responsibility any more.”

Ducking his head in embarrassment, Matt chewed the inside of his cheek, the Sister's scolding stoking his towering flames of guilt. “I can still leave.”

“I think the time for that has passed, Matthew.” Sitting at the opposite end of the pew, she sighed. “Is school everything you hoped for?”

The question was an obvious olive branch, and Matt accepted it gratefully. “It's a very different environment. Full of sin, you'd hate it.”

Maggie chuckled, weaving her fingers together and studying the boy. He looked well enough, apprehensive and ashamed, sure, but fed and rested. He'd clearly been taking decent care of himself, which is more than she could've asked for. 

Firm steps echoed in the cavernous building as Lantom returned, holding a carefully balanced tray of three ceramic cups. “Maggie, I assume you'll be joining us?” He gave her a pointed look and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

“I'd love to.” She smiled, accepting one of the steaming cups. 

Matt smirked at her exaggerated apathy, accepting his own drink. “Thank you both. I'm sorry for my timing.” 

“Our doors are always open for you, Matthew. What did you feel the need to confess?”

Blushing at the reminder of his unholy actions, he sighed. “I've been...preoccupied as of late, with...impure thoughts. And I'm not quite sure how to reconcile that.” 

Listening to Maggie's heart stutter, it seemed she was equally uncomfortable with her presence in this conversation, yet she made no attempt to leave.

Father Lantom, on the other hand, nodded thoughtfully. “Sinful thoughts are different from sinful actions Matthew. Our minds cannot be controlled to the same degree.”

“I know that, it's just...” Scrubbing a hand over his face, Matt grit his teeth in frustration. “These thoughts, they're mostly about one girl. And they've become more frequent since she began dating someone else.” 

“You're close with this girl?” Lantom asked, tilting his head in brief understanding. 

Matt nodded mournfully, raking fingers through his hair. “Very. She's one of two friends I have and one of the best people I've ever known. But, lately, I can't even be in the same room as her without getting angry because...because she's not mine.” 

Maggie blew out an exasperated breath. “Women are not possessions, Matthew.” 

“I know that! I just mean,I—” Spluttering, Matt failed to find the words to justify his admission. God, he was just as bad as Everett.

“Take a breath, my child.” Father Lantom instructed. “Have you told this girl how you feel?” 

Shaking his head, eyes wide, Matt's words were more forceful than intended. “No, God no!”

“Language.” Maggie scolded. 

“Forgive me, Sister. I'm just...terrified that I'll lose her. And I feel like I can no longer control myself, which means I might lose her anyways.” Blinking rapidly to dry the tears forming in his eyes, Matt snapped his jaw shut before his emotions began to crack the steadiness of his voice. 

“Quite the predicament you've landed yourself in, poor boy.” Lantom squeezed Matt's forearm reassuringly, gazing upwards in thought. “As uncertain as it can seem, His plan for us is often for our own good, Matthew. Perhaps, your friend's involvement with another is a path for you to settle for the friendship you have, at least for the time being.”

“If that was his plan, then why does it feel like she's slipping away?” His words were quiet, dense with fear and shame. 

“Love makes people do stupid things, Matthew,” Maggie remarked. “Does she know that you think she's been distant?”

“No,” Matt admitted. 

“Tell her then, you ridiculous boy.” Maggie encouraged, voice softening as she added, “If she chooses to change her behavior, well, it's up to you how to proceed.”

Lantom nodded, “As for your own thoughts, that's a bit tricky. Speaking with her and focusing on a platonic relationship might help, it might not. Remember that God searches the heart and tests the mind, this might simply be a test of your connection to this woman or of your own patience.”

“He is definitely testing my patience.” Matt muttered, drawing laughs out of both Maggie and Lantom. “Thank you both for listening, and for your assistance. I'll get out of your hair now.” 

“It was lovely to see you, Matthew. We can discuss the outcome of your conversation the next time you attend Mass.” The pastor stood, allowing Matt to exit the pew. 

“Take care, Matthew.” Maggie lifted a hand in goodbye as the two watched the younger boy retreat.

Thank you for reading my lovelies!

Taglist: @eugene-emt-roe@abbyhaslongshorts@mrs-bellingham@abucketofweird@yeonalie@jadeunstablexx@spider-murdock@0ctober-writes@danzer8705

[mint-yooxgi]

{8} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Slight focus on Jongho this chapter)

Words: 9,844

Warnings: Blood mentioned, mentions and allusion to past sexual assault, sleazy comments (not said by any of the guys), violence. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Here it is! Part one of what was only supposed to be one chapter. I almost debated splitting it into three parts given how much I still need to write for the next part, but I think two separate chapters instead of one should be fine. Anyways, I just wanted to get this out for you guys since I know you’ve all been waiting so patiently. The next part should be out tomorrow. I was going to do my best to have it all finished b tonight, but I have a really bad headache and feel like I'm ready to pass out soon. So, anyways, I still think you’ll enjoy what this chapter has in store, and I hope it makes you eager for the next chapter as well. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Mini Masterlist

The next day, you end up sleeping in later than usual. When you do wake, you feel slightly more groggy than normal, movements sluggish as you pull yourself out of bed. Heading towards the bathroom, you freshen yourself up a bit before trudging out of your room and down the hall.

Blinking a few times, you bring a hand up to rub at your eyes, a yawn escaping your lips. Though, as soon as you reach the main foyer and your gaze refocusses, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“What the fuck!” Your voice ringing out, loud and clear, echoes throughout the room.

In an instant, all eight men are surrounding you, worry on all of their features. You can tell some of them seemingly also had a late start to their day, toothbrushes hanging out of both Jongho’s and San’s mouths, while Wooyoung still looks like he’s in his pyjamas.

“What? What’s wrong?” Wooyoung takes a step towards you cautiously.

You blink, caught off guard momentarily by his newly skunk dyed hair. Though, from the looks of things, he’s not the only one who’s suddenly changed his hair colour overnight. 

Both San and Seonghwa sport pink strands now. Seonghwa’s is more of a pastel shade of pink, contrasting his stark black hair you had become so used to on him. San’s, on the other hand, is a bright hot pink, pushed slightly away from his forehead for the moment with a headband. Even Hongjoong sports an almost electric blue, his locks shorter than they were when you saw him last night.

One thing is for sure, though. They all look good.

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, shaking your head to clear your thoughts in the next second. Then, you’re motion to the ground before your feet. “Why are there drops of blood everywhere? Are you guys okay?”

This time, it’s their turn to blink at you. Their mild jealous anger that still lingers from last night almost dissipating completely as they hear the concern clear in your voice. Truly, you have no idea what this means to them - for you to worry about them like this. Warmth floods their chests as soft smiles paint their features.

“What happened?” You continue to scan your gaze over the area, seemingly paying no mind to how fond they’re looking at you so suddenly. “Is this why you guys were so late getting back last night?” Then, as if realizing something, you practically freeze in your spot. “When did you guys get back last night?”

“The council meeting took us longer than we thought it would,” Yunho is the first to respond.

“Did something happen?” Your brow is furrowed as you look towards him, and Yunho cannot deny the way that his heart races in his chest at having your concerned filled gaze be directed entirely at him.

“You could say that.” Seonghwa sighs, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

It’s then that you shift your gaze to him, his spine straightening slightly beneath that same look on your features now being projected towards him.

“I repeat,” you glance around at all of them, “are you all okay?”

“We’re all fine,” Yeosang assures you with a soft smile painting his features.

“Never better,” Jongho pulls the toothbrush out of his mouth long enough to respond.

“Then why-“

“It’s not our blood.” Hongjoong cuts you off, and immediately you’re locking eyes with him.

“Oh, thank fuck.” The relieved sigh that escapes you is probably much louder than you intend, but at this point, you don’t care. Then, it’s as if his words finally sink in. “Wait, what?”

“We had some business to attend to after the council had finished for the evening.” Mingi informs you.

Realization crosses your features as you nod once, “I see.”

“Believe me, the other guys look worse,” Wooyoung jokes.

“I should hope so,” you snort, surprising even yourself by how unafraid you are in this moment. “Someone challenge your rule or something?”

“You have no idea,” finally, San speaks, holding his own toothbrush inches away from his mouth as he sighs.

“Okay,” your eyebrows raise, slightly amused. “Remind me not to cross you guys at any point in time.”

“My Love, you know we would never hurt you.” Hongjoong’s brow furrows slightly. Even if he knows you’re saying it partially as a joke, he cannot help but worry that you’re not taking that particular vow of theirs seriously.

“I know.” You hum, and they all look taken aback by your admission as your eyes roam over the dried droplets of blood on the floor once more. “I believe you.”

Really, you have no idea how much those words mean to them. Especially right now, as you say them in such a casual tone. Almost like a second thought.

First, you show clear worry for them. Now, you’re admitting to trusting them? Well, there is simply no greater feeling in the world. Despite what they believe to be a huge setback based on the events of last night, perhaps they’ve made more progress with you than they originally thought. Maybe they should leave you by yourself more often, especially if you act like this the very next day.

Still, they’d prefer not coming back to the same events as last night ever again.

“What time did you get back last night, anyways?” You turn back to look at them, failing to notice the way they all seem to stiffen the slightest bit at your inquiry.

San, Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Mingi all have to suppress the growls that want to build in their chests as they recall the incident they stumbled home upon last night. Though, the other four aren’t doing much better. They’re just able to hide it well.

“Sometime after one, probably,” Yeosang is quick to break the building silence between all of you.

“Ah, I see,” you nod. If you recall correctly, you passed out just shortly before then.

A tense twitch upwards of your lips. You cut it real close then, last night. Thank fuck they got home later, just like you thought they would.

“We apologize if we worried you,” Yunho adds, and they all watch your reaction carefully.

“No, no,” you wave him off, a slight heat rising to your cheeks as you think back to how you were feeling while getting ready for bed last night. You fail to see the way his own lips twitch upwards in response, brow quirking ever so slightly. “Not at all. I just wasn’t expecting you guys to be gone for so long, is all.”

“We won’t ever make you wait that long for us again.” It’s Seonghwa who says this, meeting your gaze with an intense sincerity shining within his own that you’ve not quite seen from him before. 

Besides, if they had gotten home sooner, maybe then one of them could have helped you out, in more ways than one.

“It’s fine,” you chuckle, leaning back on the desk behind you where you notice one of their hats to be sitting. “Really.”

“We don’t necessarily enjoy leaving you by yourself for long periods of time.” Hongjoong voices, and you notice the way he seems to swallow, his throat bobbing with the movement.

“Oh, believe me,” you let out an amused huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest, “I noticed. Though, I have to admit, it was nice not having to worry about you guys reading my thoughts all the time.”

Something within their eyes flash, and this time, San and Mingi cannot suppress their growls. Besides, it has been a bit more difficult to read your thoughts lately thanks to that damn void you constantly think of now. You fail to see the way the two eldest shoot a side eyed glance in Yunho’s direction.

Your eyebrows raise dramatically, “is something wrong?”

“Not at all.” Jongho replies, a tight smile tugging at his lips.

“Right,” you drawl out the word, brow quirked as you look around at all of them once more. “Anyways, since you’re all here, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Anything,” Yeosang breathes out almost immediately, taking a small step towards you somewhat eagerly.

