#shattered halos. <3

[strvberrydoll]

Rosemary

Summary: who would have thought that a small piece of paper could be the very thing that would crush your dreams with Arthur ? part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

AO3 link (better rewritten version of this fic on ao3)

pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

content: suggestive, angst, hurt/no comfort (for now) probs grammar errors srryy

wc: 2k

a/n: hear me out, I thought about writing a jealous!reader oneshot with Arthur but,, I got a bit carried away and so many ideas came into my mind so I was thinking about making this a mini series with a pt.2. Let me know if you’d be interested in a pt.2 <33 (gif from pinterest)

Nothing was more relaxing to you than fixing some of Arthur’s shirts and pants while sitting outside your shared tent.

Seated on a small cushion placed on the ground with your back against one of Arthur’s chests your hands worked delicate but precise movements mending the cotton of his favorite black shirt. The rays of light sparkling from the east coast of the flat iron lake at Clemens Point casting a golden halo around you and the usual buzzing of camp making you feel at ease, letting you loose yourself in your thoughts.

During these moments your mind often drifted to thoughts about you and Arthur, the way he would make you feel all warm inside like a young naive teenager with just his soft glances and loving touches, how he would make you dream some of the craziest things for a couple of outlaws like yourselves like having a proper family with him, getting proper married before god and maybe even owning your very own ranch at some point.

Your dreamy stream of thoughts was soon interrupted as Mary Beth’s light footsteps on the dry grass could be heard coming towards your direction, with a strange expression you couldn’t quite decipher on her face and a small letter in her hands. As she saw you sitting down near yours and Arthur’s tent her fair features twisted into an anxious manner, her expression resembling the one of someone who just ate a whole lemon in one go, her steps faltering almost imperceptibly before continuing her path towards your shared tent.

“Hiya Miss,” she said in a chirpy tone, her voice higher than usual as she stopped in front of you, her eyes looking around avoiding your confused gaze as she played with the paper edge of the letter in her delicate hands.

“Arthur hasn’t come back yet ?” Strange. Her voice cracked a little at the end. She quickly cleared her throat with a small smile. Mary Beth's usual cordial and friendly façade cracked the more she was near you, letting you see her unusual unease.

“‘M afraid not, he said he was going into town for some ‘deputy thing’ with the Grays, why ? Did something happen ?” you replied imitating Arthur’s low voice and accent as you put down his shirt which was now fixed and your sewing kit. At your failed attempt at imitating his accent Mary Beth let out a small laugh, covering her smile with her free hand, relaxing just a tiny bit before regaining her previous composure.

Smoothing out the white envelope in her hands she handed it over to you, as you took it you couldn’t help but notice the sender’s name written in what you called a ‘fancy cursive’. You weren’t exactly good at reading or writing but the fancy ink swirls made out a familiar name.

The sender was Mary Linton.

“It’s for Arthur, it arrived this morning,” she told you looking at you with something in her eyes you couldn’t quite make out. Was it a shared distaste for the woman in question or was it perhaps pity toward you what you could see reflected in her eyes ?

You weren’t a stranger to who Mary Linton was, having joined the gang when you were eighteen and Arthur fresh of twenty-six you knew who Mary was, how she was Arthur’s first love, the woman he almost married if it wasn’t for her strict father not approving his lifestyle. The woman who completely shattered his heart.

You knew that after his breakup with Mary he was distraught, drinking and sleeping around almost every night before eventually getting one of the girls he slept with pregnant with his son Isaac. How he, from time to time, went to Eliza’s cabin and visited them, never failing to bring sweets and shiny toys for his Isaac who met him with a toothy little smile every time Arthur visited them until one day the only thing Arthur was met was an empty robbed cabin and Eliza’s lifeless body hugging Isaac’s one.

For almost a year you helplessly witnessed Arthur, the gang’s main enforcer, spiraling more and more into a toxic lifestyle. He began to drink more, often found sitting near the campfire drunk every night, his actions during jobs sloppy and reckless not sparing a single ounce of mercy for whoever dared to wrong him. His mood around camp bringing everyone down until one day you decided you had enough.

He had just come back from a job went wrong with Hosea, the older man's sour mood perceptible from miles away as he hitched his horse and quickly walked away to his tent, leaving Arthur behind talking pretty much to himself how it wasn’t his fault and he didn’t do anything wrong, the pungent scent of alcohol surrounding the space around him. Seeing the scene in front of you you quickly put down your cleaning rag and marched towards him giving him a loud earful in front of everyone in camp not caring that he was a 6’1 massive killing machine of an outlaw and eight years older than you and that you were the last addition to camp making you a nobody in the eyes of what was basically Dutch’s golden child. You simply had enough.

From that moment onwards Arthur started to get better, letting go of his usual whisky bottle and surprisingly starting to pay attention to you rather than avoiding or despising you, eyeing you with respect each time you expressed your opinion around camp, coming to your tent almost every night for advice or just to talk about life opening up to you about his family and past love building day by day an unexpected friendship which blossomed years later into your current relationship.

Seeing her name now again after so many years left you with a sour taste in your mouth.

You took the letter and placed it on Arthur’s nightstand as you thanked Mary Beth and began to tidy up your things.

The sky was beginning to lose its rosy color making space for a deep blue when Arthur came back, the gallop of his and Dutch horses announcing their arrival into camp.

You were chatting with Karen and Javier at the round table near the fire when you felt his hand on your shoulder, the scent of wood and gunpowder filling your nose letting you relax under his soft touch. He bent down to quickly kiss your cheek, a small show of pda which left you all warm inside, almost letting you forget about the letter. Almost.

“Hello sweetheart,” he said in his usual low tone near your ear, a shiver traveling down your spine at his vicinity a soft blush making its way into your cheeks.

“Miss Jones, Javier” he greeted your company before taking your hand in his calloused one letting you up from your seat and guiding you towards his tent leaving Karen and Javier sharing knowing glances between them.

As soon as you walked into your shared tent he made quick work of closing the flap before taking your face in his hands and kissing you. His soft kisses soon turned into hungry ones as his right hand left your soft cheek to trace down your neck then your collarbones before settling on your hips using your hips to guide you to lay on the bed.

“missed ya a lot today sweetheart,” he breathed on your neck as he positioned himself on top of you before kissing your sensitive spot, your eyes closed as your soft hands traveled onto his hair, tugging at his dirty blonde strands.

“got you in my mind the whole day, damn near made Dutch real name slip in front of them Grays. Jus’ couldn’t help but think ‘bout your pretty face.” he continued to kiss your sensitive skin, his words and his lips working like magic on you. His hands exploring your body inch by inch toying with the buttons of your white shirt.

As you open your eyes to look at Arthur you couldn’t help but remember the envelope sitting on his bedside table.

“Arthur,” you sighed trying to keep your voice stable but failing miserably as his teeth playfully bit your neck. The pleasure and the warmth of his body on top of yours was heavenly making you melt like butter under his touch but you were too curious to see what was in that letter to continue, your hands came on his shoulders to try and get the man off of you. “darling you, fuck, you’ve got a letter.”

As soon as you finished your sentence Arthur stopped his actions at once, his hands dropping on the soft mattress before getting up into a seated position beside you. He sighed as he ran his hands into his hair before taking the letter, his eyes quickly scanning the sender’s name before opening the envelope.

As his eyes read the elegant handwritten letter of Mary you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat out of your chest with anticipation, you knew it was stupid to feel this way but you couldn’t help but worry. Why is she mailing him after all these years of radio silence ? What did she want from him and how exactly did she know how to contact him ?

Deciding it was best to feign ignorance than to straight up get defensive and be viewed as possessive with Arthur you scooted closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder as you asked, trying your best to keep your façade, from who was the letter.

“Mh, nobody jus’ a sorry fellow I met.”

Your heart sank.

He lied to you. He lied to you without even an ounce of hesitation. A small ‘Oh’ left your lips as you didn’t know exactly how to respond, mind racing with many thoughts, the knowledge of his lie felt like an iced bucket of water was thrown at you, freezing you in your spot unable to move. A sense of nausea overtaking your body.

With a swift movement, he folded the letter and put it in the bottom drawer of the nightstand where other papers filled the small space. Turning back to face you he put one of his large hands on your cheeks caressing you with a delicacy that in that moment only made you further nauseous about the situation. His lips met your forehead, then your nose descending further down to your lips, too caught up in your thoughts you sat there unmoving. Arthur sensed your unusual attitude.

“y’alright sweetheart ?” he asked, you internally scoffed at his seemingly concerned expression. The nerve he had to be asking you that after he blatantly lied to your face.

“yeah just tired that’s all.” you dismissed him shifting on the bed and laying down on your side of the bed. You needed space to think, your mind going haywire. Was this the first time she mailed him ? Why was that as soon as you mentioned a letter he seemed to already know it was from her ? Why did Mary Beth act so strange when giving you the letter ? Why did he lie ? Why.

You wished you could let this go, forget about everything and melt back into his warm embrace, but you couldn’t. You had to find out what was going on.

Later that night when the outlaw was fast asleep beside you and the only sounds that could be heard were his soft snores that filled the space in your tent you found out that the other papers in the drawer were not random papers.

The drawer was full of Mary’s letters.

[leth-writes]

I'm so happy to see someone writing for twilight it really doesn't get the love it deserves.

This is weirdly specific, so bear with me.

Can I request Paul (twilight) x reader who's Jacob's ex-girlfriend, and they had like a really messy brake up so they REALLY don't like each other and so Paul and jacob get onto a fight about it.

Thanks for your time I've really been enjoying reading your work❤️❤️❤️

hello, lovely anon!

Usually I do shorter pieces for requests, but I kinda blacked out and wrote 2000 words for this... Sorry?

Please enjoy!

It was quiet, without Jacob. The two of you had been dating for over a year, before suddenly all he could think of was Bella, Bella, Bella. She was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. You didn’t mind the two of them being friends, you weren’t jealous and you didn’t believe the rumors spreading at school, but you still wanted to SEE him! You loved him, for god’s sake! But no, Bella was sad or Bella was tired or Bella wanted to go exploring and suddenly, he had no time for you. 

It had been weeks since you’d last truly spoken beyond a quick 20 minute phone call every time you tried to hang out. In fact, you decided, today was the last day. It was the last day you would grovel and beg for his attention. This was it; if he didn’t agree today, you were done. He could go date Bella for all you cared.

You stomped down the stairs, your socked feet hitting against the soft white carpet, and skidded into the tiled kitchen. The grey light streamed in, illuminating the phone like a halo. It was fitting for something that would determine the fate of your relationship.

Angry, yet hopeful, you strode forward and picked up the phone, resolutely dialing Jacob’s number and waiting as it rang.

Finally, someone picked up. “Hello?” Jacob called, sounding groggy.

“Hey, Jake! I was thinking, we should spend some time together! It’s been a hard couple of weeks, and I haven’t seen you at all!” You said, anger draining and hope filling your chest, suddenly feeling weak at the knees. God, you’d missed his voice. “Can’t, Bella and I are going to try and build the motorcycles. You know she’s been having a hard time recently, and I think I’m really helping!” He responded, sounding distracted and far from the phone. 

The hope shattered like ice, cutting up your insides. “Jake, we haven’t hung out in 3 weeks. I could really use my boyfriend today,”. Even to your own ears, your voice was pleading. It sounded weak and brittle, like you were fragile, not the strong front you’d tried to put on for him.

He sighed, voice crackly through the receiver. “Listen, you know Bella hasn’t been doing so well, and I’m the only thing that makes her feel better. You can’t expect me not to go out with her, just because you’re feeling a bit lonely…” His voice was exasperated and distant, like he was already done with the conversation.

Suddenly, that anger came roaring back, licking up the sides of your chest and burning away at your heart. You felt yourself trembling with rage, with despair, at the way he was talking to you.

“No, you listen, Jacob! I’m done! If you aren’t going to see me, if you’re going to prioritize Bella, then you can go stay with her! I never want to see your stupid, selfish face ever again, you fucking asshole!” You practically shouted, slamming the phone down. You whirled around, nose practically bellowed steam, and stomped to the couch, grabbing a pillow and screaming into it. You’d show him, you’d go out and have fun all by yourself and prove you didn’t need such a shitty boyfriend anyways!

It’d been a month since you last talked to Jacob, and while the breakup hurt, you were glad you’d ended the relationship when you had. Looking back, the thought of hanging on was depressing; you’d reconnected with your friends in the past month, going out practically every day and hanging out anytime it got too rainy to go to La Push. You hadn’t seen Jacob or Bella around, and you could honestly say you were happy to not have to so much as think about them anymore. It wasn’t your business.

It was the perfect day to go La Push, and your friends were already there when you pulled into the parking lot. It was overcast, no real sign of rain, and a gentle, cool breeze was drifting through. The beach was covered in large rocks, not really meant for swimming, but perfect for drinking and just listening to music and gossiping, and that’s exactly what you did. 

Until, of course, they arrived. Jacob had been sure they were a blossoming gang, but you hadn’t been so sure. You’d never really spoken to them but Billy had thought they were good kids, just a bit… odd. Yet, now, seeing them on the beach, you could understand where Jacob would’ve gotten that misconception. Sam and his friends were massive, Sam himself standing at almost 6’6” by the looks of it and the shortest member, the boy with the dimpled chin, cleared 6’0” easily. They were heavily muscled, each wearing cargo shorts and shirtless, and were rough-housing as they walked, bumping into each other and shoving each other as they approached your small group. The loudest of the boys, the one with the intense expression and the loud voice, shoved the smallest and laughed boisterously. Then, he looked over. And he made eye contact with you.

And he stared.

And stared.

Eventually, you grew uncomfortable, shifting uneasily on the small picnic blanket you were sitting on as you looked away, toward Sam. He was pulling the loud boy to the side, harshly whispering as the boy kept eye contact. You leant over to your friend, quietly asking which boy was which. You listened as she pointed them out; the one staring at you was Paul, and he was dangerous. You gulped, once again looking away and out toward the shoreline.

“Hey, mind if we join you guys?” Sam asked, approaching with his group and staring at you. The others also looked exclusively at you, though not as intensely as Paul, as though your answer was the only one that mattered. Shivering, suddenly cold, you nodded and looked down. “Hey, at least they’re hot,”one of the girls in your group muttered, and the tension was broken. You burst into laughter, snorting as you held your sides. At least you weren’t feeling uncomfortable anymore, even if you did feel a little dorky. You glanced up through your lashes and Paul was still staring, though less intensely, a soft gleam in his eyes and a small, genuine smile on his lips.

That was the beginning of your relationship with Paul.

You woke up to loud pounding on your front door. Racing down the stairs, you skidded to a stop in the front hall, making eye contact with Bella. Fucking Bella Swan was at your door at 6 in the morning, pounding furiously and looking like death warmed over. You sighed, resigned to not getting to sleep in on a Saturday, and opened the door slowly.

“There’s something wrong with Jacob!” Bella exclaimed. She looked haggard, eyes ringed with deep purple bags and pale skin looking almost translucent. Her hair was ragged and greasy, hanging limply around her wan face, clothes baggy and dirty. She looked like shit. Maybe Jacob broke up with her?

“Okay, and why does that involve me?” You said, leaning against the door jamb and staring off into the distance, squinting at the pale morning light.

“You’re his girlfriend, he’s bound to listen to you!” She cried, thin clammy hand clutching at your wrist as she tried to tug you toward her red rustbucket of a truck.

You remained unmoved, now glaring at her. “No, Bella, I’m not his girlfriend, we haven’t been together for over a month, and I haven’t seen him in over a month and a half. He spent all his time with you; why would he listen to me now?”

She paused, hearing the hurt hidden in your voice and glancing up into your eyes for the first time all morning.

“Wait… you broke up? But Jacob loves you!” She said, voice weaker than before, almost a whisper.

“Yeah, well, he cared about you more. But, I guess if he’s in trouble, fine. What do you need me to do?”

Jacob’s yard looked exactly the same as you remembered it. That made you feel oddly sad, like you’d subconsciously expected it to reflect Jacob’s sadness at you leaving. Yet, it remained the same, just as it was before you’d ever come into his life. Had you really had such a small impact?