“I would like to go to the mall.”

They all blink at you in response, slightly caught off guard by your admission.

“Why?” There’s no malice in Wooyoung’s voice, only genuine curiosity.

“As much as I enjoy spending time in this house, I could use some human interaction.” You reply. “Plus, I need to get a few things for myself while we’re out.”

“Just tell us what you need and we’ll get it for you.” San’s response is immediate, him blinking at you as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

The retort you originally had been going to say dies in your throat as you think of something much better. An idea which has your lips twitching upwards in the corner as your brow quirks at all of them.

“So, you don’t want to spend the day out with me?” The smirk that pulls onto your features is deadly, and from the way they all stiffen, you know you’ve got them right where you want them. You begin to push yourself off of the desk you’re leaning against, “I understand if you’re all busy-“

In the blink of an eye, Jongho disappears, and then reappears, looking slightly more put together. His toothbrush is no longer held in his hand, and his hair is now brushed. He takes a step towards you, “let’s go.”

“Woah, hold on a second,” you chuckle, raising your one hand in a ‘wait’ gesture. “I need to change first.”

“We’ll go as soon as you’re ready, then.” It’s Hongjoong who answers you, already sitting on one of the couches in the foyer seeing as he’s already dressed for the day.

“Great!” You smile, excitedly scurrying back down the hallway and to your room. Then, from over your shoulder, you call, “give me half an hour!”

You’re so eager to get out of the house that it really only takes you twenty minutes to change and finish getting ready for the day. There’s a small spring to your step as you traverse back down the hallway, your purse slung over your shoulder as it practically bounces off of your side with every move you make.

Stepping back into the foyer, you notice that the blood has seemingly been cleaned up since you left to get ready. The hat that was previously on the desk is missing, too.

“Alright,” you cross your arms expectantly over your chest, a smile on your face as all eight of them turn towards you, “let’s go.”

“What mall do you want to go to?” Mingi asks, already making his way over to stand beside you before any one of his brothers can.

“Uh,” you blink, “honestly, I didn’t think I would get this far…” you trail off, before your eyebrow quirks playfully. “The one I used to work at should be fine.”

A few ‘okay’s and ‘alright’s echo around the room as Mingi moves to place his hand onto the small of your back. However, before he does so, he looks to you for confirmation. A fact which makes you blink slightly in shock, the simple act warming your heart more than you expect it to.

As soon as he gets a nod from you, your lips pulling into a soft smile, his hand is on your back. In the blink of an eye, he’s transported you outside one of the lesser known employee entrances, his brothers appearing right beside you.

You take a step forward, “gosh, this brings back memories.”

“Yeah?” San quirks a brow as he opens the side door for you.

“Yeah,” you nod in thanks as you walk past, the others following close behind. “On break, my coworkers and I would always hide out here during the holiday season so we wouldn’t get bothered by angry shoppers. I can’t count the amount of times people would try and stop us in the hallways, asking us about products from other stores which we didn’t work at, only to get mad at us when we told them that.”

“That’s stupid,” Yeosang’s brow furrows into a frown.

“You’re telling me,” you roll your eyes, leading them through the back hallways until you’re reaching the doors that will actually lead you into the main section of the mall. “Honestly, working retail is hell.”

“Now, that I can believe,” Wooyoung nods, hopping forwards to open the next door that appears just as you go to reach for it.

“Now I know why you weren’t that afraid at first when your friend summoned us,” Yunho jokes as you all step into the main hallway.

“Probably,” you snort, nodding slightly as your lips quirk upwards in the corners. “Retail workers are braver than anybody I know. The shit we have to put up with is remarkable.”

“I bet,” Mingi grins, along with his brothers. Really, they’re all more than ecstatic that you’re opening up to them like this.

“Where to first?” Seonghwa steps up beside you on your left as your head scans the hallway.

In an instant, your eyes are lighting up, lips parting slightly as your jaw drops. Your one hand comes up to tap excitedly at Jongho’s arm, who stands beside you to your right.

“Look!” You motion with your head as a large smile paints your features, already grabbing his hand in yours to drag him towards the bookstore a little ways down the hall. “The new book is out!”

The others can only blink in shock as Jongho turns to shoot them a smug grin as you lead him across the way and down to the bookstore. Immediately, the others are following close behind, San and Wooyoung grumbling in their minds about wanting you to drag them around with you next. Even Mingi cannot hide the pout that pulls onto his features at the way you so animatedly talk to Jongho for the moment about this new book.

“The cover is even more beautiful that I thought it would be,” you say, picking it up to run your fingers over the detailing of the design. You open the front cover, eyes catching on what’s printed there before turning it around to show Jongho. “And it’s a special edition!”

You begin to ramble as you walk into the store beside him, the other seven following close behind like lost puppies. Each so desperately wants to be able to share in this moment with you, and they do, in their own ways, but it’s not the same. At least Jongho knows what you’re talking about as you begin discussing the events in the past book, and your predictions for this new one.

Jealous wouldn’t even begin to describe them right now, and they’ve only just gotten here.

Then, as if you’ve read their minds, you’re turning to the seven of them. “I am so sorry for the person I become when I enter a bookstore.”

“My Love, there is no reason to apologize for who you are,” Hongjoong is the first to respond, a soft smile gracing his features. 

Despite the jealous pit burning within him once more, it still warms his heart to see you so passionate about something. The way your eyes shine as you quickly glance around the store only makes him fall even harder for you in this very moment. A fact which he knows all of his brothers are revelling in, too.

You smile softly, almost bashfully, as you avert your gaze. “Anyways, I’m probably going to be, like, an hour or so in here. So, you guys don’t need to hover around me the whole time.”

They all quirk a brow, save for Jongho who still stands right beside you.

“Let me rephrase that,” you begin. “Please don’t hover. I’ll feel crowded and rushed. I’ll be with Jongho, anyways, so you don’t need to worry.”

Before any of them can respond, Jongho is grabbing your hand in his once more, that same smug smirk tugging at his lips. “You heard her.”

This time, it’s him that drags you away from the others, leading you to the second story of the store to start there before any of them can protest.

You little shit. Yunho blinks in disbelief, gaze locked on Jongho’s back as he watches the two of you head up the escalators.

What can I say? He turns to shoot a pointed look down at the seven of them who have yet to move from their spots. You snooze, you lose.

Remind me to rip his head off later. San grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Hey! Jongho whines. That’s not very nice!

Neither is stealing our love away to spend some alone time together when we’re supposed to all be spending the day with her. Yeosang retorts, casually looking over the table beside him which houses some books on music that catch his interest.

Whether we like it or not, this is something that we’ll have to get used to. Hongjoong adds, walking over to a display with a bunch of horror novels on it.

We’ll all have our moment, soon enough. Mingi is hopeful, saying this more to reassure himself than anything.

Yeah, well, I just wish it was sooner, rather than later. Seonghwa grumbles.

We all do, Wooyoung responds, heading over to the escalators with San to follow you and Jongho upstairs. Let’s just take it one step at a time.

That’s rich, coming from you. Yunho nearly snorts as he begins to browse the lower level, finding a section on art fairly quickly and smiling as he takes in all of the different books.

Hey! This time it’s Wooyoung who whines. At least I’m not the most impatient.

You’re definitely up there. Yeosang smirks, grabbing a book off of the table to flip through it briefly.

Let’s just enjoy today while we can, yeah? San voices, heading over to the cookbooks with Wooyoung in tow. 

Considering the night we had, I’m living for the fact that she actually wanted to spend some time with us today. Seonghwa is the next to head over to the escalators, eyes scanning the entirety of the store and taking it all in as he heads upstairs.

Exactly. Mingi practically sighs in bliss. San’s right. Let’s enjoy it while we can.

Have you guys noticed she seems much more chipper today? Jongho comments. Like, more open and accepting towards us?

The fact that she was clearly worried about us when she saw the blood on the floor makes me wonder, too. Yunho hums, somewhat knowingly.

You know, I hate to say it, Wooyoung begins, somewhat exasperatedly, but that’s what a good orgasm can do. Especially when you’re frustrated.

Were it not for the fact that they’re all in public, the snarls that build in their throats would have long since been vocalized.

Let’s just make sure that the next time she needs some relief, she comes to one of us, then. Seonghwa’s voice is firm, the others immediately agreeing right along with him.

How about we not put a damper on today? Hongjoong sighs, placing the horror novel that he was looking at back onto the display before picking up another one. I don’t like it anymore than all of you do, but what’s passed has passed. We’re not going to change it now. Seonghwa is right, let’s just make sure she calls for one of us if something like that were to happen again. I don’t want our sour moods from last night to affect what could be the start of a beautiful day out with our love.

A chorus of agreements come from every single one of them as they all continue to browse the store.

Still sucks, though. San grumbles. Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Mingi all mumbling their agreement soon after.

Though, what truly gets them to shut up is a mental image projected into all of their minds a moment later, curtesy of Jongho. You seem to be standing in front of the Manga section, a large smile on your face as you turn to look at him from over your shoulder. Either you or him have just said something funny, for you’re letting out the most melodic laugh that they’ve ever heard in their entire lives in the next second.

They all go quiet, hearts warming at this small intimacy shared between all of them. Hell, San, Yunho, and Seonghwa nearly all drop the books that they had been holding at the time when the image first appeared in their minds.

Thank you, Jongho. It’s Yeosang who breaks the silence between all of them first. I really needed that right now.

I think we all did. Mingi’s reply is soft, lips tugging upwards gently as he blinks a few times to clear away the sudden tears that spring to his eyes from the intimacy of this shared memory.

I knew you’d all appreciate that as much as I did. There’s a smile in Jongho’s reply. They can hear it reflected in the fondness echoing throughout their heads as they’re sure he’s still watching you with that same lovestruck expression on his face that they know is mirrored on all of their own.

Sure enough, his gaze is loving as he watches you turn to face him once more, adjusting the strap of your purse over your one shoulder.

You grin, “this is why I keep a list of volumes I still need to collect on my phone.”

In an instant, you’re pulling out said object, unlocking it and opening the notes application. Scrolling through, you start at the beginning, taking your time to look through all of the titles to see if this bookstore has any of the volumes that you’re missing. It’s been a while since you’ve added to your collection, anyways.

Taking a step forwards, Jongho casually leans in to peer around your shoulder. Sure, he’s been close to you in the past, but not like this. A fact which just makes a hum of content build in his chest, especially since he can practically feel your body heat radiating against his own. 

You don’t seem to be uncomfortable, save for the slight way you stiffen at first when he gets in close, but he chalks that up to you simply being surprised by his sudden proximity. In fact, if Jongho didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re practically melting into him right now, as if you’re eager to lean into his grip, and he’s not even touching you yet.

That’s when he steps closer, practically pressing himself into your back as his hands find purchase on your waist. The best part is, you let him.

“What ones are you missing?” He asks, voice low right by your ear and sending a shiver down your spine involuntarily. A fact in which he notices, causing a subtle smirk to pull at his lips.

“Uh,” you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat as you scroll to the bottom of the list, “if you want to look for these ones,” you motion to the five bottom titles that appear on the screen vaguely with your thumb, “that would be great.”

“Of course, Darling,” his breath ghosts against the skin of your neck, causing a pleasant shiver to trail down your spine.

Then, just as quickly as the moment comes, it passes. In the blink of an eye, Jongho is already down by the opposite end of the shelves, crouching down to begin looking for the volumes of manga you just told him about.

You swallow once more, turning your attention to the shelves in front of you. Though, now, you find you can hardly focus on the titles, too caught up in the way his hands felt against your body. The ghost of his breath, and touch, still warms your skin.

Little do you know of the smirk that still tugs at the corner of his lips. He can feel you gazing at him out of the corner of your eyes. Fleeting glances as if you don’t want to be caught staring. Yet, Jongho doesn’t mind. In fact, he revels in your gaze. So much so, that he cannot help but take a knee. Leaning into the shelf a bit as if he’s looking at a series you’ve just told him to search for - which he is, in a way - Jongho extends his one leg out slightly, opposite knee raised in the air as he purposely flexes the muscle of his thigh.

The way he can hear your breath hitch in your throat has a pleased rumble building in his chest. He can’t count the amount of times he’s caught you sneaking glances at his body, especially at his thighs. To know that he can have this effect on you, without so much as doing anything, is profound. Truly, there is no greater feeling than knowing that he can affect you as badly as you affect him.

Then, as if he hadn’t just been putting himself on display for you, he reaches out to grab a volume off of the shelf. An innocent smile pulls at his features as he turns to look at you, showcasing the manga in his hand excitedly, “found one!”

Your smile is genuine, if not somewhat embarrassed at the possibility that you’ve just been caught checking him out. “Great!”

Intently, you stare at the shelf in front of you once you turn your attention back to it. At least five minutes must pass by until you’re blinking, finally able to clear your thoughts for the moment as you focus on the task at hand. Ten minutes later, and you’ve pulled five other volumes off of the shelf that you’re missing, Jongho managing to grab three more for you, too.

As soon as you attempt to take the manga from his hands, he’s quirking a brow at you. “What are you doing?”

“I was going to hold my books,” you reply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“What’s that?” He grins, teasingly. “You want me to hold all of your books for you? I’d love to.”

In the blink of an eye, he has your entire stack of books in his hands, a bright smile on his face. You have no idea how he managed to do that, given that your stack of books had been securely held in your own hands only moments before. 

You blink at him before a huff is escaping your lips, muttering under your breath, “damn demons and their damn powers."

Jongho only chuckles in response, motioning for you to lead on with his head.

Shaking your own, you smile to yourself, leading him on the the next section you usually peruse when you enter a bookshop. Only, when you reach where you remember it being last, it’s suddenly not there anymore. 

Your brow furrows slightly, looking around for an employee to help guide you in the right direction.

“You know, if there’s anything that you want to check out, just let me know,” you say casually as you walk back out into one of the main aisles, spotting a worker at one of the kiosks.

“Oh, believe me,” Jongho, again, has to suppress the growl that wants to escape him at the suggestive undertone of your words. Sure, you may not particularly mean them in that way, but he cannot help but to think of all of the ways in which he wants to check you out. Especially after last night. “I will.”

Soon, your voice manages to pull him out of his much too vivid thoughts about pushing you up against one of these shelves and claiming your lips with his own in a passionate kiss while no one’s around.

“Excuse me,” you begin, grabbing the attention of the worker at the kiosk. As soon as they turn around, your eyes are widening right alongside their own, “oh my god, Lainie?"

An excited squeal of your name is all you get in response as she wraps you in a hug. One of which you eagerly return.

“It’s so good to see you!” She says, pulling away to stare into your eyes as she holds you at arms length. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

“I know, right?” You grin. “I’m well, just busy. You know, the usual. How are you? How’s the team? I miss them.”

“Oh, I get that,” she nods, dropping her hands as her eyes widen in understanding. “And I’ve been good, just working on some final projects for school. It’s been good here, same old, same old. Customers are good, some are bad.” She shrugs, then she’s smiling softly. “We all miss you, too. You should come visit more often!”

“I’ve been meaning to, I swear,” you reply, eyes briefly glancing over at Jongho who stands a little ways off to the side, making himself look busy by browsing through the books on display in front of him. “I promise I’ll try and stop by more often.”

“You better,” she threatens teasingly, wagging her finger at you. “We still have to hang out sometime, remember?”

“Of course!” You smile, nodding your head. “Is anyone else from the team in today that I know?”

“Ops was in earlier, but they all left already, unfortunately.” She tells you.

“Damn, I was hoping to say ‘hi’,” you sigh. “Next time, then.”

“Actually, unfortunately, I think Henry is still in,” she grimaces, and you both share a look. “So, be careful.”

“Who’s Henry?” Of course it would be now that Jongho decides it best to insert himself into the conversation.

“Oh, who’s this?” Lainie begins to look between Jongho and you with a quirked eyebrow, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“He’s not-“

“Pleasure to meet you, Lainie,” Jongho smiles, turning on the charm as he extends a hand out for her to shake. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Of course Jongho would take every and any opportunity he can get to make people think he’s your significant other. It’s only been one of his greatest desires since he first saw you all those months ago. He’s not about to let you deny him that simple pleasure, especially not after the events of last night. Even if you turn to shoot him a pointed look from beside him as a result, nudging him slightly with your elbow subtly.

So far, he likes Lainie, hearing no malcontent in her thoughts towards you. Plus, you have talked about her a few times briefly in passing when you mention books you’ve been recommended in the past. In fact, he can tell just how much you adore each other as friends, even without hearing her thoughts projecting themselves shamelessly throughout the room. That’s why he didn’t bother interrupting until now. Both of your reactions, not to mention her own thoughts when she said this other male’s name, nearly had a scowl pulling at his lips.

“Oh, have you now?” She shoots you another knowing look as she shakes his hand, a giggle on her lips. It’s then that she sees your stack of books held in his opposite arm. “I see you’ve found yourself a gentleman.” At the topmost book she sees laying on the pile, of which he must have just added, she grins widely at you. “A gentleman who likes to read.”

“Lainie,” you shoot her a look, tight smile on your features as you can practically feel Jongho revelling in her praise.

It may be small, but knowing he’s gotten one of your friend’s approval means more to him than you’ll ever know. Which is exactly why when he did a brief examination of her thoughts, he grabbed her favourite book off of the shelf to seek that acceptance, especially if it meant her saying something in front of you. If others can see how good he is for you, then it’s only a matter of time before you do as well.

Little do you know of the three sets of ears on the same floor eavesdropping from around a few shelves, scowls resting on their faces as they can hear Jongho’s smug thoughts echoing Lainie’s compliments. It’s like he’s doing this on purpose to torture them, San and Wooyoung no longer focussing on the cookbooks in front of them as they share a brief look between each other. Even Seonghwa, who had been browsing through the romance section, nearly tears the novel in his hands to shreds.

The youngest is really pushing his luck right now, but at least there’s one thing that they can all agree on. None of them like this Henry guy, and they don’t even know what he looks like yet.

Only, before Jongho can bring up the point again, you’re cutting him off.

“Hey, where did we move fantasy to? It’s not where it usually is.” You say, drawing her attention back to you once more.

“Oh, follow me!” She immediately starts leading you to the opposite side of the store on the same level. “Yeah, we just moved sci-fi and fantasy the other week. Confused the shit out of our regulars.”

“You’re telling me,” you chuckle, noticing how Jongho remains silent for the moment.

“Anyways, here you go,” she motions down one of the last aisles of the floor. “I don’t want to keep you guys for too long, and I should probably get back to actually doing my job. If you need anything else, you know where to find me!”

“Thanks, Lainie,” you smile at her, waving after her as she walks off. “Will do.”

As soon as you see her disappear, you’re heading into the fantasy section. Only, you barely make it two steps in when Jongho is rounding on you, a fire lighting behind his eyes as he watches you carefully.

“Who’s Henry?” His voice is stern, but for some reason, you have a feeling it’s more out of concern for you than anything else.

You spare a brief glance in Jongho’s direction before you let out a sigh, “not a coworker I enjoy talking about.”

From the way he takes a small step towards you, you know that he’s begging to ask you why, but from the way he hesitates, you know that he’s doing his best to respect your boundaries and not pry. A fact which warms your heart for the moment, comforting you even if only slightly.

The last thing he wants to do is make you uncomfortable, for this topic already seems to be making you tense. A fact in which drives him insane knowing that there’s nothing he can do to alleviate your distress for the moment.

“I’ll tell you later,” you shoot him a tight smile. “For now, let’s just leave it at the fact that he makes me, and a lot of my other female presenting friends and coworkers, uncomfortable.”

“He’s one of those guys.” Jongho’s eyes widen in acknowledgement, the disgust clear in his tone.

“Thinks he can get away with anything just because he’s the boss’ son.” You spit, somewhat harshly, turning back to the shelves in front of you.

This time, Jongho doesn’t suppress the low growl that builds in his throat, eyes dark as he attempts to put a leash on his anger for the moment. Slowly, he puts the stack of your books in his hands down on one of the shelves beside him. It’s taking everything in him right now not to hunt this fucker down in the store right now and make him pay for everything he’s done to both you, and to others that you care about.

“Has he-“ Jongho practically snarls, lips curling over bared teeth at the mere thought of this bastard hurting you in any way. “Has he-“

You blink, sparing him a glance out of the corner of your eyes. “He’s tried, but so far, I’ve been lucky. He’s just really touchy with me. Makes comments, too.”

Jongho doesn’t even need to ask, he can tell just from your body language the types of advances this slug has made on you. He growls lowly once more, echoed by another, one aisle over.

Your eyebrows raise ever so slightly, “honestly, if I can’t tell you guys apart by snarls alone in a few month’s time, it’ll be a miracle.”

Within the next moment, Seonghwa is rounding the corner, a stack of five books held in his own hands.

“It’s a miracle we don’t tear this bastard apart for what he’s done to you.” He keeps his voice low, a scowl pulling at his features as he comes to stand beside Jongho.

Your eyes go wide, “okay, maybe don’t do that.”

“Believe me, it’s not the worst thing we’re thinking about doing to him.” Jongho briefly meets Seonghwa’s gaze, their eyes flashing beneath the artificial lights of the shop.

“I don’t think tearing him apart, or whatever you’re thinking of doing, in the middle of the store is going to be as effective as you think,” you smile tightly, a slight nervousness to your voice.

A moment of silence passes between you.

“Wooyoung’s complaining you won’t let him at least rip one of his arms off.” Seonghwa states casually, as if it’s the most normal conversation ever.

“Shhh,” your eyes go wide, “keep your voice down!”

Carefully, you look side to side, worried you might be overheard by other customers in the general area.

“Is that why you look like a deer in headlights right now?” Jongho chuckles. “Cause you’re worried about someone overhearing us?”

Your lips purse into a tight line, eyes darting between the two males standing across from you. “Perhaps.”

“Don’t worry, Darling,” Jongho smirks, “there’s no one around to overhear this conversation right now. Well, other than us, of course.”

You shake your head, turning back to the books in front of you and scanning over the titles briefly. “Damn demons and their damn powers.”

Jongho chuckles, recognizing your words from earlier.

“Have you all been eavesdropping this whole time?” You turn to shoot a pointed look at Seonghwa, knowing the other six can hear you right now as well.