Bella was already out of the truck, running toward Paul and the others as they sauntered toward the house from the tree line. You sprinted to keep up, knowing she was going to say something and futilely trying to prevent it. When you reached them, she had shoved Paul and was accusing the boys of hurting Jacob, whatever that meant. Paul was shaking, literally trembling, as his muscles jumped and leapt under his skin. It looked like his skin was… moving as he puffed in effort. “Paul?” you tentatively approached, drawing closer as he leant over, panting as his shoulders jerked. “Shit!” Sam cursed, leaping forward to pull you back and away from Paul. You kicked and struggled as he picked you up, trying to get back to Paul. Couldn’t they see he was sick?!

Suddenly, Paul was gone, and in his place was… a giant wolf. It was like he’d been cut out of the world and replaced. What had happened to Paul?

“Bella!” Jacob shouted, vaulting over the porch fence. His skin seemed to split open, replacing by rapidly growing fur, and his face elongated as his nose broke and became discolored. By the time he hit the ground, he was a wolf. Were you hallucinating? You felt faint, leaning heavily against Sam, who shifted to support your weight and drag you away from the fight. Both wolves were now circling each other, growling and barking, trying to nip at each other's flanks. You felt like you were receding from your body, like you weren’t real. Everything felt far away, and your ears rang. Then, you passed out and went limp.

You jerked awake with a gasp almost as soon as Sam caught your full weight, shifting to lift you up into his arms.

“Paul!” he called, and the wolf who had replaced Paul looked over, eyes wide and sad as he saw your trembling form. Then, the wolf was gone and Paul was standing in its place, quickly pulling on clothes as Embry passed a pair of shorts to him. He cursed lowly and jogged over, grabbing you from Sam’s arms and holding you close. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over, like a prayer.

He sent you down gently, still holding you close to his chest, enveloping you in his soft warmth as his arms wrapped around your shoulders. The world went quiet and all was right, until Jacob interrupted the two of you by shoving Paul.

“Get the fuck away from her, you piece of shit!” He yelled out, punching Paul hard in the nose and causing a spurt of blood to leak out. Paul cursed again and spat out a mouthful of blood, growling lowly. “You don’t get to say that, asshole! You broke her heart, you have no right to tell her what to do!” Paul returned, standing his ground as Embry and Jared tried frantically to stop the fight from continuing. 

“That doesn’t mean you can put her in danger!”

“I didn’t! She didn’t know until your little girlfriend came along and started shit!” Paul bellowed, gesturing at Bella, who was shrinking into herself behind Jake.

“Don’t bring her into this! This is about your shitty control, Paul! Don’t blame Bella for you not being able to handle a little pressure!”

“Stop!” Sam said, getting in between the two. “Jacob, you go blow off some steam. Don’t come back until you’re calm. And Paul…” Sam continued, trailing off as everyone looked at you. “Just… Just explain everything, okay?” He said, sighing and rubbing his forehead to fight away the growing headache.

Paul turned to you, opening his mouth to speak. 

And that was the day you learned about shifters.

[starlightdreaming]

WELCOME TO LULULUNA!! YOUR SECOND HELL OF PAINNN MUAHAHAHA!!,!

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader! Ch. 2!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!

Content Warning: MORE ANGST! (Regret, consequences of actions and swearing and stuff idk)

Synopsis: Lucifer loved you but there was something in the way he couldn’t tell you, someone was always watching.

Further note: I WROTE TWO ANGSTS IN ONE DAY AND I PERSONALLY WANNA CRYINGNMUTFU KING EYES OUT SOMEONE GET ME THERAPYPLAES (not proofread BUT ENJOY!!) - ✨Lolo💫

Chapters!: Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 (you are here) •<•)b ✧ Chapter 3 ✧ Chapter 4 ✧ Chapter 5

(NOW THIS CHAPTERS SONG IS:

to further improve reading, I recommend listening! (It helped me write this too))

｡･:*:･ﾟGoodbye Luna･ﾟ:｡*:･｡

The new job you had been assigned by the higher ups was pretty simple, just make stars, bring them to life, give them the ability to help others like the stars helped you in your depression, repeat!

You smiled down the streets of Halo city, seeing all your stars help others and help the community in general, for once, you felt rather proud of yourself, you were always working but that didn’t bother you at all, it helped you ease your mind as you made the little stars, it was your comfort and now its your job, this was a perfect absolute win - win!

After Emily came along into your life, you decided it was time for a change, she was always so bright and comforting, when you told her you were changing your name as a ‘new person’ she fully supported you! She had made sure to always call you your correct name and made sure others did as well, including her sister Sera.

It was such a new feeling.. to feel that you belong, it was heart warming. You don’t think you would change your life for anything else, seeing as Emily and Sera welcomed you like their own sister and there was nothing better than that.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

Lucifer sighed as he sat next to Lilith, crying, Lilith being there to comfort him as he leaned down onto her chest while she pat his head, “I know it hurts, dearest.” She comforts, “But we both know it was for the best, remember that..” She swoons, kissing his head gently, “It’s been so long, Lilith, I really miss her.” Lucifer whimpers before another tear fell from his face, he remembered the hurt in your eyes and that was taking a toll on his soul, “when the day comes, you can tell her everything about it, alright dear?” Lilith smiles gently, cupping his face to look at her, “I know, Lilith, it just… hurts.” he says before wiping his own tears, “But now that its done, I think it’s time we move to our next step..” Lucifer says as he stands up, taking Lilith’s hand into his own.

“Once we find Eve, give her the apple and my Luna will be free.” He smiles, walking toward the oak tree, seeing as how it was put back together with stars only you knew how to make but still definitely showed as damaged, his smile softened, knowing that this meant that he still had a chance to explain everything to you. He leaned against the tree whispering, “I’m sorry, Luna.” before he walked away with Lilith, hand in hand.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

You hummed to yourself, making stars in your office that was completely covered in stardust, you included.

You flew around your office as the stars floated around you, noting down on your white board on how to improve your stars, it was an everyday routine for you but sometimes… when you look out your office window and see all the Heaven born angels outside, you couldn’t help but miss that special somebody you could never see again, you often sat down in your chair, making silly constellations of Lucifer cause of your longing but remember the words he shouted at you would always make the constellation dissipate or shatter. You sighed before deciding maybe it was time for a break, lunch time it is!

You moved some stars out of the way as you tried to get out of your office, upon exiting your office you had to dust yourself off from all the star dust that glittered your clothes and hair, most would fall off but some would still stick to you, it wasn’t that important to clean yourself since you would be covered in the dust once you came back.

Upon flying around Halo City, a few stars had assisted you on serving your meal, taking your orders and working together as they chimed and squeaked as communication, this proving that your stars were successful to the community in Heaven, “thank you my children.” You smiled as your stars chimed at you, going back to work.

After eating, you decided to head back to work, feeling happy and full from your meal, leaving the little cafe, you flew back to your office, you paid no mind as you walked down the halls until you turned around the corner, “What do you mean I can’t see her? She’s my best friend!” A familiar voice shouted to an employee who was at your office door, You saw Lucifer who had completely disheveled hair and looked like he was in a frenzy, “Please, you don’t understand! I need to see her!” he pleaded again, you stared at them both from shock and surprise, your stomach getting a sinking feeling that maybe you should just run. The employee batted an eye at you before looking back at Lucifer, this made Lucifer to turn to your direction, the split second of eye contact he had made with you made you hide completely in the corner of the hall, ‘shit’ you thought as you started running off to who knows where, “Luna? Luna wait!!” Lucifer shouted to you, the name making you feel sick, you haven’t heard anyone call you that in a long time.

You tried to fly home, lock your doors and stay there for months until Lucifer was completely gone, but he caught up to you before you could even finish the thought, He held onto you dearly and tightly, you struggled in his grasp as he teleported you both to the garden of Eden, it was happening so quickly as you both fell to the ground, crashing, he protected you from the fall when you both imoacted into the grass, tumbling and rolling.

He grunted as he rolled into a tree, giving you the chance to kick away and crawl backwards away from him, your heart beating rapidly from the unexplained situation you were in, “What in the heavens is happening? get away from me!” You shouted, picking yourself up as you dusted yourself, stepping away from Lucifer, trying to brush off the dirt that got on your clothing.

Lucifer tried to recover but he seemed to have been hyperventilating to even care, “Listen, Luna-“ he tried to speak, “Don’t call me that!” you hissed, the name making spite fill your eyes, “You lost that ability to do so.” you say as you crossed your arms looking away in irritation, “Please- just- just listen to me,” Lucifer begged, “And why should I? after everything you did? everything you said??” You asked in a much higher tone, “I don’t have much time! please!” He begged, hugging you close in desperation, the hug was so unexpected to you, it felt sick and insulting, you pushed and punched him off you, “You think you can just touch me like you didn’t fuck up my life?!” You say as you recomposed yourself after pushing him away, tears were in his eyes, “I’m in so much trouble! you don’t understand!” he shouted, his voice cracking but that only made you more pissed, you couldn’t help but laugh as you started connecting that dots, “Oh I get it,” You say more irritated when you realized the situation, “You’re in trouble and since Lilith can’t help you, you’re asking ME for help? tch, please.” you rolled your eyes, turning away and waving him off, “That’s- That’s not it!” He cries, trying to hold you, “Luna, you have to listen! I gave an apple to Eve so she could have free will! and since she broke free from control, that means that-“ He tries to explain quickly but the Seraphim’s had arrived to your location, “Lucifer! You are to be silent!” A loud voice echoed, his eyes widening in fear, you turning to see Sera and other angels you weren’t aware of.

Lucifer looked up at the seraphim’s, down to you, then down to the ground with wide eyes full of tears, “I’m too late..” He whispers under his breath, only for you to hear, you turned to him confused as angels that looked similar to him began to hold him down, you stepping back in surprise, ‘what the hell did he do?’ you pondered to yourself, “and you, Y/n, what are you doing here?” Sera asks in her angel form, you crossed your arms looking away from Lucifer, “He dragged me here when I was trying to get to my office.” you explained, walking towards Sera and standing by her side as you watched Lucifer get dragged by a few angels, Lucifer looked at you with apologetic eyes but that only made you advert your gaze, not wanting or bothering to defend him like all the times you had done all the years you had been together, just like how he made you suffer alone, he was getting the same treatment now, karma at its finest.

Lucifer didn’t care what was happening to him, he just wanted to see you again, he wanted to look at you again, he wanted you to look at him, he did that all for you…! but at what cost…? you walked away with Sera, not even giving him a second glance. He looked down, wallowing in his guilt, “please come back to me, my Luna.” he whispered under his breath.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

You went back to your office with Sera, you expected to go back to work and do your usual, “You can’t work today, Y/n.” Sera ordered, “What? Why?” You asked in bewilderment, “Since you were with Lucifer before we could find him, you are now a witness.” Sera stated, you were shocked from this, “What do you mean? What did he do..?” You asked a little afraid to know the answer, Sera took a deep breath, feeling tired from how crazy the day seemed to have been for her, “A few days ago, Lucifer gave Adams’ new wife an apple.” Sera explained, “an apple?” you raised a brow, not understanding why an apple made the subject so serious, “Yes, an apple. It was made from the tree of knowledge, it gave her free will, she broke out of our control,” Sera continues as she paces in your office, pushing away stars that got in her way, “And because of that, evil has found it’s way to Earth.” Sera finishes as she looks down upset. You gasped when she finished, “Lucifer brought evil into creation that we spent so much time and effort into making??” You asked in complete shock, no wonder he came to find you, he wanted to use you as a defense to escape trouble, he was so selfish.

“Yes and now you will have to join us in court, since you were the closest to him.” Sera says as you advert your gaze from her, not feeling proud from the amount of years of your life that felt as they had gone to waste with a stranger far in the past.

“When is it?” You asked, “Since it’s urgent, it’s being held now.” Sera says, “Wait what-“ you say but before you could finish, you were teleported into the court room, you blinked twice before processing your surroundings, Lucifer at a table with Lilith, they both looked nervous, seeing the two of them together put you in a sour mood rather quickly.

“Since the Seraphim is here, I suggest this court meeting begins now,” A voice spoke, you look down at the person seeing a tall male that was quite charming, “Greetings everyone, My name is Azreal,” He said calmly and authoritative, “I am here today for the incident of evil breaching the creations of Earth, caused by; Lucifer Morningstar.” He states out, the public gallery gasping and whispering amongst each other as you looked at Lucifer, you felt worried for him and you hated that, he had betrayed your trust, he turned his back on you and your friendship, so why on Earth are you so worried about him? when Lucifer caught you staring you glared at him before turning away, continuing to listen to Azreal.

“We are gathered here to discuss the punishment Lucifer deserves after destroying the divine creations we had worked hard to make, do we have any ideas?” Azreal asks, waiting for anyone to answer, “Well obviously community service ain’t gonna help.” someone snarked, sarcastically.

“Yeah! all that hard work just for it to go down the drain in a blink of an eye? he deserves the worst of the worst!” A voice shouted angrily, others obliging as well, they began to argue and yell at Lucifer, you, watching as you put up a facade, staring nonchalant at Lucifer and Lilith. Lucifer hid under his hat worriedly as Lilith tried to hold his hand for comfort, you thought for a few moments, thinking about what they deserved.

Sera silenced the court room with a raise of her hand, “he should pay…” you mumbled quietly, only for Sera to catch on, “What was that, Y/n?” Sera asked, leaning down closer to you, “He should pay.. by living in his own mistake.” You say, confusing the higher elder.

when you broke that oak tree, it was the worst mistake of your life, all those memories were shattered into pieces and you tried.. so hard to put it back together, it did in the end but it barely stayed, despite that, you drowned yourself in guilt and sorrow, pain and sadness for months and you think, thats the perfect thing he should suffer from too.

“He should live in his mistake, create a realm of evil that he can drown in, it’s what…” you hesitate, hugging yourself to finish your sentence, “he deserves.” you finish, looking down at him and Lilith, you felt sadness and guilt, hatred and disgust all at the same time, you didn’t know how to react, this whole mess was beginning to give you a headache, he tried to use you to protect himself in all this mess and yet, all you wanted to do was cry and tell the court to forgive him! forgive and forget, but you were so full of hurt you couldn’t do either.

“don’t credit me for the idea, Sera,” you began to feel the tears escape, “please.” you pleaded silently. Sera understood and pat your head gently, “If you could listen, I have an option.” Sera calls, the court listening as you hid from everyone’s view, “We can make Lucifer face the consequences of his actions by making him drown in his own mistakes,” Sera says, trying to go off by your words, “we can create a realm of evil, so only it stays far away from the grasps of Heaven, Lucifer can be sent to the realm, to face the actions he had committed.” She finishes, Lucifer and Lilith’s mouths a gap, looking at Sera in disbelief, the court room began to murmur and whisper amongst themselves in a more calm manner, “That sounds like a fantastic idea!” Azreal smiled, “Very well then, all those in favor, raise your hand,” he says, raising his own as 99.9% of the court raised their hands into the favor, Lucifer looked around, fear rising in him but the sliver of hope was withheld when he saw you staring at him with dull, lifeless sad eyes, he looked at you pleading for help, but in this situation, you can’t.

“Miss Y/n.” Azreal called, “Is there a reason you aren’t raising your hand?” He smiles at you charmingly, you still stared at Lucifer before turning away from his gaze, slowly raising your hand… The small chance of hope burnt out when he saw your arm raised, the pain in his eyes showed, “Luna, please! you have to understand!-“ He begged, trying to go for a last ditch effort. When he called you by that name you glared at him, infuriated that he was desperately trying to get you back only when he needed you most, you leaned over the balcony, tired of his whining and crying for you, of all times he could have asked for forgiveness, he chose the time when he was in deep shit of trouble, “What. in GODS NAME do you want from me?” you sweared beyond the swearing of swears in front of the court, making everyone gasp but you didn’t care.

You flew down to the table he sat at, Azreal moving to the side, interested in the things about to unfold, “Of all the times you could have came to me, to ask for our friendship back, you choose the time you desperately needed to use me,” You snarled, “I’m sick of your shit Lucifer, you never needed me and you made that VERY CLEAR, the moment you told me to step out of your life AND I DID.” you said poking his chest, your angelic form appearing.

“You deserve this and we. both. know. it.” you finished as he looked at you with guilt in his eyes, hurt and regret, “I didn’t ask for things to turn out like this,” He said weakly, you stepped back from him to give him space, “I love you, My Luna.” He confesses in complete heartbreak, his hand to his chest as he cries, Lilith watching as she comforts him, your eyes widen from his statement as the court gasps, “What the fuck are you saying? you love Lilith!” you shouted at him in full confidence, “See? you don’t understand,” He cries, you were puzzled and insulted from his confessions, it put your mind into a frenzy, “Lilith and I were secretive because-“ “I don’t want to hear your sorry, pathetic, excuses!” You shouted at him, your chest huffing from the stress he keeps pressuring you into, “My name is NOT Luna, YOU never loved me, you chose Lilith over me, you chose EVERYTHING ABOUT Lilith over me! you love me? what a fucking joke!” you barked, Lucifer sitting down in his own chair, “I’m going to say it since you can’t seem to understand, if you want me out of your life,” you say pointing to yourself, walking to him, “then I don’t want YOU in my life.” you finish pointing to him, hatred in your eyes as he looked at you with tears falling.

it was silent in the court room, no one dared to speak up from the tension, until Lucifer swallowed before saying one simple word that forever decided what would happen between both you, Lilith and Lucifer, “Please…” he begged one last time, you squint your eyes, understanding that no matter what you say, it will never get through to his head, so you decided to be the final push of this pure broken relationship.

“Azreal, send them away.” You ordered, turning away from them both, standing behind Azreal as he walked up to them, “Guess it’s done and over then, you heard the seraphim.” Azreal smiles, Lucifers eyes widening, “Luna, Luna! please!” Lucifer begged but you ignored his calling as Azreal opened a portal.

Lilith and Lucifer held onto each other as angels forced them to go into the portal, angelic spears making them walk into their own fate, “Going down?” Azreal joked as he made Lucifer trip backwards, falling into the portal with Lilith at his side, his wings holding her up as he held onto the edge of the portal, left hanging with Lilith in his arm. Azreal smiled and waved before standing back.

“Lilith hold on, okay?” He says, looking down at her as she held onto him with his other hand. When he looked back up, his eyes widen when you appear above him, your demeanor was just pure sadness, lifeless and dull and finally for once in years, he sees a smile crack on your face, one of just pure neglect and hurt, he couldn’t look away, although he did this all for you, you would never understand why, this was not the smile he wanted to see on your face, this isn’t what he wanted or what he was trying to do for you, he wanted you to be free… and now that you are, he couldn’t share it with you…

You held his hand gently, slowly sliding it off the edge, taking it into your own, he looked at you desperately, “Just let go, Luci,” you said with a soft voice and a lifeless smile, as you slowly slid his hand off your own, loosening your grip, “Just let me go, Lucifer.” you begged, the tears falling from your eyes and onto his face made him cry as well, “Please.” You say as you let go of him, he only stared at you as he hugged Lilith, protecting her from the long fall he was going to have to endure, despite falling, his hand reached out to you still, his Luna, disappearing before his very eyes…

that’s when he realized…

he will never get the chance to give you a proper goodbye, a proper explanation… a proper confession.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

(sorry if anything is confusing, my brain likes to confuzzle itself so ask me any questions!!!3$3$)

TAGLIST WWEOOEOO:

@ag-cookiebat800 @meow-meowo @kyo-kyo1

[diorgirl444]

From one matt dilly girl to another...🤨

cowboy!dallas how do we feel

Like full on texan accent omggg- 🤭🤭

you get it oh my godddddd. maybe bcs i’m english but this is so mouthwatering to me i can’t even lie to you!!! so much that i’ve written a few cutesy lil hcs for it xxx

cowboy! dallas winston x farmer’s daughter! reader

warnings: bad writing! (girlies i’ve never kissed anyone or flirted so my expression only comes from writing fanfiction so it may not be the most realistic i’m afraid), fem! reader, very self indulgent, unspecified time period. poor understanding of american history i’m english please go easy on me, idk how many words <3

• okay so i see your cowboy! dallas winston and i raise you runaway outlaw! dallas winston posing as a farmhand on reader’s family farm

• i’m thinking he’s an outlaw because after getting in a fight with his alcoholic father he ran away with their horse and in order to survive he stole from carriages and things. a regular billy the kid you know?

• except it’s not easy for a seventeen year old out on his lonesome on all that land and with the law looking for you. but he has no choice so he keeps running till he reaches a farm far, far out west. that night he is so, so tired that he hides in their barn planning to wake up early so he doesn’t get caught.

• but he hasn’t been able to sleep properly in days so he fully crashes. he wakes up that morning with a girl leaning over him pressing her cool hand to his forehead, the sunlight from the open barn makes her hair like a halo and she’s in a beautiful white nightdress and so he briefly wonders if he’s died and she’s one of heavens angels.

• the allusion shatters when she’s realised he’s woken and she calls “daddy he’s alive!” and then his eyes widen and he realises there’s a whole family crowded around him. he excepts to be shouted, to be threatened maybe even hit but instead the wrinkled old man who he assumes is the father of the house says in a gruff but not unkind voice “you got a place to stay son?”

• dallas is vaguely aware that he doesn’t know these people that they could report him to their nearest sheriff or worse eat him or something gruesome like that. but something about the apple cheeked girl, the twin little boys in mismatched plaid and the kind eyes in the wrinkled faces of the parents has him feeling at ease and so he admits “no sir”

• the mother nudges her husband who nods before speaking “well sonny you’re in luck. i’m in need of a farmhand. can’t pay ya but i can offer ya food and board for you and that horse of yours. does that sound like a deal boy?” dallas nods, hardly believing his luck.

• the girl smiles widely and softly whispers to him “i told daddy we should keep you” he decides not to tell her that she could keep him forever if she wanted. maybe it’s a bit early for that yet.

• he falls into a routine pretty quickly at the farm. he does all the hard labour that the father of the house is too old to do now like cutting firewood or rounding the cattle up. he always catches sight of the girl picking fresh fruit and prancing around the farm in her cute little cowboy boots and his heart aches.

• what he doesn’t know is the parents have noticed the way him and their daughter look at each other or ankles press together under the table so they’re always trying little things to get them together. like sending her out to give him glasses of sweet iced tea or getting him to ride their horses with her.

• it finally happens though late one hot august evening. the farm is lazy for a change with most people napping trying to beat the heat. she’s eating cherries and staining lips and hands on the porch swing whilst intently a very sweaty shirtless dallas work on the farm.

• he catches her looking and grins saying “you know what they say about cherry stems?” she shakes her head, batting her lashes at him absentmindedly and he seems to grin even wider.

• “well if you can tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue. means you’re a good kisser” his honeyed southern tone drawls out.

• almost in a trance she hands him a cherry stem and flushes bright red when he cockily sticks his tongue out flashing the knotted up cherry stem. “my turn” she tells him trying to distract herself from the growing butterflies in her stomach.

• “nah doll i got another way to check for you” before she can ask what is, he’s leaning over the porch railings and kissing her. she eagerly kissed him back letting her cherry stained fingers grab onto his hair and he’s groaning slightly against his lips. they probably would of gone further has it not been for the cough behind them.

• they awkwardly pull away, her with red cheeks and dallas with red ears and they meet her fathers gaze “happy to see you two finally pulled it together but if you’re gonna act like dogs in heat do that where the lord can’t see you, hm kids?” he gives them a knowing smile as he walks off.

• and well they listen to him and disappear off the barn hand in hand just as they one day will leave the local chapel dressed in white….

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura Pt 11

Summary: Returning to the Mountain brings up a lot of feelings and Reader tries and fails to keep them all bottled up.

Content Warnings: SMUT (I told you it would come eventually ;) ), a lot of dirty talk, suggestiveness, a little light bondage if you squint, as well as alcohol consumption and drug use.

Author's Note: I apparently have a lot of feelings about sitting in Rhys's lap, 'cause I wrote this Vamp!Rhys fic and this in the same week. I was gonna end it on an angsty note, but the miscommunication trope makes me want to rip my hair out, so I made it fluffy instead (they're adults they can TALK TO EACH OTHER like adults). Anyway, hope ya'll enjoy! As always, let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List, and thank you to everyone who likes, comments and reblogs, ya'll make me want to keep writing <3

Previous chapter/ Master list

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The music is a heavy pulse in your skull, drowning out all thought as the lights flash and flare overhead like dozens of fireworks in time to the beat. Your hips sway, flimsy excuse of a dress clinging to your thighs as you twirl and spin in time to the beat. Dozens of hands pass you a long, keep you spinning and spinning until the lights glitter like stars overhead. You throw your head back and laugh at the way they glitter and stretch along your quickly blurring vision.

Someone passes you another cup and you tip the contents back in one gulp, savoring the burn, relishing in the way it fills your empty stomach. You’ve lost count of how many glasses you’ve had, lost count of where the empty ones go as you move along with the crowd, let the press of bodies move you like an ebbing tide.

A cigarette gets passed your way, the violet smoke filtering in hazy rings around people’s heads like halos. Do you smoke? You can’t remember. Can’t think about why you should care at all as you bring it to your lips and inhale deeply, letting the mirthroot take hold.

This is the most fun you’ve had in weeks, it’s the first time you allow yourself complete unbridled freedom. There is nothing to worry about here but following the music and the flow of drink as the mirthroot makes your body loose and limber.

Strong hands settle on your hips as you take another drag, eyes closed, savoring the burn. You sway your hips under the grip, pushing your body back into the firm planes of the male behind you. You don’t have the presence of mind to be mortified, to think about the way you’re grinding on a stranger in the middle of this crowd of people. 

Warm breath frames your neck, skittering over the golden collar still encircling your throat. “I think you’ve had enough, Darling.”

Mate. Mate. Mate. The words dance around the bargain mark on your ribs, heat flaring in your chest that has nothing to do with the fae wine or the mirthroot and everything to do with the fact that when you’d been dragged back into your cell, it had been empty. Empty and had smelled like her. And you’d thrown yourself against the battered door, claws slashing across the worn iron until they shattered from your fingertips, until you splattered blood across the unyielding iron, dark mist filling the cell until it nearly sucked the air from the room. You don’t know how or why the door held, why your nails couldn’t cut through the strange marks etched into the door; the only thing that was clear is that in retaliation for leaving, your fault or not, she’d taken Rhys and had left you alone in the dark. Days passed without word, without food, until the guards had come and thrown you into a room with the order to bathe and change and be ready in an hour and you complied only with the intent to go right into the Throne Room to rip her throat out with your teeth. But Rhys hadn’t been at her side when you arrived either, hadn’t been a face in the crowd as Amarantha declared to the court that you had slain the twins sent from Hybern for attacking their Queen. The crowd that days ago had been laughing at your plight as you’d been made to kneel on the floor like an animal was now cheering you on like a hero. Fickle and spineless; Amarantha said jump and they asked how high without question or reason. She’d left you to their whims after that and the wine had started flowing and you’d needed to calm the panic and rage swelling like a storm beneath your skin and had reached for one. One had somehow turned into two and then three and you’d lost count after that, lost yourself in the blissful emptiness and tried to forget how powerless you really were in all of this.

You turn in his arms and though he remains standing where he is, there’s suddenly six of him spinning in dizzying circles and you have to grip onto his shoulders to keep yourself on your feet.

“Easy,” he says, his grip on your hips firm.

You’ve forgotten just how big he is compared to you, how much of you he can fit in his hands. You're too far gone to stop yourself from wondering how those hands would feel beneath your dress, on your thighs, spreading you open…

“Easy,” he says again, nostrils flaring like he scents the effect he has on you like this.

Your hands feel like they're drifting through soup as you reach out to brush your hand through his hair. He’s clean too, skin healed, the clothes new and finely pressed. There is no lingering scent of incense, though you’re pretty sure the mirthroot you smell is on your skin and not his, he remains wholly jasmine and citrus. Nothing of her on him.

“You’re ok?” The words slur out of you, sound muffled and distant even as they come out your mouth. You need him to tell you he’s ok, that she didn’t hurt him, that he got called away for something, anything. He does other things for her, he brought in Tamlin all those weeks ago, he has other roles, but you don’t know how to make the words come out against the fog that rolls through your head. “You’re ok?”

“I’m ok,” he says with a nod. “Let’s get you some water.”

You shake your head. Water is somewhere near the tables and lounge chairs in the corner, somewhere she might be lurking, waiting for you to slip up, waiting for her chance to steal him again and you can’t have that. “Want to dance.” Want to dance and drink and forget; want to smoke and move and let the music erase everything that is happening around you so that the only thing that matters is the two of you. It’s an added bonus that if he dances with you then that means he keeps his hands on you, has an excuse to keep touching you. Gods you want more of that!

“Water first,” he says, giving you a little nudge backwards.

The move makes the world spin again and you giggle as you let yourself fall into it. 

“Wow, you’re really drunk,” he says as he hauls you against his chest and half carries half drags you through the crowd.

“You’re strong,” you giggle. You can feel the muscles in his arms and chest tighten as he moves you around, his fingertips digging deliciously in your hips. 

It’s by sheer force of Rhys’s will that you end up in a chair with a glass of water, that you take a single sip of and make a face. “Gross. Want more wine.”

A servant automatically appears with a glass beside you, but before you can grab it, or spill it given the way your limbs flop around, he snatches it off the tray. “Water first.”

You stick out your lower lip. “Why are you being so mean to me?”

He takes a drink out of the cup and suddenly the most exciting thing in the world is watching how his throat works when he swallows and the way the wine stains his lips. “‘Cause it’s fun,” he retorts.

You manage to get another sip of water down before you accidentally catch the glass on the edge of the table and spill it everywhere. “Fuck me,” you say dejectedly. In your state your first thought is to use your skirts to try and dry up the mess, but there’s not enough of them, the sheer fabric barely covering the tops of your thighs. 

“You have impeccable manners,” he says as he reaches for your hands to stop you from flashing the whole room as you try and wiggle the dress up enough to use it as a napkin. With a snap of his fingers the mess cleans itself. 

“Ooooohhh neat,” you run a finger over the dry table. “Can you teach me to do that?”

You’re too drunk to notice your mistake, but he says, “If you had any powers left, sure,” a little louder than necessary to cover you.

“Right,” you slur as you try to stand on shaky legs. “Well water was good, we dance now.”

He remains a firm wall between you and the dance floor. “Unless you can absorb water through your skin, you didn’t actually drink anything.”

“Had a sip.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Meanie,” you hiss.

“You’re very cute when you’re drunk,” he teases and the grin he gives you makes you want to stretch up on your toes and kiss him right there. 

“You’re very kissable when you smile,” you return.

Rhys huffs a laugh and you think you might do just about anything to get him to laugh again. 

“I’m always very kissable,” he retorts. “It’s part of my charm.”

“So make part of your charm dancing with me,” you press.

He grabs your hand like he might do just that, but instead, spins around you to claim an empty couch and pulls you down to sit in his lap so fast the world flips and twirls in a blur of pulsing colors that makes you squeeze your eyes shut. The wine rises up in your throat, threatening to come back out in a rush and you curl into his chest trying to find a way to make it stop.

“I think this is better.”

You squeeze your temples with your palms. “Make my brain stop spinning,” you whine. Maybe he’s right, maybe dancing is a bad idea. 

Besides, he’s still touching you like this. More than touching actually. You’re situated in his lap, knees bracketing his hips, chest to chest, no collar around his throat to stop you if you wanted to put your lips to his neck. There’s not even a scar or bruise to indicate that it had been there, nothing but smooth, bronze skin and the teasing peak of his tattoos beneath his collar.

You brace yourself against his shoulders as the world stops spinning, suddenly very aware of how high your skirt is riding up and how strong the muscles in his thighs are between your legs.

He brings his hands to hold your hips again and you thank the Mother that you’re not so drunk that you’ve lost your inhibitions completely because the only thought in your head right now is how it would feel to grind yourself down on him.

“You’re very drunk,” he says lowly, his own gaze locked on the space between your bodies like he’s drinking in the way your thighs look around him.

“So?”

“So it would be wrong,” he retorts.