“No!” Seonghwa is quick to respond, brow furrowing as he shakes his head.

Jongho nearly scoffs, hearing a resounding ’yes’ come from his other brothers scattered throughout the store.

Even you don’t look convinced as you hum to yourself, turning back to the shelf in front of you only to pull two novels off of it in the next second.

“Wooyoung still wants to know if the dismemberment is completely off of the table.” Seonghwa says casually, browsing the shelf to his left and no longer even looking at you.

You hesitate for a moment, lips parting as a small ‘uh’ escapes you.

That’s when Jongho’s eyes are widening ever so slightly in amusement as realization crosses his features. “You’ve thought about it before.”

She’s picturing it right now. Yunho’s voice in all of their heads nearly has a pleased groan escaping all of them. Though, none are as affected as Hongjoong, who suddenly has to support himself using one hand on the table that he had been perusing.

A brief moment of silence passes between the three of you as you place the two books in your hand beside the stack you already have going.

“Perhaps.” You shrug. “Though, it’s a little too bloody considering all of the books around here. It’d be a shame to damage such beautiful products with such a vile man’s blood.”

Where the hell is this coming from? San’s voice resounds, almost eagerly, in all of their heads.

Are you really complaining? Mingi quirks a brow as he browses a table full of mystery books, even though he knows none of them can see him right now.

Seems as if our love isn’t as innocent as we thought. Yeosang hums, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine as both he and Yunho lock eyes from across the store, smirks pulling onto their features.

“What would you have us do?” Seonghwa breathlessly replies as he places his own stack of books onto a shelf to his left. His gaze is desperate, pleading with you to see how ready and willing he is - how eager they all are - to serve you. Anything and everything you may want them to do right now, they would. No questions asked.

“Woah,” you raise a hand as if to say ‘slow down’, “I may have thought about it, but it doesn’t mean I actually want something bad to happen. I still have my own morals to consider-“

Suddenly, the sound of your name being called out from the opposite end of the aisle is drawing your attention. You freeze immediately, heart thundering in your chest as you turn around stiffly.

He snuck up on you. Probably came from one of the backrooms nearby.

“Henry,” you force a smile to your face as the two males behind you stiffen. “Hey.”

Immediately, you take a step backwards as said male approaches you with an overtly friendly smile on his face. Both Seonghwa and Jongho step forward, flanking you on either side as they stare down the sleazy male approaching you with open arms.

“What? No hug for an old friend?” He pouts as he stands directly across from you, a little too close for comfort.

Jongho’s free arm is around your lower back in a second, pulling you into him protectively. Likewise, the eldest takes another step in closer to you, his one arm slightly reaching out in front of you for added protection. Snarls nearly tug at both Jongho’s and Seonghwa’s lips as they feel Henry give them each a once over. His thoughts aren’t faring much better, either, only causing each demon’s anger to grow the longer you are kept in this situation.

“We were never friends.” You blink at him, and you can see how taken aback he is by your words. Hell, if it weren’t for both males standing protectively around you, you don’t think you would have had the courage to say such a thing to the man across from you.

“Oh, come on,” Henry huffs, a roll to his eyes. “Don’t be like that, sweetheart.”

Both males beside you can feel how physically repulsed you are when he says this, growls threatening to fall from their lips as they glare at the slug across from them. They want nothing more than to tear into this bastard’s flesh, ripping him limb from limb for even thinking he ever stood a chance with you. The fact that Henry has deluded himself into believing his advances were reciprocated disgusts them.

To say that they’re all furious would be a severe understatement.

Fuck it. Your voice resounding through their heads - all eight of them - as you drop your void for the moment, has each one of their hearts skipping a beat in their chests. If he so much as tries anything… they hang on to your every word with bated breath. Break his hands.

If Wooyoung could roar in happiness, he would do so this very instant. Instead, he begins to calmly make his way over to the section that you’re in, San following close behind with that same look of deadly calm on his own features. However, it’s Hongjoong that cannot suppress the maniacal grin that stretches across his lips as he focusses almost too intently on the summary of the book held in his hand.

“Don’t call me that.” Your tone is harsh, all forced sense of social etiquette disappearing from your features immediately.

“You never had an issue with it before,” he retorts with a huff. “Sweetheart.”

The disgust is clear on your features, fury bubbling beneath your skin and rolling through you like waves. The scowl that pulls at your features is dark enough to mirror both Seonghwa’s and Jongho’s own, leaning further into the younger male for support as his grip tightens around your waist.

“What’s with that sour look on your face?” Henry scoffs, quirking a brow. “I thought I told you that you’d be prettier if you smiled more.”

“Watch your fucking tongue, mortal.” 

It takes Seonghwa all the strength he has in him not to lunge at the man standing directly across from him in that very moment. Nobody talks to his Queen like that and gets away with it. A sentiment that he knows is shared by all of his brothers, especially when he sees both San and Wooyoung round the opposite corner of the aisle, black eyes on full display. Each male’s teeth are bared in a growl, hands visibly shaking as they all attempt to put a leash on their anger for your sake.

The last thing that any of them want to do is scare you away. Especially not after all the progress they’ve been making with you in the past few weeks alone. Besides, you’ve essentially asked them all to control themselves for the moment, and that’s exactly what they’re going to do. For you.

Downstairs, the four remaining demons immediately head towards the escalators, making their way upstairs as calmly as they can. Though, internally, there are storms raging within each one of them.

Jongho can feel you beginning to tremble from anger in his arms, and as soon as you place a hand onto Seonghwa’s shoulder, he can feel it, too. Though, he doesn’t know if it’s more for you or for him at this point, but it helps to calm him, even if only the slightest bit.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes only momentarily to steady your nerves. Then, your entire body goes still as you exhale slowly through your nose.

Your eyes snap open, a harsh glare none of them have ever seen your wear gracing your features. “You’re not even worth my time."

It happens instantaneously. As soon as you go to turn around, Henry is reaching out to stop you. Only, a resounding crunch echoes through your ears as you shift to see Seonghwa harshly crushing Henry’s wrist in his hand, the human male’s fingers twitching as his face pales in horror. 

Tears line Henry’s vision as his mouth falls open in a silent scream, as if his voice has suddenly been stolen away from him. Which it has.

“If you ever lay a single finger on My Divine again,” Seonghwa’s voice is low, ominous like the threat of an approaching storm as his eyes flash black, “I’ll destroy you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, blinking a few times in shock at the sudden turn of events. Sure, you may have given them permission to do so, but you didn’t actually think anything would happen. Then again, you shouldn’t really be surprised at this point. They have stated time and time again that they would do anything for you.

Still, you do not want to admit to yourself the way your heart simply fluttered at the fact that he not only listened to you, but defended you without a second thought. You also don’t want to admit how insanely attractive you just found that to be. Maybe having them protect you isn’t such a bad thing, after all.

The longer Seonghwa stands crushing Henry’s wrist in his hand, the more tears spring to Henry’s eyes. His mouth parts like a fish out of water, words stolen from him like he’s under some type of spell. That’s when you realize, he probably is.

Then, an insurmountable amount of rage burns behind Henry’s eyes, going to take a swing at Seonghwa with his free arm. Only, before he can so much as pull his fist back, two resounding cracks echo through the space before you.

Another silent scream tears from Henry’s throat as he is forced to his knees. Both Wooyoung and San now each hold one of his arms behind his back, his shoulders clearly broken and dislocated. 

You don’t even need to turn to look at Jongho to know that his eyes are as black as each of his brother’s right now, his arm still securely wrapped around your waist.

“You’re fucking lucky we don’t kill you right now, you slug,” Wooyoung hisses into Henry’s ear, pulling harshly at his arm and causing a few more pops to be heard.

There’s something about the way you see pure, unaltered fear flash in Henry’s eyes that excites you in this moment. Finally, he is feeling an ounce of what you, and his other victims much unluckier than you, have felt whenever he’s in the same vicinity.

It is then that the other four round the corner behind you, stepping up to assess the situation. Smirks already adorn each of their features, eyes flashing black as they stare down at the man on his knees before them. Ideas swirl within their minds already about how they’re each going to torture him after this, each more creative than the last.

Only, your void dropping once more to let them all in to your thoughts have them pausing briefly in their movements.

Uh, won’t someone notice what’s going on? Your voice is full of worry, eyes flitting to the opposite end of the row of shelves where one of the openings reside.

Yeosang steps up beside you, a reassuring smile on his features as he shakes his head ‘no’.

What do you mean, ‘no’? Your brow furrows, looking between all of them that you can see for the moment as you are still held firm in Jongho’s grip.

We can alter people’s consciousness to avoid certain places for a while if we want. Mingi explains to you, stepping up beside Yeosang to your left.

What about the cameras? You look between them, worry clear on your features now.

Already taken care of. San draws your attention to him as the corner of his lips tug upwards in a smirk.

What? How? You head tilts ever so slightly in curiosity.

It’s almost second nature for us to mess with the frequencies nowadays. Mingi shrugs casually, a soft grin on his lips as he sees your eyes widen in wonder.

A moment of silence settles over you all as you let their words sink in. Then, an idea is springing into your mind.

Question. You blink, and they all turn to look at you with much softer gazes as they feel that familiar curiosity swirling within you once more after going so long without it. Can you ‘alter people’s consciousness’ full stop?

There’s not a hint of fear in your own mind as you ask. A fact which warms their hearts more than you’ll ever know. Then again, perhaps you’re not thinking about whether they have ever done it to you yet, or not. Not that they ever would.

Consciousness, emotions, memories, reality: you name it. Yunho tells you, and they watch as you nod along subtly to his words before your eyes are going wide. The mind is a fickle thing.

Geez, you let out a huff through your nose, is there anything you guys can’t do?

Well, I can’t cook. Mingi supplies, an almost sheepish shrug to his shoulder.

The statement catches you so off guard that you let out a small snort of laughter.

Sorry, sorry, you raise a hand to wave it slightly in front of you in an apologetic motion. I just wasn’t expecting that given the situation right now.

Mingi shares a grin with you, happy to know that he could at least make you laugh even during such a tense moment as this one.

You are taking this surprisingly well. Hongjoong comments, stepping around the others to stand beside Seonghwa who leans against one of the shelves with his arms crossed in front of his chest, still glaring at Henry before him.

Believe me, I’m just as surprised as you are right now. You reply, honestly. Maybe it’s because I feel safe when I’m with you guys. You shrug casually, unaware of how much your meaningful words affect them in this very moment in time. Though, it’s more than likely because I feel no remorse for this fucker. Like, at all.

At that, you all turn to look at the man practically pleading with you using just his eyes. Disgust washes over you, and all eight men are privy to your thoughts of gouging Henry’s eyes out just to make him stop staring at you like that.

Little do you know of the way that your thoughts affect each and every single one of them. Though, none are as affected as Hongjoong, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa are at the moment, pleased rumbles building in their chests as they allow your thoughts to echo shamelessly through their minds. Even San cannot help but to tighten his grip subconsciously around Henry’s arm in response, a pleasant shiver running down his spine.

Anyways, your voice draws their attention back to you once more, I know this is asking a lot, but killing him would be too easy. The reason I wanted to know that particular detail of your powers - which, I’ll admit, is terrifyingly cool, by the way - (they all smile at that, a smugness washing over them at the fact that they could impress you like this right now), is because I have an idea.