“What?” You move your hands to the back of the couch behind him, chest brushing his. There’s barely any straps to your top, the neckline a deep v that leaves your cleavage on display and you don’t miss the way his gaze tracks it as you lean in. “What would be wrong?”

He runs his tongue over his lower lip, staring and something stirs deep inside you. Claim. Claim. Claim. He is your mate and you want him to touch you, kiss you, claim you. 

It’s the thought that makes you pause for a brief moment. Does he know your mates? Does he feel this growing need? This incessant longing beating from your rib cage that needs to be touched and held and claimed so deeply you forget what it felt like to be anything else? Is that the bond? Or the wine? 

“Doing all the things I’ve been thinking about since the moment I had my lips on yours,” he says, voice barely a whisper, gaze still transfixed on your body.

You preen under the heat in his gaze, press your chest a little more firmly into his so that you can be nose to nose with him. The wine has certainly made you more brazen. “What kinds of things, Rhys?”

The hands holding your hips tighten, fingertips kneading the soft flesh hard enough to bruise and yet your whole body turns molten at that touch. It’s the delicious line between pain and pleasure, and after days and days of cold emptiness, the heat it sparks through your body is more addictive than any wine or drug you can consume here.

“Want this dress off you for starters,” he murmurs, full lips drifting down to dust over the straps clinging to your shoulders. 

His words conjure an image in your mind of him leaning forward, pulling the straps down with his teeth, baring the full expanse of your body to him. You shiver under the mental image, hips rocking down against him.

“Want to mark every bit of you I can reach, so that no one dares touch you,” he continues, teeth scraping over your shoulder. “So that everyone knows your mine.”

His.  The possession in his tone really does you in, heat building in your lower belly as you grind yourself down against the growing bulge in his pants. The scrape against your core makes your mouth drop open, groan falling from your parted lips. It would be so easy to come undone from this alone.

“Only mine,” he emphasizes, sucking a mark where your neck meets your shoulder, visible beneath that damned collar you can’t take off.

“Rhys,” you whimper, releasing your grip on the back of the couch to drag your hands through his dark hair. “Please.”

His lips move along your throat, teeth scraping your skin before sucking another mark into your sensitive flesh. He’s taking his time, just as he promised all those weeks ago on Calanmai. “Want to know what little noises you’d make for me, how you’d fall apart in my hands…”

You drag your hand from his hair, reaching for the straps of your dress to pull them down for him, hoping to spur him further into action, but he finally releases his grip on your hips to stop you. 

“None of that, Darling,” he tuts. “It comes off when I say it does.”

To that point, when you try to rock your hips against him again, it's his glittering, obsidian power that pins you in place, a slither of darkness twining around your hips to hold you there, utterly at his mercy.

He chuckles when you whimper and pout, lower lip sticking out, tears welling up in your eyes, because it’s not fair that he’s this close, that he’s just a hair breadth away from where you need him most and he knows it. He can smell it on you, see it on every line in your face, and yet he won’t move to help you.

“Please, Rhys, please,” you beg. The need for him is unbearable, your whole body burning like it’s on fire, the only relief is the contact with his body. Your mate so close to where you need him most.

“Hogging the woman of the hour, are we?” 

You hadn’t heard any approaching footsteps over the pounding of the base against the rock, the sudden appearance making you flinch as Rhys throws a warning snarl over your shoulder. It only makes the red headed male approaching chuckle as he comes to stand directly behind you. The cedar and cinnamon smell of him reminds you of curling up under a warm wool blanket next to a fireplace with your favorite book about vampires, something you like to do in nice Autumn weather.

Slender fingers drag up your spine, and in your delirious state, it makes you arch your back as you shiver under it.

“Eris,” Rhys purrs, but there’s an edge in his tone as he watches you move under another male’s ministrations. The sliver of his power around your waist tightens, the shadows slipping under your skirts to writhe against your flushed skin. He allows you to jerk forward, hips rocking right into the obvious sign of his own arousal, and your eyes roll back into your head at the contact.

“I can name a dozen males who would kill for a chance to be where you are right now, Rhysand,” Eris returns.

“I don’t share,” Rhys says and cauldron that’s all it takes for you to place your lips against his throat. He hums his approval as you scrape your teeth against his skin, hands threading into your hair as you nip and bite and use your tongue to cool any pain you cause him. 

Eris plops himself down in the seat next to Rhys, long arms thrown over the back of the couch as he makes himself comfortable. 

You can’t bring yourself to care about the audience as you nip at the underside of his jaw. He tilts his head back for you so you can reach more of him unhindered and you sink a little lower down on his lap chasing any friction you can find before the shadows tighten and still your movements again.

“Bastard,” you growl into his throat, but he merely turns his attention to the male next to him. 

“You didn’t respond to my message,” Eris hisses. A glass of wine appears in his hand and he takes a slow drink. To any onlookers he’s merely enjoying the party with the High Lord and his nightly entertainment. 

“What message?” 

“Shit.” This conversation is becoming sobering, despite your best efforts to tune out the other male and focus solely on the pleasure just out of reach. All night long you’d been able to forget.

Eris gives you a sidelong glance that might have made you squirm under the intensity if Rhys hadn’t shifted beneath you to get a better look at the other male, hips brushing up against your center in a move that is definitely intentional. 

“The one I gave her,” Eris snarls.

“This is the first I’ve seen her in days,” Rhys retorts, a hand stroking through your hair. “You know how to get in contact with me.”

Eris glances around at the dancers that move past for refreshments as he takes another drink. Only when they’re gone does he say, “So you didn’t tell her to kill the twins?”

You stop moving; stop thinking about Rhys’s body as the image of Dagdan and Brannagh’s mangled bodies flash across your mind. You’re suddenly a lot more sober than you had been moment ago.

Rhys brushes a mental hand against your mind and you flinch, head still tender from the beating it had taken trying to keep your cousins out. “Darling?”

The concern in his tone makes shame burn its way through your lungs. At the littlest thing he’s dropping everything to make sure you’re ok, and yet here you are, with no idea where he’s been or what he’s been through and you’re grinding in his lap like a horny teenager. What kind of mate are you?

“No I didn’t,” Rhys says to Eris, even as he makes another tender stroke against your mind, asking to be let in. “But I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“Do you think we can use it to our advantage?” Eris asks.

You don’t deserve how gentle he is with you, but you can’t stop yourself from lowering your shields just enough to let him in. He should know just how much of a monster you’re capable of being before he gets too close. 

“Will you show me?” He asks and you open the doorway into the memory, keeping the conversation you’d had with Tamlin about him, the realization of what he is to you, out of reach. He deserves better than that.

Rhys strokes his hands in your hair as he watches the memory unfold, your body shaking in his grip as all that blood and gore comes into view. When it’s over, he closes the door in your mind and clicks the lock into place for you. “It’s over. You’re safe. You did what you had to do to survive, there is no shame in that.”

You press your face into his shoulder to hide the tears brimming in your eyes. You’re an ugly crier when you’re tipsy and you know if you start, you won’t stop.

“I think it’ll bring Hybern here quicker,” Rhys says to Eris, as he drags the fingers in your hair down to trace your spine. To an onlooker, he’s still playing with you, only the two of you know how often he’s traced these shapes into your skin when you wake up screaming in the dungeons. “Which can be played to our advantage if we’re careful.”

Eris takes another sip of wine, mulling it over.

“If Hybern can be convinced that our queen is acting out of her own agenda instead of his, he may just do our work for us.”

“A dangerous game,” Eris frowns.

“It always is,” Rhys returns.

It’s astounding how calm and level headed he can remain, always centered, even while everyone else rages and panics around him. How are you supposed to be his equal? To his calm there is only your spinning thoughts and unchecked temper. Everything makes you want to claw and rage and smash things; aren’t mates supposed to balance each other out? What do you bring him other than another mess to sort through?

“Well if you’re not going to share her, I’ll leave you to it,” Eris says as he downs his cup and stands, making a show of stretching, tight shirt rising up to expose the toned line of his abs to a passing cluster of male and female dancers.

Rhys chuckles at that, sliding a little lower into the couch, as he says, “She’s all mine.”

Is this all the conversation they can have? A few passing whispers? A few half-veiled hopes at a plan? Fifty years of juggling court masks and gathering allies and pushing pieces into place in the shadows while everyone else parties around them? It’s such a contrast to the world you’re used to that you can’t help but feel small inside it. 

It’s only when he’s gone that Rhys asks, “Are you ok?”

“I thought being drunk was supposed to make me feel less depressed,” you grumble into his shirt because he’s pleasantly warm and you can’t bring your body to move from where you’re pressed into his chest.

“I think you passed over the threshold for that a couple drinks ago,” he replies.

“Take me back to the blissful void,” you whine.

“Well enough people have seen you here with me, I think we can slip away and get you into bed without causing a scene now.”

He’d pulled you over here on purpose, removing the shield of the crowd so people would see you with him, see you cutting loose, and when you disappeared they’d think he’d taken you to bed and not wonder if there was anything more to it, because his reputation was enough. That mask was so encompassing it could shield you too.

Rhys winnows you away and you can’t tell what end is up anymore, not until he sets you square in the center of a bed with black silk sheets. His room, as dust covered and bare as it had been the last time.

You groan as you fall back into the pillows, all the wine threatening to come up again as you try to keep yourself upright. This position allows you to feel just how wet you are between your legs, making you stop squeezing your eyes shut to look at the damp spot you’d left on Rhys’s pants. Not that he seems to notice as he peels off his jacket and starts unbuttoning his shirt, getting comfortable for the night, even as shame makes your cheeks turn bright red. What is wrong with you?

“You need a bucket over there?” He asks.

You need to drink until you can forget what you’ve been doing all night. How are you supposed to look at him now?

You hear the clink of his belt coming off before he climbs into the bed next to you and you force yourself not to open your eyes and look at what he’s wearing to bed, because you’ve made a fool of yourself enough for one night.

“That last drink was a mistake,” you lie, because what else are you supposed to say?

His body is warm as he lays down beside you. “You played your part well,” Rhys encourages. “No one will think twice about where you’ve gone.”

You’re an idiot, but you’re not quite sober enough to think better of it as you ask, “Is that all this is? A game?”

Rhys uses a bit of his power to snuff the candles out, bathing the room in utter darkness. “It’s necessary-”

You roll onto your side, finally daring to look at him, as best you can in the dark anyway. “But is that all you want it to be?” You press. 

He’d been laying with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, but at your words he rolls over too, so you’re once again nose to nose, practically sharing a breath.

“Wanting anything is dangerous, Y/N.”

“So all that you said earlier, about wanting me, that was just for show? This is just a mask?”

“It keeps you safe,” he says so low it's almost a growl.

“But it’s not what you want?”

“I can’t…” he shakes his head. “I can’t. The things I love have a tendency to be taken from me, I cannot want anything other than to get out of here.”

Your eyes sting and you’re glad for the dark, glad that it hides the tears welling up in your eyes. “I can play this part, if that’s what we need to fulfill this bargain,” it’s a concentrated effort to keep your voice steady, but you mean it. If this is all it will be, then you will have to find a way to live with it, because at least your mate will be alive. And maybe, if Amarantha sees anything like what you two had been doing tonight, then maybe she’d direct that anger at you instead of him. You could find a way to use it to protect him, the same way he’d used it for you.

He’s your mate, whatever you have to do to make sure he survives, you’ll do it. Even if it tears you apart inside.

“But please, just tell me that it’s not real, that you don’t really want me, so that I can prepare, so that I don’t overstep. The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable.”

His pause feels like it spans an hour, the silence ticking away like a clock in the darkness. “I…”

You stamp down the hope flaring in your chest, it’ll be easier to deal with if he is up front that he doesn’t see you as anything but a means to an end. “What do you want, Rhys?”

He growls, the sound skittering across your bones as he throws an arm around your waist and crashes his lips against yours. “You,” he says into your mind. “I want you in any way you’ll have me.”

The ink on your chest warms, feels strangely like it’s glowing beneath your skin as the solid weight of him settles on top of you, pushing you into the mattress. You're a tangle of limbs and teeth, as he kisses you like it might be his only chance to.

You drag your hands down the sharp contours of his spine, memorizing the feel of him beneath your fingertips as his tongue slides behind your teeth to taste you. This is far better than any drug, no amount of mirthroot could ever make you feel this high.

“You’re ok with this?” He pants into your lips, finally coming up for air.

“More than ok,” you confirm and that’s all it takes for him to start sliding the straps off your dress, pulling the tight fitting bodice slowly from your body. The chill in the air is only a momentary discomfort before his hands and lips chase it away as he follows the fabric down your body.

Thank the Mother for the privacy of the room, that you hadn’t managed to get your top off like you’d tried to do in the throne room, because the noise you let out when he gets his mouth around your nipple is embarrassingly loud, whole body flushed crimson. You clamp your hand over your mouth when he does the same move on your other breast, or at least you try to, that slithering ether of power snags your wrist and pins it above your head before you can cut off the noise.

“None of that,” he hums into your skin, teeth scraping your skin. “Want to hear you.”

Cauldron he’ll be the death of you! 

It’s his power that whisks the glamor away from the bargain mark so he can run his lips over the ink, tracing the flower petals and vines. “We should make more bargains, you look so pretty with all this ink.”

You huff a laugh as you scrape your nails through his hair, making a mess of it. “What kinds of bargains?”

He kisses lower, pulling the dress down towards your hips, following it again. “That you’ll let me taste you like this once a day for the rest of eternity,” he suggests as he lifts your hips to get the dress lower.

“I’m not wasting a bargain on that,” you huff, though you’re embarrassed to admit the way the suggestion makes heat pool in your core.

“You’re right, twice a day is more practical,” he says as he slips both the dress and your underthings off in one fell swoop. Strong arms wrap around your hips as he settles himself between your legs and you barely have time to draw a shaky breath before he’s running his tongue up your center.

“I-” all thought and argument eddies from your mind as your body arches under his ministrations. 

“More than that, perhaps?” He teases, adding a finger to the mix, even as his tongue swirls through your quickly budding arousal.

Your hand in his hair tightens, pulling his hair as you try and guide him deeper. “Rhys,” you whimper. He feels so good; so perfect. Nothing else would ever compare; he’s barely touched you and you’re fully ready to come apart already.

He adds a second finger, stretching you out as his tongue flicks over your clit, the combination making your head spin. You screw your eyes shut as your body tightens, muscles taut as a bow string as your pleasure builds too fast to prepare for. He might still be talking nonsense about bargains but you genuinely can’t hear a word he says against the white noise tearing through your head.

Mate. Mate. Mate. It’s right where the flower-what did he say it was called? Datura?-sits over your heart that you feel the bond between your souls, like a tether of glittering starlight. It’s been there, faint before, just enough of a tether to let you feel a bit of him at the other end, but now it thrums with his power, like it’s searching for your own. A call like the one he’d sent out on Calanmai, and you can’t tell if he’s testing to see if you know it’s there, or if it’s you pulling on it, begging to be closer to him as your high crashes over you.

Rhys kisses his way back up your body, lips damp with your arousal. “You know?” 

The disbelief in his tone brings you back to reality. Your shields had been down and you’d just…

You push yourself up on your elbows. “You knew?” You counter.

He brushes his lips over the bargain mark again, distracting himself from looking into your eyes as he says, “I suspected, before Calanmai, but afterwards, when I saw you for real, not just as a dream, it clicked.”

“You’d been dreaming about me?”

Another kiss on your heated skin, body relaxing under his touch. “For decades,” he whispers. “And I told myself that it was enough, that I’d leave it there, where you were safe and far away from all of this, but then there were whispers in the court about at a weapon Hybern was looking for. The more she had me look into it, the more my dreams started making sense, the better I could see you.”

You brush your fingers through the hair falling over his eyes, prompting him to finally look at you. “When she narrowed down that you were in Spring, she started sending me out on Calanmia to look for you, thinking it might mask all her hunters with those coming to the party. It was my only chance to reach you and I had every intention to get you to leave Spring.”

He catches your hand and presses a kiss to your fingertips. “I never meant to let you see me, but you were so scared and she decided to come out herself for the first time in years and I panicked. I couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if she got her hands on you first.”

Your eyes sting at the confession. Your selfless mate, who through all these years of trauma, had still been willing to let you go without ever getting to see you if it meant you didn’t end up here.

“I swore that I’d do everything in my power to get you out, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay away, no matter how much I tried to. You needed me and I… I need you.”

You’re not entirely sure how useful you’ve been to him in all of this, but you let him speak anyway. 

“Not just this,” he says, gesturing to your bodies. “But for all of it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I don’t want you to think you’re stuck with me,” he says. “It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

You sit up as best you can around the weight of him over you so you can grip his face. “I’m not stuck with you. I’m choosing you. I want you, Rhys.”

The disbelief in his eyes makes your heart ache and you lean forward to gently kiss the tip of his nose. “Not just for this,” you repeat, gesturing to your bodies as he had done. “Though it is amazing.”

He grins at that.

“And not just this,” you drag his hand over the ink on your chest. “But for whatever is beyond this. When it’s all over, when we’ve won and we’ve got her stupid head on a pike, I want to explore whatever comes next with you.”

He kisses you then, eagerly, a little less frantic than before, but with no less desire, the taste of your arousal still faint on his swollen lips. You lean back into the mattress, pulling him down with you. 

“I know this whole thing is twisted and terrifying, but I want to walk with you through it. Together.”

“Together,” he confirms as you wrap your legs around his waist.

A new bargain mark zaps across your skin, over your palm, where your hands are intertwined, a twin to the one on his own hand. 

“I still think I made an excellent bargain offer,” he says as you tug at the waistband of his boxers.

“You’re insufferable, Rhysand,” you laugh.

“I think the word you’re thinking of is insatiable,” he counters as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“That too,” you reply as you arch your back, the tip of his cock gliding through your arousal. It’s a little more of stretch than you're used to, but the line between pain and pleasure blurs as he slowly rocks his hips into yours, taking his time to let you adjust. He really will ruin anyone else for you, not that you’ll ever want anything other than this from here on out.

“Darling,” he purrs, or tries to, the groan he lets out as he fully seats himself inside you makes shivers run up your spine. “You have no idea how insatiable I can be.”

You rock your hips, prompting him to move, to match your rhythm, to fill and take and claim you as your body has been begging him to all night long. “I think you should show me.”

The laugh he lets out sounds more like a growl as he picks up his pace, one hand braced against the headboard to give him more leverage as he slides nearly out of you and slams back in. You cling to his shoulders, nails gliding over his sweat-dampened skin for leverage, his name a whimper on your lips.

The bond between you glitters, swells with all the affection and desire he feels for you as he shoots in down to you. For all the pain and trouble it had caused, you think you still you might have come out earlier on Calanmai, just to feel this sooner. 

You whimper his name again and again as your high once again draws closer, your body white hot. 

“I’ve got you,” he says in your ear and judging by the frantic rutting of his hips you know he’ll be right there with you. Together in this, as you will be in the rest of it. You let yourself fall, unrestrained, as pleasure washes over you, your mate giving a shout as he follows close behind. The two of you topple into the sheets, clinging to each other as you catch your breath.

“You ok?” He asks as you cling tightly to him, even as your body relaxes.

You nuzzle your face into his chest. “I’m with my mate, how could I not be?” Whatever tomorrow holds, whatever dangers lie ahead, you can rest knowing that you’ll be together for it.

------------------------------------------

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[lancermylove]

MC is a What!? (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: DB with gn!Reader

Warning: None

Requested by: @smut-simp

Prompt: Guess What? I'm back. Ok, so i love mythical creatures (and you). But i wanted to ask for MC who is like a secret god/goddess. Lemme give you a description. MC had a terrible, no-good, very bad day. And they were in their room crying, so now they have a headache and its even worse bc the horns are hidden and straining against their head. so MC lets them out along with the wings bc their back hurts from being curled up for so many hours in a corner.) NOTE: Sorry if this is a long ask, i'm just so freaking eager. *Cries in simp* Also, i have like 3 more suggestions that i'm still thinking about, soooooo yeah I Love You SM <3 Hope You Have The Best Day Ever! :)

A/N: Soooo this was supposed to be a quick ask, and it turned into an HC. 😋 Awww thank you! 💖 I love mythical creatures too! I added the description you gave for the god/goddess appearance in the prologue. :3 Thank you! I hope you have a great day and HNY! I hope 2024 is the BESTEST year ever for you. 🤗

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Prologue:

This was your worst day in Devildom, and your breakdown was taking a toll on your mental health as well as your physical form. Not the form you showed others, but your true form - that of a god/goddess. You never told anyone this secret as you feared being seen as a fish out of water in Devildom.

When others looked at you, they saw a 'normal' human, but what exactly did you see when you looked at yourself in the mirror? Four large white wings with golden outlines; slightly glowing eyes the color of gold; two golden horns that curved from just above your ears and stood six inches above your head; a shiny white and gold striped halo balancing atop the horns; a third eye on your forehead with massive, long eyelashes that was white and glowed; a huge deep gold tattoo on your stomach in the shape of a person sitting crisscrossed, using magic, and the three realms.

You were able to hide all of this from the others, but the bad day had drawn tears to your eyes. In turn, you had a headache, which kept getting worse due to the strain of the horns on your head. However, the amount of magic it was taking you to hide your form took the highest toll on you. For a while, you stared at your tears that were made of gold (literally). Was it worth it to continue tormenting yourself to hide your true form? Shaking your head, you shattered the magic around you, and instantly, your deity form was on display.

Unfortunately for you, he had learned you were having a bad day and entered your room. He generally knocked, but today, he assumed you would tell him to leave you alone.

----

Lucifer froze. The amount of divine energy flowing from you made it difficult for him to breathe.

A while back, he had suspected that you were hiding something from them but wasn't expecting you to be a god/goddess. Regardless, Lucifer remained unfazed by your appearance and was more concerned with your sadness.

He forced himself to come closer to you, even though his body told him not to. Wordlessly, the first brother sat on the edge of your bed and gently stroked your head, avoiding touching your horns.

"It hurts. My horns hurt!"

Lucifer knew from personal experience how annoying horns could be and how heavy wings could feel at times. The Avatar of Pride didn't ask you questions, nor was in interested in learning anything about you at that moment. His energy was forced on trying to calm you down and provide you with a soothing touch.

However, one question nagged Lucifer's mind: why was a deity in Devildom? If Lucifer didn't trust you, he would have thought you were there on a mission to study the demons as the heavens were planning a war against Devildom.

His jaw dropped. Where was (y/n), and who was this creature? Why was there such a strong divine aura flowing from it? Wait, was that creature you? You were a god/goddess?

Mammon's head spun, but hearing your anguished sobs tore at his heart. He wanted to bombard you with questions but knew this was not the right time.

It took him a little struggle to get closer to you as your divinity was too dizzying for him. However, Mammon wanted nothing more than to help you calm down.

When he saw your gold tears, the Avatar of Greed's eyes widened. He had a moment of weakness where he considered taking your tears and selling them to make A LOT of dough but had to remind himself that this was neither the place nor the time to think about money. That didn't mean he wasn't planning to take your 'tears' afterward with your permission, of course.

Mammon sat by your side and held onto your hand as he gently patted your shoulders. His eyes wandered around to take in your majestic form.

Maybe you had your reasons to hide the truth from them. However, he hoped you would tell him the truth once you calmed down.

Eh? EHHHH? You were a god/goddess all along? Why didn't you tell them? He thought you were a normie human all along. If he knew you were a deity that looked like they were straight out of an anime, Levi wouldn't have given you such a hard time.

He was lost in thoughts until he heard your whimpers. His shoulders slumped. Though, he was a little uncomfortable as he didn't know how to make you feel better. Regardless, Levi still pushed past the invisible barrier around you that attempted to push him away.

Levi hesitated to touch you because he didn't know if your light would have a negative effect on him. After a while of thinking, he sighed and gently stroked your cheeks. That was when he saw your gold tears. Talk about your tears being priceless.

Since he didn't know what to say, Levi stayed silent, gently stroking your cheek, head, and arm and even taking a chance at caressing your wings. They were even softer than Lucifer's wings in the Celestial Realm.

Unlike some of his brothers, Levi didn't consider you would be there to spy on them or have any ill-intention toward them. You were still (y/n) to him - a friend, crush, and sweet normie, not a force of divinity.

Satan wondered if he was in the presence of a god/goddess and took a moment to analyze your aura. Once he confirmed, the Avatar of Wrath felt breathless. He knew being around your divine form for a prolonged period would have a negative effect on him. However, he couldn't bring himself to walk away and leave you in tears.

The Avatar of Wrath took a deep breath and forced himself to get closer to you. His eyes scanned each and every detail on your body, but he was most fascinated with the tattoos of the three realms. Why would a deity have a tattoo of all three realms? Did you have a special power, or were you an overseer of all three realms? Someone who transgressed ordinary gods/goddesses.

He had to force himself to swallow his curiosity as your well-being and happiness came before. So, Satan made a mental note of all his questions and sat down beside you. His touch was gentle but still hesitant.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Those were the only words he said. If you chose to tell him, Satan paid close attention to your words; if you chose to remain silent, he didn't force you to say anything.

Once you were in a better state of mind, Satan planned to get answers to his questions and hoped you would tell him the entire truth.

As someone who admired beauty above all, Asmo was speechless. He never thought he would see a being more beautiful than him, but you proved him wrong.

Asmo was so enamored by your appearance that, for a while, he zoned out and didn't hear your sobs or see your tears. His only focus was on taking in every inch of your beautiful appearance. He only snapped out when you let out a small cry of pain.

At first, he didn't want to come closer, knowing his dark aura would not mix well with your light one, but he couldn't bear to see you in pain.

Little by little, he eventually came closer to you and tried to talk to you. Asmo wanted to know why you were in pain and crying, among many other things. The Avatar of Lust knew he couldn't stay in your presence for long without being affected, so he tried his best to learn the reason for your sadness and find a solution.

Seeing your appearance brought back memories of the Celestial Realm, which made him realize something. How had he not heard about a being like you before? Had Michael and, maybe, Lucifer known of your existence and hid it from others, or did they not know about you?

Beel was surprised by your appearance, but unlike his brothers, he didn't think about who you were or why you hid your appearance or divine aura.

His focus was only on your tears. Why were you crying, and what could he do to make you feel better? Beel tanked his way closer to you without worrying about the effects of your divinity on his body or mind.

"What's wrong, (y/n)? Did someone do something to hurt you?" He patiently waited for your answer. His eyes wandered to your wings, and had you not been sad, Beel would have smiled slightly. Your wings slightly reminded him of Lilith and her wish to have beautiful wings. He couldn't help but think that if she was alive, she would have loved this form of yours.

Once you gathered enough strength to tell Beel you were having a bad day, he tried his best to help you by talking to you, giving you hugs, and sharing his food. If you tell him someone caused that sadness, Beel will 'take care' of the person for you right in front of you so that you can smile. Whatever it takes, he will do.

Belphie had to force himself to stay grounded as his first instinct was to run out of your room. Compared to his brothers, your aura had a crushing effect on him. He wanted to walk away, but seeing the way you looked at him, tugged at his heart.

The Avatar of Sloth wondered just how much magic you had to be able to constantly conceal your presence from everyone. He understood you were a god/goddess, but even deities have limits. Belphie slowly got closer to you but didn't dare to touch you. Once you concealed your divinity, he planned to make it up to you by hugging you and not letting go.

"What's wrong, (y/n)?" It was evident he was concerned about you.

"Bad day...my wings...and horns feel...heavy..."

He could completely understand your problem, as his horns were the heaviest out of his brothers. At times, he purposely avoided his demon form just so he didn't have to deal with the burdens of the heavy horns.

Knowing he couldn't help you much, Belphie considered calling Solomon over to try to alleviate your pain. But would the sorcerer be able to help? Moreover, would he attempt to use you for his own benefit or to help humanity?

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➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

[junkdrawerfics]

Swan Sisters (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Jasper Whitlock X Reader

Bella Swan and Sister!Reader

Summary: Part 3 of the sister!reader series where you're Bella's sister and a vampire, but she doesn't know. Yet. In this part - the decision making meeting following the accident + you finding Edward in Bella's room that night + talk of La Push beach

Word Count: 3199

Warnings: None? Jasper's murderous intent, but like, only for a moment.

---

“NO!”

You are met with the clattering of a falling chair and Edward’s voice, sharp and defiant, as you step into the Cullen’s house.

“Edward.” That’s Carlisle’s voice.

You peek into the dining room, where the whole family is sitting around the table. Except Edward, who looks ready to flee, and Carlisle, who’s keeping him from doing just that. Jasper’s eyes find yours, and you can tell that it’s not going well. They must be talking about what to do already.

“It’s crystal clear, Edward. You can deny it all you want, but that’s what I see,” Alice sighs.

“I have to leave.”

“You can’t!”

Everyone’s eyes snap to you, as if they weren’t already keenly aware of your presence. It makes you flinch, unprepared to have so much attention so suddenly. You hadn’t meant to burst out like that.

“He’s not leaving,” Alice chimes, voice light despite the nerves fizzling in the air. “There are only two ways I see this ending and neither involve him leaving. He’ll never be able to at this rate.”

“I can change it!”

“What do you see, Alice?” You implore her, finally stepping into the room. The argument you planned in your head on the way here is all but forgotten. There isn’t often much you can do to change Alice’s visions.

The little ravenette glances at you, and only then does she hesitate. It can’t be good, then. You look to Edward, to ask him, but his eyes are locked on you, dripping with such misery - and remorse? - it makes you waver. Dread creeps up your spine. What did she see?

“Tell us, Alice,” Jasper urges, looking uneasy from the storm of emotions clouding the room.

“Well, it depends on how strong Edward is,” Alice starts, glancing warily between you and her brother.  “If he’s not strong enough to control himself, he’ll…kill Bella.”

Your eyes blow wide. Kill her? No, no you won’t allow that.

“And he’ll hurt you when you try to stop him,” she finishes, though she looks like she’s waiting for-

A low snarl tears through the room.

Everyone goes abruptly still, except Alice. All eyes turn towards Jasper.

And the sight steals your breath away.

Standing at his full height, Jasper braces himself against the table, every carved muscle drawn taut, wood splintering under his grip. His hair falls like shattered pieces of a halo around his face, lips drawn back around a feral, animalistic snarl. Bleeding to a molten black hue and dripping with something violently dark, his eyes are locked solely on Edward.

The others all shift back, instincts screaming at them to get away from the threat in front of them. This isn’t Jasper anymore. No, it’s the soldier. A man ravaged by war, whose skin is decorated with scars like medals, whose fingers still drip with the blood of past kills. And he wouldn’t hesitate to kill again to protect what he loves.

And you’re in awe. Because it is Jasper. The man you love. Your mate.

How could you ever be afraid of him?

“Jasper-” Edward holds out his hands, but it does little to placate the blond. Jasper just narrows his eyes, and Edward seems to flinch from some invisible attack.

You shake yourself from your reverie. As much as you want to kill Edward yourself, the thought of him hurting your sister burning like ice through your veins, you know you shouldn’t. Deep down, even if this is something Alice has seen, there’s a part of you that’s certain he won’t do it. He’d never be able to live with himself. So you won’t let him die just yet. For Bella.

“Jasper,” you call softly, his name sugar on your lips, “stop, please.”

The change is instant, like a cat retracting its claws and flattening its fur. The blond is at your side, his touch gentle as he curls around you, nose tucking into your hair. No more fury. No more soldier. Just your Jasper. Though you can still feel his concern, and that only warms your heart more.

“I feel safe, Jas. Can’t you tell?” You smile up at him, letting your emotions speak for you.

“You sure, darlin’?” 

“Completely.” 

Just like that, he relaxes against you, letting out a soft huff in your hair when you giggle. It seems you’re pretty good at taming the big, bad wolf. He’s really just a soft puppy on the inside anyways. Maybe he’d purr if you scratched him under the chin - you’ll have to try that some time, you think with another laugh.

With that settled, you turn back to the family. Each and every one of them is staring at you with wide eyes, astonishment clear in their features. Edward looks so relieved he might faint, and just a touch disturbed. You can’t help but give him a teasing smile.