Anything. Yeosang repeats his word from earlier that day, all of their eyes shining as they wait with bated breath for your next words.

What would you have us do? San repeats Seonghwa’s words from only minutes earlier, meeting your gaze from across the way as eagerness shines in his dark irises. Anticipation claws at his chest, a feeling of which he knows is shared by all of his brothers right now.

Slowly, you take a step forward and out of Jongho’s arms in order to crouch down in front of Henry who looks at you with pleading eyes. The silence stretching on around him must be eating him alive right now, the unknown terror of what’s going to happen to him next clear in his eyes.

Your own gaze is blank as you tilt your head at him, almost mockingly, blinking once as you rest your elbows on your bent knees. Then, you smile. A malicious quirk of your lips upwards as you stare the man before you down.

“You’re never going to know peace again.” Your words are directed right at Henry, who whimpers as both San and Wooyoung tug at his broken arms once more to keep him from looking away. “You will constantly live in fear of something creeping in the shadows, hiding around every corner and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike you down every chance it gets. You will constantly have to watch your back, too afraid of the dark and what solitude can bring. You will know the terror every single one of us feels when walking alone at night, always feeling like someone is following you, ready and willing to attack at a moment’s notice.”

A tear trails down his cheek, eyes pleading as his fingers begin to twitch on the hand with his crushed wrist. You catch the movement.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” You hum, mocking sympathy as your lips tug downwards in a fake pout. That is, until you’re smirking once more. “Every time you so much as think of touching another person, you will be reminded of exactly how it felt for both of your shoulders to be broken. You will remember how it felt to feel helpless and terrified of what is coming next, scared for your pathetic excuse of a life. Every time you so much as reach for someone else, you will experience the pain of your wrist shattering beneath your skin, and be reminded that you do not own anyone.”

He begins thrashing in the two male’s grips, drawing more whimpers from his throat as tears flow freely from his eyes. You remain passive, observing him carefully.

He’s begging for mercy, isn’t he? You tilt your head once more to the side, eyes blank as you stare at him.

Embarrassingly so. Hongjoong hums, watching the scene before him with an unbelievably fond gaze as he leans back onto the shelf behind him.

Good. You let out a small puff of air through your nose in amusement.

“You will beg for death until the end, but find no comfort in it. Always, you will cling onto life, not quite knowing how, or why a useless waste of space like you has lasted for this long.” You smile, but it is anything but comforting as shadows fall over your features. “And if I ever see you lay your hands on another person again, if I so much as catch whiff of your disgusting scent, I will not be so kind.”

Another whimper escapes his throat as he meets your piercing gaze.

“Pathetic excuse of a human.” You spit. “You make me sick.”

Growls of approval echo all around you, causing your heart to race in your chest for a reason you don’t quite want to acknowledge just yet.

“Oh, and if you so much as try to tell anyone about anything that has transpired here today, or about your little issues, your voice will fail you as you suddenly cannot find the words to speak.” You add, that malicious smile still tugging at your lips. “I know that will be so difficult for you, since you never seem to know when to shut up, but you will. Whether you want to or not.”

You stand back to your full height, looking down at the man who has brought a countless amount of grief and terror to you, your friends and coworkers, and probably a numerous amount of others as well. 

You scowl, words like venom on your tongue. “The shadows are no longer your friends.”

Your final words resonate through the air as you turn your back to him. Bile rises in your throat as you think over everything that has just transpired in the past twenty minutes alone. 

Your one hand comes up to cover the lower half of your face as your eyes close. Did you really just do that? Not only that, but why did you enjoy it so much?

Slowly, you lower your one hand back to your side, eyes flashing open once more. I’m done here.

You don’t even bother to meet any of their gazes as you begin to walk past them. The sound of your footsteps echo alongside Henry’s muffled screams as they implement your wishes in his mind. It takes them no more than three seconds to do so, allowing the now unconscious male to slump onto the ground in a pathetic pool of his own tears.

[khaleesiofalicante]

Hello,

Here’s your mandatory post covering all things OFRI. I usually share this to manage expectations and address some common questions, so here we go.

What is this fic about?

It’s essentially an arranged marriage fic where Magnus and Alec marry each other for their own reasons (mostly because of Asmodeus, lol) and fall in love along the way. I’ve always wanted to write a story where two people fall in love after getting married, so this fic will explore that.

Who are the main characters?

The story primarily revolves around Magnus and Alec. We’ll also see quite a bit of Asmodeus (he’s good in this one, I promise! But as nagging as you can imagine an Asian parent to be!). There will be some appearances by Jace and Izzy, but not many others. Maybe even a surprise cameo from a TLND favorite 👀. The fic is from Alec’s POV.

Is it angsty?

I don’t think so. I’ve written about 20% of this fic, and it’s been cute so far. According to the outline, it does get a bit angsty in some of the later chapters, but nothing too major. Expect some triggering themes like grief and unrequited love, but still, this fic is written with a softer tone. I haven’t written a big malec fic in a while, so I didn’t want to jump back in with something heavy. This one is about 70% fluff, chaos, and pining—I promise.

You said it’s short. What does that mean?

It’s short by my usual standards, but not short overall. In other words, you won’t find many 5k or 10k chapters in this fic. Some pre-written chapters are around 1k or more. However, it’s a 30-chapter fic, which is pretty long in itself. I anticipate it will be between 50-60k overall, which is by no means short. So, please don’t ask why the chapters are so short or request longer ones—I can’t write filler just to make them longer. I can only write what’s necessary.

What’s the writing schedule? When will you post?

The writing schedule for this fic is September-November. I plan to post twice a week (Tuesdays and Fridays - at night). Since I’m writing ahead, you can expect consistent updates.

I heard you’re using a beta for this one. What does that mean?

I am! I’m working with the amazing @gospi. I haven’t worked with a beta before, so I’m still learning what that means too. But so far, I’ve learned more about my writing style and how to improve it. This is especially important to me since I plan to write an original book next year. I hope you’ll appreciate the effort Dee is putting into this!

On a side note, I’m glad this fic has shorter chapters because it makes it easier to work with someone else and get their feedback. I imagine longer, more complex chapters would take much more time and effort and that means we won't get regular updates.

Are you excited to write malec again?

Very much so! This fic has a sassy Alec and soft Magnus dynamic, which is one of my favorites. I’ve also missed writing pining and sarcastic Alec! His POV is always so fun to write. Also, good parent Asmodeus? We love to see it!! I’m still a little nervous about writing for the malec fandom after TLND (mostly because it was overwhelming), so I hope this softer fic will be a nice balance.

Wait, one more question. If the marriage is arranged and they’re not in love, can we expect a happy ending?

Always, babygirl, always.

[omorimodreverie]

Reverie Dev Log - November and December

Side Note: This one is quite long, if you only want an important part, there is a TL;DR summary at the bottom.

New Year Note

Happy New Year! We have now reached 2024! Reverie has begun as a little project since April 2021, before it even has its name. The more modern variant began after the demo release in August 2021, with CH1 releasing in May 2022, so it’s been a long way.

Though to admit, considering CH2.5 update came in December 2022, this means CH3 has a gap of a year now (though there are some updates and patches on 2.5 for a few months. This makes it seem like progress has been in stagnation, especially with delayed dev log recently.

This one will be shorter in technical and progress details, and more about the general gist of development plans in general, the surrounding environmental change in modding and OMORI as a whole (as that bears a great effect currently), and finally explains the slow down a bit (though a TL;DR: basically the past few months is holidays).

Also, Development post will now rather be every 2 months as well.

(And also the time is better spent on actually development than just writing, lol)

Overview

November and December for its period of time wasn’t as much done compared to previous months, though it wasn’t as bad as the worst case scenario when factoring in multiple holidays coming in that could have easily killed the motivation entirely. So all things considered, it’s relatively steady going despite the circumstances

For a quick rundown:

More NPCs implemented in maps

Writing is a bit more organized and more steady in terms of work now (And also an additional writer member!)

Portraits started to be done for most main characters

Connected up some progression from separate disjointed cutscenes

Some new plans that reduces workload*

Some enemy sprites are done as well on the side**

A few changes and re-polish on some music tracks

*for example, sunset are done on same map with filter than whole new set of maps

**Which are low priority, more of optional content in CH3 context

Updates, Changes and Needs

There are multiple factors that affect development, here it will be listed from short term factor to long term factor and potential future.

Holiday and Breaks

Let’s start with easy stuff, the short term factor. The past few months contain multiple holidays and also school breaks for some people. There isn’t much to say here, people on holidays get busy therefore less people are doing mod work, especially Christmas and New Year holiday.

(I mean, reverie is a fan mod project, not a job, lol)

Though there is still at least some minimum baseline of trying to keep interest up with some check in, so the interest doesn’t die off entirely, as mentioned in previous Dev Log before large holidays tend to be in big risk for that.

CH3 and Real World Content

One major thing to think about is the length of the real world section and the amount of content it has. The real world content has a large upfront cost due to making an entire new asset for the majority of aspects, so any new things added more will take far longer time than usual other chapters in the dream world.

There are two major aspects to consider, the mandatory story aspect, and the optional side content aspect. 

Mandatory / Story Content

As of current the main story aspect of CH3 is quite short, unlike Dreamworld areas, the Real world main content mostly revolves around cutscenes and dialogues, if you speed through the dialogue and cutscenes, it could very well take only half an hour or less to go through (though that’s unlikely the way it’s played on first playthrough at least, ignoring reading time).

One conflict is that, Reverie as a mod is far more focused on Dreamworld sections and battle heavy, making real world sections a bit awkward to make, taking quite a large amount of development time compared to other dream world chapters. The question then is how much real world content should be made, factoring in development time?

Side / Optional Content

As for side content, like in base game it’s mostly NPCs giving fetch quests (which are simpler to make), or potentially jobs (which is a bit more complex).

One unique aspect of Reverie over the base game though, is some amount of gameplay battles to at least give something to do (think of Jackson poster in Hobbeez in base game, but more fleshed out).

The important question is, how much side content should there be in the real world section of reverie? While it is cool to have some side content in real world and is a common complaint on base game itself that the real world feels lackluster, making more things in real world also takes up a large amount of development time which is not ideal. It’s a balancing act between not too lackluster but also not too much content which would take too much time.

RPGMV Needs and Modding Community

And finally, the general community aspect. The OMORI fandom has aged quite a while now, and as time passes the amount of people interested is reduced as well. This project is ultimately a fan project so the amount of interest on the mod isn’t really a problem, but what does this mean is there are less people interested in OMORI and also modding in general,.

A fair amount of people who tend to do RPGMaker MV (RPGMV) works tend to now be out no longer modding, or new members who do would tend to be making own project anyways. This means there has been less people who are available with RPGMV side, which means aspects like cutscenes should be cut down smaller to avoid development hell.

What this means for development is the gears shift from previous usual development focused on efficiency (getting task as parallel as possible), to a slower but sustainable development, focusing more on sustaining interest, which is better than losing interest totally.

TL;DR

Basically, the key important points are:

Short term aspect of Holidays and New Year makes November and December slow period in general.