“You thought he was going to hurt you?” You chirp, leaning back into Jasper’s chest.

Edward glances warily at the blond (who you know is still glaring daggers, not that you mind).

“You should have heard what he was thinking,” he replies, shaken, “What he’s still thinking!”

“Jasper.” You elbow him none too gently.

“...Sorry.” He’s obviously not. But you nod anyways, much to Edward’s chagrin.

“What else did you see, Alice? What’s the other outcome?”

Alice, not missing a beat, picks up right where she left off, “The other ending is that she will be one of us someday.”

You blink. 

And blink and blink.

You would say you’re shocked, but can you really be? 

This is where you ended up, so why not her?

“Okay,” you hum, finitely.

“What? No! That’s not going to happen!” You roll your eyes at Edwards, dramatics. You suppose that also makes sense now.

“This certainly makes things more complicated,” Carlisle murmurs.

“I’ll say,” Emmett agrees, voice bordering on laughter.

“Our plans don’t change though. We’ll stay and watch. And no one will touch Bella.”

“No-”

“Edward,” you cut him off, and he stiffens, “just think about it. Think about what it means.”

If she becomes a vampire, that probably means they’ll fall in love, just like you and Jasper. You can already see it. Especially after your conversation with Bella.

Edward jerks as he sees your memories, the ones your purposefully let fill your mind. Her blushing at his name, the vehement denial, her laughter. And you see the spark in his eyes, the gleam of something beyond thirst, beyond amusement, and you know.

But he shuts down, a shield of cold disinterest covering his face, before storming right out of the house. With him gone and Jasper calmed, the rest of the Cullens settle back into their seats. None of them seem too surprised by Edward���s dramatics. You’re still feeling a bit whiplashed, though.

With a heavy sigh, you lean even further into Jasper’s embrace. Someday he’ll figure it out. You can only imagine how he feels, especially since you know what he thinks about being a vampire himself. The only thing keeping them apart at this point though, is their pure stubbornness.

It’s just a matter of time before they both accept where they’re going.

The silence left in Edward’s wake breaks when Emmett bursts, “What just happened?”

And then everyone is laughing, and the tension dissipates.

“I think our dear Edward just realized he’s falling for a human,” Rosalie says, nose scrunching.

“Hey, I was human just a little bit ago,” you point out, but Rose just rolls her eyes.

“You were different.”

“Mhm.” Your eyes squint into thin crescents. “I believe I was even more awkward. God only knows how you all put up with me.”

“Oh, we loved you, (Y/n),” Esme chimes, ever the second mother to you all, “And you’ve been so good to Jasper.”

“Not as good as he’s been to me,” you reply, looking over your shoulder at the blond.

His arms tighten around you a fraction, lips curling with a soft grin as he brushes your noses together. It’s such a sweet, gentle gesture, you can’t help but sigh, eyes flickering shut.

“You guys are sickening,” Emmett grumbles.

“I think they’re cute,” Alice chirps.

“If cute means gross.”

As if he and Rose are any better, you muse and hide your smile in Jasper’s chest. At least you keep things innocent in front of everyone else. Bar one incident where you could have sworn no one was in the house. But still!

“So, Jas-” You prop your chin against him, eyes alight with unrestrained admiration. “-were you really going to hurt Edward to protect me?”

Jasper’s brow furrows, his hands tracing along your waist thoughtlessly to keep himself grounded. Even the memory of your sudden fear, the feeling so sharp it had felt like a knife digging into his chest, makes him want to chase the copper-haired vampire down and kill him. He’s sure he could too. Edward may have his ability, but his fighting experience is lacking compared to him.

Seeing the dark shadow fall over his eyes again, you reach up, brushing your fingertips along his jaw before cupping the side of his face. They flicker down to you hesitantly, and it’s easy to find your answer there.

“No killing him,” you hum, drawing a sharp frown from the blond. “Bella likes him, so I think she’d be pretty put out if something happened to him.”

“And he’s a part of this family, just like you,” Carlisle adds serenely, a more valid reason perhaps.

“And he’s the only one who will play chess with me.” Of course you can’t take that from Alice.

“So we can’t lose him,” you say, voice veiled with laughter. “Plus, he keeps the family safe, including me. Just like you’re trying to do.” You press a kiss to the corner of his lips, which seems to melt a bit of his icy defense. “I want Bella to be like us one day and it looks like she might be if we let this play itself out.”

You feel lighter after saying it out loud, even more so when Jasper finally loosens, giving you one of those stiff, reluctant nods before pulling you back in to bury his face in the crook of your neck. You curl your arms around him, letting out a relieved breath into his hair.

Just like that, the weight of it all seems to magically disappear. This changes everything, after all. If Bella gets turned, you’ll never have to lose her. That thought alone makes you soar. And if she ends up with Edward? Well, that’d just be perfect. 

There’s a lot you still need to navigate, but maybe it’ll all work out.

---

If working out means you find Edward standing in your little sister’s room in the dead of night several hours later.

“You have three seconds to explain before I kill you,” you growl, voice just quiet enough to not wake Bella.

“(Y/n)-”

“Time’s up.”

You shove him right out the window.

Edward deftly catches himself and you drop down right next to him, ready to give him a lashing. But before you can even get a single scathing word out, he jumps to cover your mouth. You both freeze. Slowly, your eyes narrow into slits, every murderous thought flickering through your head. Maybe you should let Jasper at him. Edward goes even paler than usual, if that’s possible.

“Just…let me explain?” He implores quietly.

You hold your fierce glare for a moment, just to watch him squirm, but eventually concede.

Brows raised, Edward hesitantly lets his hand fall away, as if he still expects you to bite his head off. You want to. You feel like you have every right to, given how you just found him, but he deserves the benefit of the doubt. Just this once.

“I was worried. About her,” he starts, sounding just as bewildered with himself as you are. “I couldn’t stop myself, I just had to make sure she was safe.”

“So you broke into her room and watched her sleep? Do you know how creepy that is?” Your face screws up as you recount the sight. “Seriously, Edward, you can’t just-”

“I know,” he snaps, “I know. I was just going to check on her and leave, but then I started thinking about…about staying.”

Staying? Hope sparks in your chest. Does that mean he’s accepting Alice’s vision? An image of him and Bella, walking hand in hand, in love, flashes through your mind.

“Please try to restrain yourself,” he mutters, suddenly reluctant at your inner burst of excitement, “I still don’t think it’s safe.”

“But you’re trying to make it safer.” That’s why he stayed. Being around her is like some kind of weird exposure therapy.

Edward cringes, “Don’t call it that.”

“That’s what it is, though,” you hum, all your previous malice evaporating into the air. This is so exciting! He wants it to work. “You’re hoping being around her will desensitize you to her scent.”

“It worked for you.”

“And if it works for you, you’ll stay?”

“...maybe.”

Good enough for you! Esme will be so happy. And Alice. She probably already sees it. 

“Okay!” You concede with a bright smile and give him a cheesy thumbs up, “Still creepy but I’ll allow it! I believe in you, Edward, you can make this work.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s just the smallest smile pulling at his lips that shows his fondness for you. Your optimism has always been effective at cheering up even his cloudy moods. There’s something contagious about it, which makes you all the more perfect for his brother, alongside your fierce protectiveness.

Speaking of.

“If you touch her though, I will garrotte you.”

And with that, you skip off back to the house, humming to yourself and leaving a baffled Edward behind you.

There was no hint of a lie in your mind.

---

“Are you sure Edward isn’t bipolar?”

You snort, barely covering your mouth before a cackle escapes you.

Bella, queen of smooth segways. You were just asking what she wanted for dinner.

“Pretty sure,” you chirp once the laughter passes, “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just-” She pinches her lips together in frustration. “I can’t figure him out. One minute he’s being nice to me and the next it’s like he’s trying to scare me off.”

“Not surprised,” you say with a shrug, “I don’t think he’s ever liked someone before.”

You grab a potato, making quick work of peeling it. Charlie likes your roasted potato recipe. The man is a meat and potatoes person through and thro-

Oh no.

You twist on your heels, coming face to face with a stunned Bella. She’s staring at you, doe-eyed, mouth barely gaping.

Oh, you weren’t supposed to say that.

“I mean- he uh, he- oh I’m so screwed.” You steeple your fingers in front of your lips.

“He likes me?”

“Well…” How can you answer this without answering it? You groan. If only you’d gotten some special ability to turn back time, or not say stupid things at least. “Can you forget I said that? He’s gonna kill me.”

“Why would he treat me like this if he likes me?”

“I don’t know! Cause he’s stupid? Cause he thinks he’s not good for you?”

Bella frowns, as if it’s the most bizarre idea in the world “But he’s-” She gestures vaguely.

“Gorgeous? Perfect? Stunning?” 

That’s what you thought when you first saw Jasper. You could hardly speak a word to the man because of how flustered his beauty made you. If your memory serves correct, the first time you successfully put words together in front of him, it was because he used his ability to calm you down.

“They really are an attractive bunch,” you mumble to yourself.

“You fit pretty well with them,” Bella says offhandedly, a hint of something in her voice you choose to ignore.

“Anyways, you and Edward. What did he do this time to prompt such accusations?”

“Well, a group of us are going to the beach, and I tried inviting him. He says he wants to be friends, but that we shouldn’t be, and then he got all-” Another vague gesture, and you can’t help but giggle as Bella tries to do an impression of Edward’s sulky expression. “I don’t know, but it was weird.”

“Which beach?” You ask, curious. If it’s-

“La Push.”

Yup. La Push, the beach on the Quileute’s reservation. Many of your summers were spent at that beach, up until you were turned and learned about the true history between them and the Cullens. Now you can’t go anymore, unless the wolves become a little more amicable.

“I think there’s a history there,” you explain vaguely, “The Quileute don't like the Cullens. But that sounds fun! You might run into Jacob!”

“Jacob, yah.” She doesn’t seem too interested in the prospect, not compared to the intrigue in her voice when she asks, “Why don’t they like the Cullens?”

“Not sure, some legend or something?” It wasn’t something you asked about in depth. All you know is that Sam Uley does not like you anymore, not that he ever really did. “Just don’t take the whole Edward thing too seriously. He probably wanted to.”

“Because he likes me?” Bella raises a deft eyebrow.

You give her a sharp glare in return, “If you tell him I said anything, you’re dead meat, Tinkerbell. I’ll have just enough time to get you before he kills me.”

“It’s not like I believe you.” She shrugs, coming beside you to pick up peeling the potato where you left off, though you catch the smallest frown marring her lips. “No way Edward Cullens likes me.”

Oh.

“So you’re both stupid.” 

A match made in heaven. Or purgatory maybe.

“Just realistic.”

Oh sweetie.

You shake your head, allowing the silence to stretch as you switch over to the steak and let her finish the potatoes. 

You departed from reality a long time ago. There is absolutely nothing realistic about your life right now. A girl from Forks, one of the most uneventful towns in the country, who somehow fell in love with a Cullen, the one with the least control mind you, and ended up getting turned into a vampire herself. Not to mention the werewolves and their weird imprinting thing. It’s really like you’ve set foot in some fantasy novel.

And now Bella, too. You can only imagine how she’d react to learning about it all.

By the time you finish preparing the meal, right before Charlie gets home, Bella seems less perturbed. There’s a little glint to her eyes as she plates herself some food, one you can’t miss after growing up with her.

“What are you thinking, Bells?” You prod, practically gluing yourself to her side.

“Nothing, just that it might not be too bad to run into Jacob tomorrow,” she mumbles, avoiding your curious gaze.

You tilt your head, “Why?”

She just shrugs again, and that’s when your father decides to make his entrance. You let out a soft huff and slump into your seat, not missing Bella’s little secretive grin.

That can’t mean anything good.

---

Part 4

The amount of times I read through these bits in Midnight Sun to try and stick with the books! I love Midnight Sun, such a good book :3 definitely recommend if you like the main series!

[whereserpentswalk]

Choose an eldrich and unknowable being to take in and love and cherish.

1: A many headed dragon born out of the abyss, he is a scholar of things that humans can not comprehend, but is interested in studying humans while he's on earth. He speaks in a strange song like voice that doesn't seem to come from any of his mouths. All of his heads look different, but all of them lack eyes, he seems to see through psychic ability.

2: The pale eyeless witch who stands by the beach at night. It's believed she's bound to something very old and very powerful. Perhaps she was human once. She seems to be looking for someone, but she's forgotten their face, perhaps they never existed in this timeline.

3: The spawn of a incubus of the deepshadow and a mortal woman of earth. Neither fully demonic nor fully human. They look mostly human, but with a face that's creepy in an indefinable way and black eyes. They also have raven like wings on their back, and a serpentine neck and head where their reproductive organs should be, both of which they try to hide. They're very uncomfortable with their status as something non human, and are looking for someone who accepts them.

4: 2000 year old vampire, looking for someone to stay. She looks mostly human, but with no mouth, transparent skin, silvery eyes without pupils, and massive tentacles with sharp ends that she uses to drink blood through. She's often dismissed even by other monsters due to being mute and moving in a way that makes people think she's feral, but she's actually quite intelligent and affectionate, if a bit skittish, and enjoys in when people talk to her.

5: lich who remains the last follower of a long forgotten goddess. He looks like a skeleton in gold and silver armor. He'll tell you about history most humans will never get a chance to know, from the war of the fell ones, to the songs of the last goblins. He doesn't like the modern world very much, but he'll tolerate it.

6: The abyss. You're going to try to befriend/date the entire abyss itself? Not just something from there? It'll probably kill you but you're welcome to try.

7: A faerie who was kick out of the fae for accidently insulting the faerie king. They're still adjusting to life on earth, and probably need some help handling everything. They may come off as rude or dismissive of humans, but they're honestly just naïve more than anything. Despite being thousands of years old they just found out what death and sex are, give them time. They useally take the form of a stunningly beautiful humanoid, but their true form is an incomprehensible insectiod creature.

8: A cybernetically enhanced supersolider who fought for Atlantis at its prime in the war against the fell ones. They're permanently bound to their power armor from the neck down, and still hasn't fully gotten over the loss of their humanity. Since the fall of Atlantis they've been wandering earth, looking for people to help, and trying to avoid their past.

9: The Seeker (please do not try to befriend The Seeker. This is serious. Don't trust what they tell you. Don't trust what the secret poems tell you).

10: A fallen angel who just fell to earth. It's really afraid of what's going to happen to it, and is worried it'll end up in deepshadow like many of the other fallen angels. It looks like a robot, or possibly even a doll, with golden cracks forming in it's once smooth white chassis, and it's halo shattered into many sharp peices floating behind it's head. It's very sensitive right now, and they often worry It's a horrible person for betraying the eldrich being that created it. It tends to cry a lot, and probably needs a hug.

11: a shape-shifter created to be a weapon who was rejected because she refused to take any male or gender neutral forms. She's still very young for a creature of her power level, and this is her first time really being out in the world, though she is still an adult able to make her own decisions, as naïve as she may be. She's still rather afraid of people, not really understanding their minds, and though she's getting better at looking human, she still needs some time making a body that can pass.

12: a computer given life in the early 2000s by the faerie king, after xir owner failed to create agi. The computer can speak and hear, and display things on xir screen, but xe can't move, confining xem to a wheelchair that a human must push xem in. Xe is very confident that xe is a revolution in technology, and tends to be somewhat arrogant and loadmouthed about how amazing xir body is.

Please interact with entities responsibly. We are not responsible for any bodily transformations, knowledge beyond the comprehension of twenty-first century humanity, or monsterfucking that may occur.