Real World content (and CH3 by extension) is more time consuming and harder to make than other chapters

Therefore, amount of Real World content needs to be discussed, both mandatory and optional content

There has been less people in Omori community in general meaning there is less people to go by, especially RPGMV sector

Therefore, development has switched to a more slow burn state, taking things slow but sustaining interest to avoid burn out or lost motivation

And for development posts, now will be posting every 2 months than every months instead to reduce writing.

And about Applications...

Applications are always open! RPGMV / Programmers are always appreciated!

Final Stuff

Well now that you read this far, here's some portrait of Daphne and Bowen! (and also probably the only few sprite that is showable related to CH3 now)

There isn't much detail, but when resized down it is enough as a sprite

[cffeelia]

discography | chapt. 2

I NEED U — k. seokjin

in which bangtan writes their music about you, all 7 chasing you until someone steals your heart.

chapter summary: you chickened out on calling seokjin back, but found the courage to attempt talking things through with your family

chapter warnings: this chapter is a bit shorter so sorry 😭 i got y’all in the next one with the smut tho pls be patient i’m setting the scene 🙏

previous chapter here

unfortunately, the early morning you experienced a weak ago never happened again, and you were already exhausted from school in the first month. most students wait until at least second quarter to start getting ready in their first classes of the day, but you were already hurriedly applying mascara and setting powder behind your scripts in musical theater techniques.

it was monday, meaning the awful weekend you had was behind you now. your tried to suppress all memories of the spontaneous trip to busan you made on saturday, and the random meeting of your older brother as well. turns out he had a new girlfriend, and you only knew it because of who she was.

“jung jiwoo, i’m so honored to finally meet you! hoseok talks so highly of you.” you tried to bow deeper than her to show your appreciation. she was such a loving sister from what hoseok told you, always looking after him and supporting his musical career. “what brings you to busan then?” you asked.

“just family things, i’ve been dating my boyfriend for about six months now so i figured i would come meet his parents.

the two of you walked through the book store together, stopping at the bathrooms while she waited for her boyfriend. you figured you might as well meet him to explain the strange coincidence.

now you’d have to explain to her how you knew him.

“maeum? oh, hi!”

you tried to control your excitement from seeing your older brother for the first time in so long, but clearly he had a hard time containing his. he ran into your arms, almost crying tears of joy.

“oh my god i missed you so much, why didn’t you call?” words left your mouth before you could control them again, and you slapped a hand over your mouth, not wanting to ruin the good mood the two of you were in.

“babe, just tell her. she’s your sister.” jiwoo angrily pointed back to you as your brother hung his head, tears now visibly welling in his eyes. he offered to talk about it with you two over a meal, walk to the restaurant being uncomfortably silent.

you’ve been here many times with family to celebrate your brothers achievements in school, from being selected as class president in middle school, winning a science fair, or being selected as valedictorian, this was the spot to celebrate. even your birthdays were spent at this hot pot restaurant, it was scary to see how much time modernized it.

the bright kids menus at the front desk were now white, they came with crayons for kids to ruin the pretty designs on them. the cardboard cutout of the restaurants pig mascot was long gone, you remember seeing it turned around at your high school graduation meal.

it’s very bittersweet to imagine how time had passed right by you, but there wasn’t time to be nostalgic for your youth now, maybe later though.

maeum and you were always close, he was the only reason you burst into tears that night your parents saw you walking into your apartment holding confetti and merch from one of bangtan’s first concerts.

therefore, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer. he let his words flow, but not as fast as his tears, that were quickly wiped up by jiwoos napkins (your tears as well).

it turns out your parents researched bts that night they scolded you for lying to their face.

“God, is it so much to ask for you to just do something with your life? you know your own mother never got the opportunity to go pursue what she wanted? huh?”

they were more mad at you than anything, but you knew they’d be just as pissed to find out you had a talking stage with one of the members, that’s why maeum wouldn’t tell your parents too much about jiwoos family.

although you’d come to this restaurant on a dark note, tears were wiped away as drinks came along and the three of you got to chatting as if nothing happened between you in the first place.

on your way home from the restaurant, you promised a tipsy jiwoo that you’d come by to meet hoseok again.

“i want you to be my sister in law, because— because hoseok LOVES you! and he— he never stops” she took a breath between her hysterical sobbing, “talking about you, ____! you need to see him again ok i love you! bye!” she walked away, your brothers hand in hers as you waved to them before heading back to your car.

you packed lightly for your weekend trip, you planned to meet up with jiwoo and maeum again tomorrow to meet your family again. maybe the drinks you had in your hotel room affected you, because saying yes to your brothers invitation is what ruined the whole trip for you.

you flattened your skirt out, hoping your mom wouldn’t give you too much about the shorter cropped sweater you wore, but it was all you packed. you made your way to your car, taking the familiar route to your childhood home, for the first time in two years.

stepping out, you rang the doorbell. it’s like your heart was going to leap out of your chest, you had no time to panic as the door swung open barely a second later. it was your dad.

you never knew him too much, he wasn’t absent, just not all the way involved in your life. the most important recollections you had of him were his pats on the back for getting good grades in school, or driving him to the pharmacy to pick up his medicine. he’s had an autoimmune disease since you were about 11 years old, nothing too serious, it just weakened his defenses against colds.

he would get sick so often, that you can barely remember him ever being one of those dads that comes home from work and sits down to have a family meal. just hospitals, long naps, placing trays on his bedside table, and handing him pill containers. thankfully nothing serious ever happened to him, but you never knew if something could. that fact always left you uneasy, which is why you developed a soft spot for your dad.

you weren’t embarassed about the tears that fell from your eyes as he patted your back. “welcome home!” he said enthusiastically. he lead you into the house, jiwoo and maeum greeting you before maeum suggested you help your mom cook. the house was pretty big, and the structure was still the same. you made your way to the kitchen to see your mom cooking on the patio grill.

“mom?” you poked your head through the sliding door.

“oh! good to see you.” she nodded, not making eye contact with you. it was going to be a long dinner.

your parents seemed to love jiwoo, it made you a bit jealous that you didn’t have any smart and gorgeous partner to bring home (yet). your mind flashed back to jin, memories of him studying english for his first trip to america in your apartment.

“what? i’m world wide handsome, ____!” he patted your back while you lost your shit laughing at him.

“seokjin shut up! no you’re not!”

“she hate me.” he spoke into his phone. namjoon’s english was the best of any members, he consulted you regularly for tips but still was pretty damn good on his own.

memories hit you like a fucking bus as you sat at the table, listening to your brothers laughter. if only you had someone to laugh with like him, if only seokjin was here. he would love the grilled fish your mom makes, and your dads god awfully loud belting to the music on the radio.

you could listen to jin sing for hours, never getting tired of his gorgeous voice. on some nights, after you both showered the smell of sex and sweat off yourselves, you’d let jin spoon you. his long, slender arms wrapped around your waist, you felt his chest vibrate while he hummed your favorite songs to you until he passed out.

poor baby works too hard and still finds time to love on you, you didn’t deserve him. you never did. that’s why when your mom rudely asked how successful your “boys” were looking, you coldly responded with “i’m not working there anymore. i go to daegu arts university mom, you would know if you called me.” jiwoo took offense to your moms comments, her usually bright smile fell off her face, replaced by a slightly pissed glare in her eyes.

“well we would call if you were doing something i wanted to know about, daughter. i understand you’re an adult now but i raised a smart lawyer, not whatever path you’re taking. seriously, am i the only one ashamed of you? maeum, you could at least encourage her, sweetheart!” your mom kept complaining, you chose silence for the first time in your life. this wouldn’t be the first argument you two had, but you preferred not to embarrass yourself at your first family dinner in two years.

however, silence didn’t choose you.

“and to make it worse you’re chasing around some stupid boys who call themselves singers? passions don’t pay, ____. give up on those stupid dreams already.”

“you’ve said enough” your dad lightly warned her

“yes you have” you said back, “mom, what did you do with your life? decide to get pregnant at 18 and become a victim to the economy for the rest of your life? you think being a university professor means anything? your teaching degree has clearly gone to waste then, because i haven’t learned shit from you except how to ruin my potential and kill all my happiness. i can’t sit around here and let you clown me like im not your own kin, seriously. it’s like you don’t even fucking love me, i wish you would just die already so i don’t have to hear your fucking mouth anymore.”

the sound of your metal chopsticks clanking as you walked out echoed way too loud in the empty dining halls. you made your way right to your car, heading to your hotel to pack up and go home. fuck busan and your moms stupid fucking grilled fish.

you slammed your car door, almost knocking it off the hinges. immediately calling sullyoon to tell her the good news.

“hey ____! i was just thinking of you, how’s busan?”

“not the best, but i’ve got good news! i’m coming to see bts with you all next week”

next chapter here

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC origins

Thanks @paeliae-occasionally here, @the-golden-comet here, @leahnardo-da-veggie here, and @honeybewrites here!

Rules: tell us the origin of the names and personalities of a couple OCs!

I already did Lexi and Maddie here! I also like talking about character design changes so here we go.

Ash:

Ash's first incarnation was in Draft One of TSP. She was Alexia's best friend Aurora Flité. I don't remember how I came up with the name. She was also ten with little personality, although she had more than Alexia. Aurora seemed to be overdramatic, more than anything. She had telepathy, which has remained consistent. Aurora had pale skin and freckles like she does now, but that's about the only thing that has stayed the same. She was originally based on my best friend though I gave her longer hair, down to her waist. I described Aurora's hair as a blackish brown with red highlights, though I just made it brown in Draft Two. Aurora's hair progressively got shorter over time until it became Ash's much shorter hair in Draft Five, where her hair changed to black. Her eyes used to be blue but soon became greener until they were completely green. I'm not sure when I got rid of her glasses. I don't remember defining Aurora's wardrobe, but I remember it being layered and colorful. Now, Ash wears mainly jeans, T-shirt, and a plaid overshirt. In Draft Five, I also gave her rings. In Draft Two, Aurora's surname was Austin, but I changed it to its permanent Hathaway in Draft Three. The name Ash was chosen because when starting Draft Four, I had another character named Aurora in what later became SOTL (her name isn't Aurora now either lol), so I realized I should probably change her name, especially since I was growing less fond of it for her (nothing against the name itself). I felt like she still needed an A name, so I improvised Ashley while I was writing. However, I tried just calling her Ash and I got attached to it right away, so I went back and changed previous mentions (this was while writing chapter one). Ash Hathaway still sounded good so I kept her surname. Personality-wise, Ash has changed quite a bit. She's still super hard to get down, though, so I need to work very hard on her. So this will be hard to describe. Ash isn't overdramatic anymore, that's for sure. She's a lot more reckless than she used to be. She is more curious and prone to liking adventure, which is something I'm trying to emphasize more in Draft Five. Scientifically-minded, I'd say. In Draft Four, I felt Ash's descent into obsession and refining her power and sinking into jealousy etc happened too fast. I'm going to have to fix it, which I'm trying to do. It's hard to describe her progression when I'm in the middle of it!