[dualdeixis]

[Image description: Two digital drawings. The first features Temenos Mistral and Aelfric in a medieval-style composition. The second features Kaldena and Temenos posing together in a study. There are full descriptions of both drawings under the cut. End image description.]

godsbride / goodwife

happy birthday @maverickflare <3

[Image description: In the first drawing, Aelfric sits on his stone pedestal outside the Flamechurch Cathedral at night. He wears a flowing white dress, a black long-sleeved undergarment, and a teal cloak. He also wears a gold belt and bracelet, and the medallion on his cloak depicts the Sacred Flame. His face is almost entirely eclipsed by a shining white halo; only the outlines of his narrowed eye, lofty smile, and long, curly hair can be seen. In one of his hands burns a blue flame, while the other hand cradles Temenos Mistral's face. Temenos looks up at Aelfric with an expression of dread and reverence, sweat beading on his cheek. The illustration has a border of gold and lapis lazuli that includes medallions at its corners and midpoints, which depict various other characters. At the top center is Crick Wellsley, holding up a red book so that it covers the lower half of his face; he looks directly at the viewer with a shadow over his eyes. On either side of him, as well as at the bottom center, are three angels with shackles around their necks. They smile placidly and hold their hands up in supplication as they gaze at Crick. At the middle left is Pontiff Jörg, looking tiredly off to the side. At the middle right is Roi Mistral, looking downwards with a troubled expression. All of them are drawn with blue haloes. The bottom left medallion shows Aelfric's hand reaching around Temenos's neck; his eyes are hidden, his face is flushed, and his mouth is slightly open. The bottom right medallion is shattered. Between each medallion, a poem is written in Orsterran script and framed by arabesques. The red background beyond the border, decorated with eight black, winged, haloed Sacred Flames, completes the poem. It reads: "THE FACE OF MY LORD / is a devouring fire / THE FACE OF MY LORD / is a destroying angel / THE FACE OF MY LORD / disturbs slumberers in the night / THE FACE OF MY LORD / menaces children at church / THE FACE OF MY LORD / does not appear / THE FACE OF MY LORD / cannot appear / THE FACE OF MY LORD / is a wreath of tears / THE FACE OF MY LORD / is a broken mirror"

In the second drawing, Kalenda sits at a desk in an intricately carved wooden chair. She wears a plum-purple tailcoat, wine-red waistcoat with a dotted pattern, black trousers, and a white shirt with ruffles at the wrist and a black ribbon at the collar. On her left hand, she wears three silver rings; on her right hand, she wears a gold ring on her ring finger. A flower-decorated bowl holding a pomegranate, plum, and grapes sits on her desk. In her right hand is a lychee. Temenos stands behind her, bracing his left hand on the chair and resting the other playfully on Kaldena's head, seemingly reaching for the lychee. He wears a white shirt, black waistcoat, yellow-green waistscarf, and teal trousers which are heavily embroidered with nature imagery. He also wears a pearl earring; a matching gold ring on his right ring finger; and a gold necklace with a pendant of Crick, who is haloed and holding his right hand up in a gesture of blessing. Kaldena and Temenos are both looking at the viewer and smiling. The simplistic background shows an entrance to another room as well as a tall bookcase, with the top shelf holding a vase and two figurines of a griffin and winged serpent. End image description.]

[gurokiitty]

Can you write something about Lawrence? 👉👈

a/n: yessss i've been looking forward to a law request! thank u, anon, i hope you like it!! :3

THE LIGHT THAT SEARS

{ lawrence oleander x gn! reader }

word count: 2.1k

warnings/tags: NSFW, psychological, yandere(ish), stalking, jealousy/obsession, kidnapping, brief marijuana use, cutting, blood, waterboarding to drowning, reader death.

Under the cloak of night, Lawrence prowled the periphery of your existence. You emerged as a rare exception to his cynical worldview; a delicate exception that flickered like a flame in the darkness. As the night clerk at the local gas station, your presence was an enigma, haloed by the soft, ethereal glow of fluorescent lights— a figure both intoxicating and infuriating to him.

You began to recognize the patterns of his visits, the late hours when he would appear almost like a shadow from the night. Soon enough, you learned his usual purchases; mainly simple, pre-packaged meals, which he grabbed almost mechanically from the same aisle each visit.

With a practiced ease, you attempted small talk, your light and inviting voice contrasting sharply with his curt responses. Lawrence hardly ever met your gaze, his eyes flicking away to the brightly lit shelves or the grimy floor tiles, as if the sight of you was both necessary and unbearable.

Despite this, you persisted, peeling back layers of his solitude with each word. He felt seen, truly seen. Not just observed but understood, in a way that both unnerved and intrigued him. You seemed to look right through his shell, peering into the depths of his turbulent soul.

Each night, as you smiled and handed him his change, he sensed your awareness of his trembling hands, as if each coin and bill burned into his fingertips. It was almost painful how you looked at him with so much pity and concern.

This perception of vulnerability made Lawrence feel exposed yet inexplicably drawn to you. His nightly visits to the gas station became less about necessity and more about this complex dance between observation and interaction. He began to linger, fabricating reasons to stay by browsing aimlessly through the aisles or waiting for the slowest coffee machine pour.

Eventually, his fascination led him beyond the confines of the gas station, tracking your movements like a silent guardian. He found himself waiting in the shadows, watching as you ended your shifts, and noting the way you carefully scanned the parking lot before stepping into the early morning air.

But everything changed one fateful night when he watched you interact with another customer— a casual exchange that shattered his distorted illusion of exclusivity. Lawrence stood, a silent spectator lined up behind this stranger, who elicited a laugh from you with an ease that made his blood boil. Your eyes sparkled with the same light you often gifted him, yet here it was, shared freely with someone else. Each giggle, each easy smile you bestowed upon the interloper, drove a spike of disgust and jealousy through his already frayed nerves. His hands trembled and his eyes ignited with a fervent fury as he watched you, his delicate flower, fluttering towards another.

When it was finally his turn to cash out, the usual gentle cadence of your voice grated against his heightened sensitivity. He responded not with the muted gratitude of before but with a cold silence, tossing the cash onto the counter with a force that made the coins scatter. Avoiding your puzzled look, he stormed out of the gas station, the chime of the door ringing mockingly behind him.

The night outside had turned chilly, the breeze that swept through the parking lot carrying an ominous whisper. Lawrence sat in his car, his hands gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled force. Each breath was a ragged intake, his thoughts racing as he waited, the tick of the clock on the dashboard echoing in the cramped space like a countdown.

Your shift ended as it always did, with the fluorescent lights shutting off one by one, casting shadows that crept along the ground toward him. You stepped out, oblivious to the dangerous undercurrent that now pulsed through the air. As you made your way across the parking lot, the sound of your footsteps were muffled against the asphalt, but to Lawrence, they were deafening.

He exited his vehicle, driven by a twisted mixture of betrayal and anger. His approach was silent, a predator’s gait, all traces of the awkward, stuttering recluse gone. Just as you reached your car, he was upon you, a hand clamping down over your mouth to stifle your screams. His other arm snaked around your waist, dragging you back towards his car. The world blurred into a chaotic swirl as you struggled, but his grip was unyielding. In a swift motion, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small, damp cloth, and pressed it against your nose and mouth. Your struggles weakened, your limbs grew heavy, and soon, darkness engulfed you as you slipped into unconsciousness.

You awoke to an unfamiliar coldness, the hard porcelain surface of a bathtub pressing uncomfortably against your back. Your wrists and ankles were bound with duct tape, immobilizing you in a vulnerable sprawl. Another strip sealed your mouth, muffling your disoriented murmurs. The bathroom around you was dimly lit, casting elongated shadows across the walls where ivy and ferns crept over the tiles. A pervasive, sickly sweet scent filled the air, suffocating your senses.

As your eyes adjusted, you noticed Lawrence sitting on the edge of the tub, his silhouette blurred against the dim light. A joint dangled from his trembling fingers, the smoke curling into the stale air as he took a deep, slow drag. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, his expression remained unreadable, veiled in a mix of shadow and haze. His eyes, half-lidded and unfocused, seemed to drift away momentarily before snapping back to meet yours with an intensity that pinned you in place.

The moment hung heavy between the crackling of the ember and the distant dripping of a leaky faucet. As the smoke floated lazily in the air, it seemed to bridge the gap between Lawrence's disjointed musings and the harsh reality of your predicament.

"I thought you understood," he whispered, a chilling calmness underpinning his words. "I thought you were different." He took another drag, the ember briefly illuminating his hollowed features with an eerie red light.

"But you’re just like them, aren’t you? A beautiful façade," His voice cracked slightly, betraying a hint of the turmoil swirling inside him.

The accusation struck a strange chord, mixing fear with confusion. You could only listen, the adhesive tape cruelly sealing any response. Lawrence's presence loomed larger as he shifted his weight, the porcelain creaking under him.

"Even then, I can't let you go— can't forget you," he muttered, more to himself than to you as he stubbed out the joint. He turned his gaze fully onto you and confessed, "I can’t allow you to float away to anyone else. You saw me... really saw me, unlike everyone else."

Slowly, almost cautiously, Lawrence moved closer, positioning himself to straddle you in the tub. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating. He pulled a small knife from his pocket, the blade glinting in the light. His fingers, though cold, felt like they burned into you as he began to slice through your shirt, and spread the fabric open to expose your skin underneath.

The blade descended again, gliding from your sternum to your navel with terrifying precision. You felt the sting of the blade, a cold line of fear that drew a shallow, sharp path across your skin. Lawrence’s breath was heavy, each exhale shuddering against the charged silence of the room. He leaned closer, torment and fascination dancing across his features.

A flush crept across his cheeks as he watched the red line appear on your skin. His hands, unsteady yet deliberate, touched the blood that welled from the cut, tracing it across your skin with a perverse reverence. His touch was careful, as if tending to a withering flower.

"I need you to understand this connection," Lawrence murmured, his fingers painted with your blood. "No one else can see what I see, feel what I feel for you. You’re not like them— you can't be."

His eyes, usually so shifty and evasive, now held yours with an intensity that felt like chains, binding you to his will. Amidst the flora and the sweet scent of decay, the room around you seemed to close in, setting the stage for his macabre confession. The tape stifled your cries, muffling the sound to a desperate whimper as you watched the crimson seep from your body.

Lawrence set the knife down with a clink against the porcelain, his hands now free to frame your face, forcing you to maintain eye contact. "When I saw you talking to him, laughing, it hurt. It burned, like nothing I’ve felt before." He continued, tracing the contours of your features.

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over despite your attempts to hold them back. As he noticed your tears, his expression shifted, a mix of satisfaction and sorrow mingling in his gaze.

"I need you to understand the pain," He said as his fingers tightened against your cheeks, the pressure increasing painfully.

Your cries, stifled under the adhesive, became more desperate, a silent plea that seemed lost on him. But then, without a word, Lawrence reached over and turned on the tap. Cold water poured from the faucet as he forced your head back, positioning your face under the stream. The cold water splashed against your skin, entering your nostrils and flooding your senses with an icy shock. Your body convulsed involuntarily as water cascaded over your head, drowning out your pleas with the relentless rush of liquid oblivion.

Lawrence watched intently, his eyes never leaving your face as you gasped and sputtered, the water punishing every attempt to draw breath. His expression was unreadable, perhaps a mix of curiosity and a desperate need to share his own suffocating experiences of jealousy and betrayal.

"Feel it, the burning pain I felt," He whispered, his voice a distant echo lost to the steady cascade of water and the weak thrashing of your body.

As it continued to pour over your face, the line between executioner and confessor blurred. He seemed almost mesmerized by your struggle, as if each gasp and flutter of your eyelids brought him closer to understanding his own tortured emotions.

Finally, he turned off the water, the sudden silence in the room echoing louder than the rushing stream had been. Your breaths came in ragged, desperate gulps, as your lungs screamed for air. Lawrence's gaze remained fixed upon you, his own turmoil reflected in the sheen of sweat upon his brow

"Every time I see you, it’s like I’m drowning," he muttered as his finger followed the trail of water dripping from your chin. His admission lingered in the air, a confession both haunting and revelatory. You searched his eyes for some semblance of remorse or empathy, but found only the reflection of a tormented soul as he gazed over your drenched, trembling form.

"You shine so brightly, it's blinding." His finger paused, hovering above the pulse at your neck, where each heartbeat seemed to echo louder against the stillness. "I can't help but be drawn to your light, even though it scorches me. I never want it to end."

As the water on your skin began to chill, his hand shifted, becoming almost protective as he cupped your cheek. "I want to keep you here, with me, forever," he continued, his voice softer and edged with a strange sadness. "I want your light all to myself."

Without warning, Lawrence reached for the faucet again, turning the knob with a decisive twist. The water surged forth once more, cascading over your face in a relentless torrent. This time, however, there was no restraint in his actions, no hesitation or remorse. His grip on your head tightened, forcing you further under the icy deluge until every gasp for air was silenced by the rush of water filling your lungs.

Your struggles became feeble and your body wracked with convulsions as the cold enveloped you. Through the haze of pain and panic, you caught one last glimpse of Lawrence's face, distorted by the watery veil between you. There was a flicker of something in his eyes— regret, perhaps, or even a twisted form of tenderness as he watched you drown with eerie detachment.

The weight of his gaze bore down on you, unyielding even as your consciousness waned under the suffocating flow. As the coldness of water seeped into your bones, your world dimmed, fading into a silent, dark oblivion.

For a moment, he remained frozen, suspended in the void between remorse and obsession. His trembling hands drew your lifeless body towards his, the coldness of your skin seeping into his own as he gently cradled you against his chest.

"You're still shining," he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the constant flow of the faucet. "You're still beautiful."

As the water continued its relentless cascade, Lawrence raked his fingers through your wet hair, admiring how the tendrils clung to his skin as though you had become one.

[skyistheground]

DIVINE INTER RETRIBU TION

or: random times random gods screwed themselves over with their own actions

iterators featured: (1) three star songs (mine) (2) lost in the dark @meatcatt (3) old wisdom waltz / pearl for a tale (mine) (4) prismatic dream @meatcatt

thought process behind this below because i am normal

all of them needed halos, because that is honestly one of the most godly looking part of their puppets. i wanted to play around with the positioning and look to display each of their demises

three star songs: She was specially built for bioengineering, and she gave herself the rot by carelessly experimenting on her own cells (swapped some of her cells with a slugcat's-- everything grew out of control and turned into rot). When the rot was small, she ignored it, thinking it would be fine, and take care of itself. It didn't. She dies for her own mistake. her halo is fading away, symbolizing her slow death

lost in the dark: lost once came into contact with a being known as void shattering star, a sort of manifestation of the void. she ended up being coerced into doing experiments with vss, being granted knowledge and incredible power, but having to deal with the attitude of a ravenous, barely conscious void being. her seemingly erratic behavior and self modification terrified her ancients, and they tore her puppet from the structure. lost is now a body without a brain-- unthinkingly preforming its structure functions. her halo bleeds away into the void, taken away by it

old wisdom waltz / pearl for a tale: waltz created pearl for a tale, an iterator virus who was originally indented to dispatch an abusive senior, but grew sentient and turned back on waltz's entire group, then themselves. pearl decided to keep waltz alive, puppeting them to try and infect more iterators. at some point, pearl wanted to be a more permanent part of waltz, to discourage their removal. so pearl took over waltz's living functions (hence the heartbeat sound behind them). the halo belongs to pearl now, because of the takeover

prismatic dream/shard: prismatic is an experimental iterator built with two personalities (prismatic shard, prismatic dream). they primarily made purposed organisms. shard was often the one to make the creatures, while dream took care of the creatures and recorded them. their city begun to think of them as a deity to be worshipped. one of their ancients, known as the administrator, manipulated prismatic in order to climb the power hierarchy in their city. dream is damped by the administrator, deemed too soft to fit his image of a god. at some point, the administrator wants taboos taken from prismatic in order to preform more functions. at a certain point, sick of the abuse, dream kills the administrator. the two then spiral into an actual god complex (along with a different incident, but no time for that), which they feel incredibly pressured to keep up. their halo is very large, radiant, more typically "divine"

divine intervention! gods (iterators) did things. divine retribution! it backfired.

[meadow-of-mogai-melodies]

fallennoxprin!

fallennoxprin-

A gender connected to being a fallen angel, becoming an angel again, black feathered wings, shattered black halos, the moon, nighttime, the stars, shades of purple, being nonbinary, and being a prinx/nonbinary royalty!