Gwen

Gwen's equivalent character did not exist until Draft Two. Like most here, she was originally based on someone I knew before I changed her up a bit. In Draft Two, Gwen's name was Andrea Armstrong, though in Draft Three she went by Andy. Andrea never made an official appearance, she was just a planned character, but Andy had one scene at the beginning of Draft Three. In Draft Two, Andrea was planned to have the power to take characters out of books, but in Draft Three I planned it to be invisibility, which it stayed throughout the rest of the series. For her design, Andrea/Andy had light brown skin, hair, and eyes. I'm not sure what her wardrobe was. Gwen still has very light brown skin and eyes but her hair is darker, though she usually wears it in a braid. I gave her glasses when I decided people with invisibility typically need them, but she didn't get them until Part Three of Draft Four, while in Draft Five she got her glasses during Part One. She also now wears boy's jeans (for pockets), a tank top, and a sweater. I think Andrea just came to me and I thought Andy was a cute nickname. Gwen came up because the friend she was based on wished her name started with a G (because her crush had a name that started with a G... Oh, middle schoolers...) so I fulfilled her wish, and Gwen was the first name I thought of. Since she was always meant to have a Mexican mother and Italian father (or equivalent), I looked up Italian surnames because I couldn't think of any off the top of my head, and just said "Gwen [surname]" until something sounded right, and since it's Amante and I assume the list was alphabetical, it didn't take me too long. Personality-wise, Gwen used to come across as a lot more shyer and hesitant than she turned out, despite keeping her introverted nature. Gwen became even more loving and caring and compassionate etc than ever, soon getting a fire burning inside her, which only happened due to what I put this poor girl through in Parts 2-4, or at least what's drafted of them. Starting Draft Five, Gwen had developed so much in Draft Four into a character I love dearly, with many layers to her, so she was easier to write and build up.

Tagging @cherrybombfangirlwrites @dyrewrites @diabolical-blue @winterandwords @paeliae-occasionally

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites

[rhymeswithchronic]

Art by my sister-in-law and one of my best friends, plebianplant! I realized that, while I post a lot of art and chapter updates for this story, I never actually explained what What This World Has to Offer was! So, here's an introduction post for it! I'd like to do it for some of my other fanfics, too, but we'll have to see :3

“The Reign of Giants will come and go Shipwrecked will he, we'll never know When finally, the end of lives Begins with the fall of five”

A world fraying apart from the seams would do anything to save itself. If that means damning innocent souls to a neverending Hell, then so be it. The Host, The Young Heir, The Martyr, The Sister, and The One True Heir. The Host of Their Master The Young Heir to a Throne of Shadows The Martyr Who Gave Up Everything The Sister of the Monster in the Dark The One True Heir to a Kingdom of Bones Don't be afraid. This is what is meant to happen. This is what you're meant to be. After all, it's all happened before, and it will all happen again.

Part 1 - Reign of Giants: Chapter 1-50 Part 2 - The One True Heir: Chapter 51-67 Part 3 - The King’s Gambit: Chapter 68-? Part 4 - ?

What This World Has to Offer is posted by Pokemaniac5000, Moonweaver50, or Pokemaniac7000 depending on which site you read it on. It is a Don't Starve longfic with an estimated 109 chapters in all. At this point in time, 90 of these chapters have been written and posted, totaling roughly 294k words. Each part in this story has a different set of plotlines, but all follow the same characters, the same timeline, and the same story. Part 1 - Reign of Giants is largely episodic, focusing on events that only span a few chapters at a time instead of anything that requires longer sections of writing to cover. In this part, you can expect a lot more of the game elements to be explored such as sanity, seasonal changes, and of course, as the name implies, the Giants! This section also features the least content warnings, although the later chapters lean much closer to the darker subjects of the later chapters. Expect to see a whole lot of Webber, Wilson, and WX-78, and just a little bit of Winona at the tail end. Part 2 - The One True Heir features Webber and Wilbur almost exclusively and explores a bit of Shipwrecked and the Archipelago. This is when many of the content warnings lean towards mental health issues. This is the shortest part in the entire fic. Part 3 - The King's Gambit introduces and explores Adventure Mode, with a twist to the formula to make it unique from your own playthrough of it. While this is the darkest part of the story, this section also focuses a lot on concepts like love, friendship, and found family. Expect to see the worst angst but the lightest fluff. Part 4 - Dust, The Void, and Them is the current arc. Details I can reveal are sparce as I have just begun posting it :3 The original story was written back in 2015 and finished in 2016 by a plucky 13-year-old with no concept of story or character growth, so many may recognize it from its original version. The rewriting process started in 2017, and as such, earlier chapters tend to be shorter with less descriptive writing. I expect to finish the rewrite by the end of 2024, although it might be earlier than that if my intense excitement for the story continues the way it has. If you are new to WTWHTO, welcome and I hope you enjoy! It is certainly a bit of a commitment, but I hope you find it worth your time nonetheless. Expect lots of random art, a writer who is so scared of drawing humans that she avoids drawing them like the plague half the time, and a story filled with angst, hurt/comfort, and found family. If you are one of the poor souls who read the original version back in 2015, welcome back! I assure you, much of this story has changed in the past several years and there is so much more for you to explore as you reread. Also, uh, yeah, Winona's in this now! Enjoy! My inbox is always open for any questions or comments you may have! Read on Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction.net, or the Don't Starve Forums! Archive of Our Own Fanfiction.net Don't Starve Forums

[padfootagain]

An update!!

Hi everyone! Just wanted to make a quick update!

As you all know, I've finished posting Only an Almost a couple of days ago. Thank you all for your love and support towards this fic, I won't lie and pretend that I'm not very emotional finishing up this fic after working on it for 6 months non-stop. Again, thank you to all of you who read and supported this fic, I was so happy to see your positive reactions to this story!

A new posting schedule will be posted on Sunday (23/06/2024), and it will include the dates for a Hozier one-shot and the final chapters for Something Good, my on-going Ben Barnes series.

While these will be posted, I'm going to finish writing my professor! AU for Hozier. I want to get it done before starting posting, so I can make regular updates, in a similar way I did for OaA.

Problem is (even though it's not a problem)... the professor AU is going to be much longer than OaA...

I'll need at least 4/5 chapters to get the plot fully going, I'm having a weak spot for the last chapters and have decided to add at least 4 chapters at the end... and yes, the plot is not plotting yet, most of what I've written so far is just bits of scenes or chapters that are not bound together yet.

For reference, this is OaA as I've posted it (the fic in itself is a little shorter than that, cause this includes the few hundred words I'm adding as notes at the beginning of chapters with the general info, summary, word count...) :

This is the professor AU! with the first 3 chapters complete, parts of the ending complete, and bits of important scenes; I estimate that I'm about halfway through :

So, as you can see, the fic should be around twice the length of OaA...

Which means that I'm gonna need a few more weeks to finish it! I'm hoping to start posting by the end of July, we'll see how efficient I am.

Anyway, hope you'll like the new fics I'm preparing!

Have a lovely day!

[givemea-dam-break]

hi my love, can you do anthony lockwood x reader

possibly with prompt 17 or 24 from the angst list?!? ive been craving some lockwood angst recently and i love your fics so who else could i ask to fulfill my needs

a/n: yes yes yes i have been dying for angst it’s my favourite thing to write. i'm so glad you like my fics! feeling honoured rn. this is shorter than some of my other fics, but i hope you like it!

warnings: angst, language prompts: "You're not my friend anymore, remember?" and "You left, you left, and now you have the gall to come back like nothing happened." gn reader

Your day couldn't have gone worse.

Originally, your plans for your first day off in weeks had been to spend your time in the library nearby, listening to the rain on the tall windows as you read in your favourite seat before stopping off to grab a takeaway on your way home.

Of course, things can never go to plan in a world haunted by ghosts.

To preface, the Visitors aren't the problem, not today at least.

You've reached a particularly good chapter of your book when things start to go wrong. You're completely content just reading away, sipping on some tea in your travel mug, when a shadow looms over the pages, making it hard to read.

Looking up, slightly irritated, you say, "Hey, do you mind moving, please?"

Then you see the face, and the irritation melts into something more: fury.

Anthony Lockwood stands before you, soaked with rain and dripping all over the floor. His hair, usually neatly brushed, looks like a wet rat, and his cheeks are flushed from the November chill. From the way he smiles, they remind you a little bit of apples. You like apples considerably more than you like him.

"What do you want?" you ask.

Lockwood points at the free chair next to you. "Can I sit?"

"Absolutely not."

"Right." He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat. "Can we talk?"

"Also, no," you say, returning your attention to the book. "Goodbye."

A sigh. "(name), please, it's important."

"Important enough to bug me on my only day off? No, I don't think so."

You hope for a moment that he'll turn and walk away, but this is Anthony bloody Lockwood, and when does he ever listen to you? He moves, sinking into the seat beside you, and crossing his legs. You make a point of ignoring him, continuing to read the last paragraph you were on.

"We need your help."

No response. You keep on reading.

"(name), please. It's a big case, and we could really use your Talent."

Again, you ignore him, silently mouthing the words as you read them. Your focus on him strays, and for a minute it's as if he's no longer there, but the scent of bitter tea and citrusy shampoo lingers, taunting you.

Swiftly, you shut your book and stand, grabbing your bag. The action seems to shock Lockwood, and his daze gives you enough time to slip the book back into its slot on the shelves and storm out of the library.

Alas, Lockwood has long legs and catches up momentarily.

"I don't want to talk to you," you grumble, pulling your hood over your hair as you step out into the rain.

"I know, and that's my fault, but, please, listen this once. We -"

"Need my help. Yeah, I got that." Squeezing through a crowd of kids heading into the library, you continue, "But, thing is, I'm not an agent anymore. And, even if I was, you're not my friend anymore, remember? You gave up that right months ago. I wouldn't help you even if my life depended on it."

That stops him short. You keep on walking, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

"You're not an agent anymore?" he asks, catching up once more.

You scoff. "Haven't been since that last case we went on, and I don't plan on becoming one again."

Judging from his expression, he hasn't taken the news lightly. He almost looks betrayed, and that makes you want to strangle him. He's got no right.

"Why not?"

"Because," you say, stopping at the side of the pavement, out of the way of other people, "you left. You left me there, Lockwood. And now you have the gall to come back like nothing happened! You don't just do that."

His frowns. "I didn't leave you."

You want to scream at him, to pull your hair out. It feels like you're about to explode from the rage you're feeling.

"Yes, you left. I was left in that goddamn maze of a mansion by myself while you and George, what? Went to go have some celebratory doughnuts? Not all of the sources were secured, Lockwood. I almost died trying to get out of there."

"I didn't -" His face blanches, and he looks like he's going to be sick. "We thought we'd secured them all."

"Well, you didn't. Want to know why I didn't go back to Portland Row for a week before getting my stuff? I was in the hospital recovering from ghost touch. Took my a month to regain full use of my right arm, you know. I almost lost my arm, in fact. But you didn't ask, you just stood and watched as I packed my stuff."

That makes him angry. "What was I meant to do? There was no stopping you."

"I wanted you to try," you say, and your voice wavers. His expression softens. "If you'd tried, I might've stayed. I might've forgiven you. But you just watched. You never asked me where I was for that week. No, you were busy revelling in your success and hiring other agents."

"We needed another agent, anyways."

"You should've checked on the one you had!" Your breathing is heavy, and your head hurts from the myriad of emotions swirling around. "I'm not - I'm not doing this right now. Today was meant to be a good day. Goodbye, Lockwood. Don't come see me again."

You start to walk away, but his hand clasps around your wrist. Scowling, you tug it from his grip, looking at him incredulously.

"I'm sorry, (name)," he says. In his defence, he's being genuine, but that doesn't mean that you're having any of it. "I am. About all of it. Please, can we talk it out?"

Thank god for the rain, because it hides the tears in your eyes. "No. I - I'm going home, and you're going to leave me alone. I don't want to see you again."

Lockwood's jaw goes slack. "Please, I'm sorry. I can't lose you."

"The minute you left me alone on that case, you lost me," you say. "I don't care how sorry you are. It does nothing. It doesn't stop me from seeing the moment I almost died every night when I sleep. It doesn't change the fact that I don't trust you anymore."

"(name) -"

"I pray that your new agent, Lucy, 'the Superstar' - that's what you called her on live TV, right? - I pray she doesn't have the same fate. I hope things work out well for you, Lockwood, truly, but that doesn't mean we'll ever be friends again. Now, I'm going home."

"Please don't go." His voice is a little shaky. It's the most emotion you've seen from him other than that fake smile he gives to the press. "Please, I'll do better."

You shake your head. Then, wordlessly, you turn and make your silent, miserable trek home.

[ghostssweetgirl]

crazy over you ~ simon ghost riley x reader slow burn/enemies to lovers

description: y/n gets transferred to task force 141 and quickly becomes friends with soap and gaz, but her and ghost "hate" each other for the first part. warnings: mentions of violence and death (duh), alcohol intake, smoking (at some point), nsfw (at some point), subtle flirting with soap. i'm new to writing? so don't expect this to be the greatest. this is not in line with the game campaigns or missions. the only characters i included are y/n, soap, gaz, price, & ghost. i have no knowledge of the military this is just creativity disclaimer: i do not own modern warfare or any of its characters.

chapters: next [switch] last

A/N - Very short chapter but it's because the last one was long. Update: Work has got me caught up so... Between editing what I was unhappy with in this story and work being extra, I've just started catching up with writing the rest of the story. Release times will be shorter from here on out. Just warnin' ya! I do have notes and stuff so it should make writing the next few chapters easier :) 

As you and Simon exit the hotel, you get into the passenger side of the vehicle.

"I had fun, Simon," you smiled at him. "Thank you for coming out with me..."

"Same here, doll." Weird, he was short with you again. Figuring it was just work, you let it go and enjoy the ride back, feeling happy with the outing.

Before the ride got too quiet, you made sure to compliment him. "You're... a good kisser, by the way. Never been kissed like that."

He raised his eyebrow, quickly peeking at you. "Hm."

"Is... everything okay?" you sheepishly asked.

"Affirmative, just work. One thing, luv. Ghost on the field and in front of others."

"Okay, understood, sir."

--

Arriving back at base, you walk into the safe house before Ghost does, and immediately go to find food. Soap and Gaz are in the kitchen and ooh-ing and aww-ing at the two of you.

"Fuck off, pests," Ghost spat as he made his way to his room. You look over your shoulder at him, noticing his sweet demeanor had, in fact, switched. No longer Simon. 

Sitting down at the table after grabbing some leftover scrambled eggs, you, Soap, and Gaz watch Ghost leave without a word. And as soon as he walks out the door...

Soap looks over at you, excited. "How was it?"

"Did you see his face? Is he ugly?"

"How was the movie?"

"... How big is it?"

You choked on your food at the last question, staring off into space, now trying to catch your breath at the randomness of Soap's ask. You laugh before you respond, chewing the last bit of your food. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"N-not like that, lass..." Soap put his head down, realizing how he sounded.

"No, it was fine. We watched Robin Hood... The Disney version... I didn't see his... full face."

"Did ya kiss?" he smirked.

Your smile instantly gave it away as you blushed at the thought, remembering being on Si-Ghost's lap like you were. 

"Ahhh! Was it good? Tell me," Soap took a sip of his orange juice.

You nodded, "Damn good."

Gaz shook his head in playful disapproval. "Done with your questions, Soap?"

"Aye... For now..." he squinted at you. "I'll leave 'er alone..."

You hummed, "We had pizza. And nearly 2 bottles of whiskey."

"Lucky bastards..." they spoke in unison, looking at each other as the words came out of their mouths. 

"We got to sleep in a real bed," you smirked, playfully rubbing it in their faces. 

Soap paused, "YOU GUYS SLEPT TOGETHER?! LIKE - IN THE SAME BED?!"

You furrowed your brows, "Yeah? I mean - he didn't sleep, I slept... on him. Jesus, I'm probably not supposed to be saying any of this... It was fun, okay, Soap? We had our own little time and got to know each other more. I'm just glad he doesn't hate me... anymore."

"Yeah, yeah..." he tutted, jealous - you weren't sure of what, though. 

[darkstarofchaos]

Ten years ago today, I posted Chapter One of my first real Transformers fanfic: a delightful little G1 story in which Megatron finally had Starscream reprogrammed, at the behest of Soundwave. It started out okay, but eventually I found myself getting tangled up in plot threads, and every chapter was increasingly more difficult to write than the one before it. In 2020, I finally decided to do what I'd been tempted to do for a while, and discontinued the story - albeit with a promise of a rewrite.

I started this year hoping I would have the rewritten version finished and ready to start posting for the 10th anniversary. When that became an impossibility, I'd hoped I could finish a shorter prequel that I had lying around in my drafts in time. Unfortunately, that didn't work out either. And now this post is what I'm left with for commemoration.

The first version of the story had a lot of issues in the background. One of the biggest, which might not seem like an issue at all to some, is that I knew the characters better from fanfic than from canon. I was inundated in Starscream redemptions where Megatron was an evil rapist and at least some Autobots became sympathetic the moment they discovered that Starscream was being abused. In fact, one of the earliest ideas for the fic in its conception stages was for Starscream to eventually get help from the Autobots (and, yes, for Megatron to be the main villain. Minus the rapey bits, I had no desire to do that).

The thing is, I love canon, and I love rooting my stories in canon. Even in the early chapters, when I had only seen most episodes once, I was making references to Starscream's Brigade, The Revenge of Bruticus, and of course, Fire in the Sky. After Hook inserted himself as a supporting character, I started planning a retelling of events from The Secret of Omega Supreme. A whole minor plotline involved the Decepticons planning to steal the Matter Duplicator from Cosmic Rust. Taking a bunch of unrelated one-shot episodes, some of which contradict each other irreconcilably, and forcing them to exist in one logical narrative, is one of my favorite things about writing fanfic.

Which is why, the more time I spent with canon, the harder it became to write characterizations that no longer felt right.

Starscream, of course, is an example of this. While I don't regret his portrayal after being reprogrammed, the few scenes beforehand take a fairly flat, if admittedly canon-typical approach. He fights with Megatron, he wants leadership. And there's not much to him beyond that. Canon-compliant in the most soulless way possible. But while my approach to him has changed considerably, he's not the one whose characterization feels the most off to me.

I mentioned that Megatron was originally conceived as the main villain. That plan changed early on, with Soundwave taking the role, but Megatron was still meant to be a major antagonist. I leaned into emotional abuse over violence, but he was still terrible to Starscream. He still had him reprogrammed, and still enjoyed having control over him. He cared a little, in his own way, but he was still abusive and cruel.

Here's the thing. I was not comfortable writing Megatron back then. He was freaking intimidating, and I actively avoided writing his POV for three chapters. Every time he interacted with Starscream, it felt too intimate. And this wasn't an erotic story. It wasn't even (explicitly) gay. But he was just not capable of being in the same scene as Starscream without my wanting to depart the premises. And it took me literal years to get past that.

Turns out the solution was to throw up my hands and let them be gay. Yes, your honor, the evil alien robots have an abusive, mutually destructive relationship. They also care about and trust each other in ways that would make no sense to anyone else.

I don't think I need to explain why this creates an issue with the core premise of my story. Figuring out how to make this work has been. Interesting.

Getting anything ready to post for the anniversary didn't happen. But as I mentioned, there's a short prequel in progress, and I plan to have it out sometime before the end of the year. Y'all can find a little sneak peek under the cut if you're interested.

Megatron turned his gaze to Bruticus. "Once we finish reprogramming Bruticus to obey only me, he will be unstoppable." The look on his face as he surveyed his prize said everything. He didn't care about having Starscream back. All he cared about was his powerful new toy. That was all he ever cared about, and Starscream knew that. It had been made so painfully clear on so many occasions that it hadn't even occurred to him to hope for anything else. So why did it still hurt? Starscream looked at Bruticus as well and wondered if he should even bother saying anything else. It seemed pointless. Besides, Megatron had indirectly told him to get back to work. To do otherwise would only make him mad, and Starscream was tired of people being mad at him. If he returned to Earth, everyone would be mad at him. Mad at his actions against the Decepticons, at his being taken back despite those actions, at… everything. He couldn't think of a single bot who wasn't mad at him right now, unless Megatron had truly decided to forgive and forget. And they would stay mad for a long time, in all likelihood. He already deserved it. But he was about to deserve it a whole lot more. "I should get to it, then," he muttered, sinking back down next to Bruticus' head. He hoped Megatron would take the hint and leave him alone, but the warm weight of a hand on one air intake told him he wasn't going to be that lucky. "I wonder," Megatron said, as though the thought had just occurred to him. "How can I trust you to actually do what you're supposed to?" Doubt? He had been praising Starscream for a successful plan not even ten seconds ago and they were already back to doubt? Maybe Starscream should have expected the crumb of approval to be taken away immediately, but like the realization that all Megatron wanted was to control Bruticus, it hurt. "And who would you assign to the task instead?" Starscream asked bitterly. "Shockwave?" "Still jealous?" Megatron said. His thumb slid along the edge of Starscream's intake. "Have you already forgotten that your jealousy is what got us here in the first place?" Starscream hunched his shoulders, staring at Bruticus' exposed processor without seeing it. He hadn’t forgotten anything. Their argument about Shockwave and his own subsequent attack on Megatron was all he’d been able to think about since being cast out from the Decepticons. And he still didn’t understand why he’d been cast out. They argued all the time, and he’d attacked Megatron on numerous occasions. What made that last fight different? What had he done? His chest throbbed. But it wasn’t just emotional hurt this time, or the anxiety that still threatened to build into panic. This was a phantom pain. A reminder that the last time Megatron got mad at him before all this, he’d torn a hole in Starscream’s chest. Whatever had changed - whatever Starscream had done - it had happened a while ago. “Fine,” he muttered tonelessly. “Let Shockwave do it. Who cares.” He made to stand, but his legs buckled, spilling him back to his knees. He caught himself with trembling arms and shut off his optics, head swimming from the sudden drop. Humiliation prickled over his armor, or maybe it was just neural lines shutting down to conserve energy. At this point, he couldn’t tell. Metal creaked beside him and Megatron’s hand settled on his back, gently rubbing along his spinal strut. “You blasted fool,” Megatron scolded, though without much heat. “When was the last time you even had access to fuel?” Starscream was tempted to comment on the barren nature of most asteroids, such as the one Megatron had seen fit to dump him on. But it would be a waste of energy he didn’t have, so he settled for turning his face away, silently rejecting the false concern.