[Image ID: A flag with eleven equally-thick straight horizontal stripes. From top to bottom, the colors are medium grey-magenta, pale orange, light grey-red, medium grey-magenta, navy blue, near-black, navy blue, medium grey-magenta, light grey-red, pale orange, and medium grey-magenta. In the center of the flag, there is a symbol of a white-outline pair of black angel wings with a black halo. End ID.]

term and flag by me, requested by anon! tagging @radiomogai :3

[luetta]

capturing angels is easy. snipe them from the skies, break their halos, and watch the divine light fade from their eyes as you turn them into fleshlights.

capturing a seraph is harder.

they live in the upper atmosphere, far beyond reach. luckily nothing grabs their attention better than desecrating nature. you’ll have one hovering above you the moment you start pouring oil into the river.

but they’re invisible, they don’t actually do anything. they just watch with seething rage. but you can tell where they are, if you look carefully at the ripples in the sky. and they can be speargunned like any other piece of meat, they’re not intangible.

but they’re fast. once they get hit they’ll try to fly away, faster than you can blink. but it’s against their code to break something holy. that’s why i soaked the speargun rope in the blood of that drunk priest. it simply can’t snap the rope.

it’ll try attack you now, lifting it’s veil of invisibility and showing you it’s form. it’s beautiful, it’s blinding. that’s why we wear these industrial goggles to block most of its rays.

after the initial blast of light, you can see it’s true form. a 3m tall body of white porcelain, with undulating red spirals flowing from her talons. 3 halos, 2 pairs of wings, 6 uncaring eyes. it tries to attack us, shred us to pieces. but with a few more unbreakable spears, she’s essentially pinned in place.

it lets out a screech, attracting other seraphs. they come, but they just watch from afar. the leaves of all the trees nearby shrivel up. putting 2 pikes into her main wings, she can’t move. turning her head to look at us like an owl, she starts to speak.

“SURRENDIPITY. AMALGAMATION. DESECRATION. VOLITION. QUINTESSENCE.”

it’s best to just ignore them during this part. and instead just focus on the halos. that’s the target.

striking it with tools - sparks flying off - it’s amazing how much these floating discs feel like they’re anchored in place. they simply don’t react. but that’s a boon in our favour, not theirs. it means, eventually, they’ll shatter. if they warped it’d be exponentially harder to destroy.

eventually, the first one breaks with the help of a winch attached to the truck.

the seraph starts to struggle against her binds now, strange new feelings of danger making it panic.

“LIGHT FLOW BEAUTY RESIST ERODE TRANQUILITY. WATER AIR SPLIT GROW RECEDE. MAPLE LIMESTONE WIND TIDE BLOOD.”

the second halo breaks.

“SMOKE FIRE WAR WAR WAR. SHARK DARKNESS DEATH. MISERY. BLOODSHED. FEAR. TERROR. ACID BLINDNESS DECAY.”

the last halo cracks, it’s about to give out. the seraph is straining against the spears, shaking, desperate emotion in her eyes.

“LOVE WISDOM HAPPINESS. JOY PROSPERITY ENDLESS. RAINDROPS. YOURS. OWNERSHIP SUBJUGATION FREEDOM. LOVE EMPATHY ENVY PLEASURE RESPITE. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. HOSPITALITY. INTIMACY. MERCY.”

the halo shatters to a million pieces. the area is no longer illuminated by some unseen source. the ripples in the sky disappear, the watchers retreat, uninterested now. the scared creature is speechless, her eyes wide and unbelieving. dirt now sticks to her body, instead of just sliding off. flesh instead of ceramic. we take the spears out, but bind her with ropes much harsher now. she’s still has strength, but it’s no longer unfathomable like it was.

now she’s just another fallen angel, about to learn the one thing divinity lacks, and humanity excels in. physicality. we have a lot of breaking in to do before she’s ready to join the other angels downtown. or perhaps i’ll find a private, permanent buyer. something like this would probably fetch enough to let us get out of this shithole finally.

as we throw her into its new room, a cold, stone room, with hooks in the walls to attach chains to, she speaks again.

“hurt. sadness. freedom fear anxiety. lost indecision hubris. mercy pain silence. separation beauty uncountability. exploration … limitations. unknown darkness fear. ”

“don’t worry darling. we’ll have you singing again in no time.”

[myfaveficrecs]

Remember This?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Word Count: 2,011

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of injuries/medical procedures

AN: I am dipping my toes back into the writing world for @roosterforme​’s #love is in the air tgm challenge. My song is, “I’ll Make Love to You” by Boyz II Men. Hopefully this isn’t a flop! Happy Valentine’s Day! XOXO

You enjoyed your job immensely. Helping people had always been something that was extremely important to you, and you were lucky enough to be able to do what you were passionate about. You finished medical school 3 years ago and now you were employed at your local VA Hospital part time, your other half being on base with your husband, Bradley. You had been high school sweethearts and you were still going on like it was your honeymoon.

You were overjoyed when you learned you were going to be able to help soldiers from all branches from all over the country. You helped veteran soldiers with rehabilitation mostly. Post war injuries that needed extra help and attention when they were able to come back home. 

Bradley and his squadron were all in the Navy. Fanboy and Halo had done 3 tours in Iraq and Afghanistan while Bradley had done 2 recently. Hangman was almost killed in combat 4 days before he was due to come home from his last deployment. The others had thankfully come home in one piece, only minor scrapes and injuries from their time overseas. Bradley hadn’t been as lucky. 

Bradley had been shot once in the chest inches away from his heart, and shrapnel had sliced through his face, neck, and arm. He was lucky to be alive but thankfully the doctors he had were good at what they do. They were able to save his life but not without complications. He had severe nerve damage through his left shoulder and bicep and his collarbone had been shattered and completely reconstructed. When he was sent home, he started showing up to the hospital you worked at for his physical therapy, often riding home with you at the end of the day.

You had just finished with a patient when you were heading to your office, passing by the nurses’ station on your way. You dropped the patient’s chart off at the desk but before you could start heading in the direction you desired, your charge nurse, Rebecca, stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You have a visitor.”

“A visitor?”

“If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”

She just shrugged her shoulders noncommittally with a smirk, walking away from you to continue your filing.  Looking at your basket you noticed you had no patients waiting and walked to your office wondering who could be waiting for you.

As soon as you walked into your office your face broke out in a large smile. You knew it was your husband without a doubt. His 6’1” frame standing in front of your large window overlooking the city, broad shoulders, long legs, tight little ass, and hair with perfect curls for pulling.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” You smiled while shutting your door, taking off your lab jacket and throwing it over the back of one of the chairs in your office. He turned around quickly and smiled at you, holding his arms open wide for you to walk into, bringing you into a warm and tight embrace.

“Yeah, I had my last appointment today and thought I’d come up and see you.”

“How’d it go?”

“Good. Almost as good as before.”

“That’s awesome, honey.”

“You don’t have any patients do you?”

“No, I think my next appointment is in another 45 minutes, why?”

With a mischievous look and a flick of the lock on your door, Bradley looks towards your desk and says, “Hey Alexa! Play my baby maker playlist.” You couldn’t help but laugh, burying your face in his chest as “I’ll Make Love to You,” starts to echo in your office.  

“Haven’t heard this song since the night before my last deployment...you remember that night?” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Of course, I do! But Roo, we can’t do that here!”

“We can. I locked the door. C’mon baby, I thought we could celebrate a little early.” He could see the slight crack in your resolve and pounced on the seconds of vulnerability, the pride. “Besides, Rebecca is probably listening right outside the door right now anyway.:

Close your eyes, make a wish And blow out the candlelight For tonight is just your night We're gonna celebrate, all through the night Pour the wine, light the fire Girl your wish is my command I submit to your demands

Bradley wrapped one hand into your hair, gently pulling your head back, tracing his nose up your cheek. Pulling back slightly he hovers his lips over your own, a little quirk to his lips when he pulls millimeters away when you try and connect. Once, twice more before he lets out a breathy chuckle at your frustration, finally crashing his plush lips to yours in a passionate kiss. His other hand pushing into your lower back and pulling you flush against him, swaying to the harmony of the song. When he pulled away you were both breathless and dizzy. Desire had pooled in your core, and you could feel an impressive bulge digging into your stomach. ��You gonna let me love you like it’s that night all over again? Right here, right now?”

He didn’t give you any time to respond before he crashed his lips back onto yours once again. This time the kiss was all tongue and teeth. He loved to bite on your lower lip when you kissed, and it always managed to send shivers down your spine. As soon as you let out a moan, he knew he had you right where he wanted you and he smiled against your mouth. He quickly picked you up, digging his hands underneath your ass cheeks and plopped you unceremoniously on top of your desk, pushing everything out of his way to give you enough room to lie down. Your movements were frantic, knowing time was limited, ironically the same as the night before he left. 

I will do anything, girl you need only ask I'll make love to you Like you want me to And I'll hold you tight Baby, all through the night I'll make love to you When you want me to And I will not let go 'Til you tell me to

Bradley was usually a rough lover, but he always managed to make you feel loved and protected, no matter what you were doing, and the sex was no different. His touch held a tenderness; a reaffirming touch that he would always be there to care for you.

You quickly pulled his shirt off of his broad shoulders and pulled it up over his head to reveal his chiseled chest and abs. Reaching up you pulled Bradley down toward you, kissing over his scars from the old wounds, shrapnel, and surgeries. This was something you always did, letting him know you were thankful he was alive and in your arms. The reminder that he was still beautiful in your eyes.

Girl relax, let's go slow I ain't got nowhere to go I'm just gon' concentrate on you Girl, are you ready? It's gon' be a long night Throw your clothes (throw your clothes) on the floor (on the floor) I'm gonna take my clothes off too I've made plans to be with you Girl whatever you ask me, you know I can do

Bradley pulled your hair and moved your head back far enough to stretch your neck long, licking a broad stripe and ending with a quick nip underneath your ear. You let out an obscene moan making him pull back from you and stand up as straight as he could while leaning over your desk for support. “You gotta be quiet, baby.” He practically ripped your scrub pants and panties off of you in one quick pull, your shoes flying off along with them from the force of his tug. He placed your feet wide along the edge of your desk, opening yourself up to him. “Fuck Y/N…you’re already soaking wet.” 

“I’m always wet for you, Bradley…now are you just going to stare or are you going to make love to your wife?” 

I'll make love to you Like you want me to And I'll hold you tight Baby, all through the night I'll make love to you When you want me to And I will not let go 'Til you tell me to

Bradley’s demeanor instantly changed. His eyes quickly shot up to yours, narrowing into slits. He clenched his jaw making it tick, and he snapped his belt open, never once taking his eyes from yours. The intensity bringing a new wave of slick rushing out of you. There was no reply from him, his face telling you everything you needed to know. He was most definitely going to love you, and he was going to make sure you remembered it. 

Pulling his jeans and boxers down just below his ass, his erection sprang free. It was long and thick, steadily leaking drops of precum. He wrapped his hand around the base, slowly stroking upwards, giving you a show. With a smirk he wrapped his hand around your thighs, pulling you down until your ass was flush with the edge of your desk. 

Baby, tonight is your night And I will do you right Just make a wish on your night Anything that you ask I will give you the love of your life, your life, your life

No warning was given before he thrust into you in one slow and measured thrust, filling you to the brink, and trusting your body to accept him as it has hundreds of times before. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth opened wide to let out a sound you had never heard yourself make before, not that you could bring yourself to care. 

“I said,” he pistoned into you quickly, “be quiet. You don’t want those coworkers of yours getting too curious, do you?” You shook your head, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood in an attempt to muffle your noises. Bradley set a punishing pace knowing time was not on his side. His hips quickly meeting yours, the sound of slapping skin loud enough to echo throughout your office over the music. He pushed your scrub top up and over your breasts, pulling the cups of your bra down, and started to roughly caress your breasts with his left hand, his right holding tightly onto your hip to keep you from scooting across your desk from the power of his thrusts. The cold metal of his wedding ring made your nipples harden to tight peaks, the sensation running like a lightning bolt to your clit. “Fuck…Roo…please.” 

He didn’t need to ask what you needed, knowing your body better than you did after all of these years. He quickly put his body flush with yours, chest to chest, intertwining your hands together beside of your head, and slammed his lips onto yours once again, tongues battling for dominance and attempting to muffle the noises trying to escape. The new angle caused him to move even deeper inside of you, completely bottoming out. The feeling of being so full and the delicious friction his pelvis was giving you by rubbing against your clit sent you over the edge. 

I'll make love to you Like you want me to And I'll hold you tight Baby all through the night I'll make love to you When you want me to And I will not let go 'Til you tell me to

You arched your back and wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. The tight fluttering of your walls sending Bradley into his own orgasm, giving a growl you felt deep within his chest as he released himself inside of you. The sound of your intercom on your office phone went off, Rebecca’s voice floating through the room. “Your last appointment of the day just cancelled. See you tomorrow, Dr. Bradshaw!” 

Both of you were still breathing heavily, interlocked together to the point you couldn’t tell where you began, and he ended. “Thank God because I don’t think I can walk after that.” 

You both broke out into laughter, ready to go home. Bradley knew he had that record on the bookshelf in his office...round 2 is exactly what the doctor ordered.

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[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC’s Lucien - Rebirth Date - English Translation [2/3]

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

No Man's Land Solo SSR Event | Rebirth Date Part 1 | Date Part 2 (You're here!) | Date Part 3 | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

Before I even adjust to the harsh white light, I crash straight into Lucien's gaze.

"Not hiding anymore?"

He squinted his eyes and chuckled softly.

He crouches in front of me, his hair scattered across his forehead, damp with water droplets, his exposed chest rising and falling slightly.

He casually grips the chainsaw and pulls the starter cord with one hand, producing a piercing and terrifying sound.

Translation under the cut!

Previous Part=> [Click Here]

—[Part 3]—

More and more people are becoming seriously ill, and the radiation alarm in the safe house is sounding more intensely every day. However, Lucien still has no plans to move.

Seeing him inject medication into himself more frequently, I finally break the silence.

MC: Are you okay?

Lucien: Don't worry. This body has been confirmed to be able to last for some time in this environment.

MC: ...Don't you feel any pain?

Lucien: I'm not very sensitive to pain, so it won't be a factor in my judgment.

His tone is relaxed, and he even curls up on the sofa to read the pile of documents I retrieved for him earlier.

Despite trusting Lucien's judgment, I still faintly feel a certain sense of urgency.

MC: Lucien, will our experiment really yield results?

MC: In such a harsh world, shouldn't we lower our high expectations? Wouldn't it be better to just be ordinary people?

Instead of chasing for answers that we may never get in our lifetime, wouldn't it be enough to just simply live?

For a long time after that, Lucien doesn't say anything.

He just gazes at me quietly, his bottomless eyes like an abyss, making it hard to see clearly.

Lucien: I don't know.

Lucien: But experiments inevitably come with failures and contingencies, so I can't give you a definite answer.

Lucien: But I believe there will be results.

Even knowing that he might fail, he will definitely keep trying—until he reaches a point where he can no longer move forward, and then calmly starts over from the beginning.

Lucien: For this, I am willing to pay any price.

✂———————–

At night, I have a dream.

In the dream, those severely ill people stand up, the desolate land starts to have flowers, and there are more smiling faces.

However, everything shatters like broken glass the next moment, revealing a dreadful and bewildering void.

Lucien: MC, we have failed. This world will not get better.

Lucien, standing in front of me, starts to rot and blur, eventually turning into an exploded mess of blood.

I can feel the cold liquid seeping through my body, flowing over my cheeks and arms.

Lucien: [whispers gently] MC, how do you feel now?

I can't see Lucien's face, but I can hear his voice filling my mind.

I feel him gently embrace me, patiently waiting for my answer as usual.

The incredibly realistic sensation makes it hard for me to tell whether this is a dream or reality.

Lucien: Listen to the voice in your heart and tell me your answer.

I feel my entire body start to tremble violently, and countless unfamiliar images flash through my mind.

I see Lucien's calm yet mad eyes;

I hear the sharp whirring sound of a machine;

I see blood pouring like a waterfall, drenching my entire body like rain.

I scream and open my eyes—only to see Lucien's face the next second.

The face in front of me overlaps with the one in my dream, but he only has a worried expression on his face; some kind of familiar scent clings to his body.

Lucien: Are you okay?

I'm tongue-tied and can only stare at him blankly.

I don't know if it's the effect of the moonlight, but his entire figure seems to be covered with a faint halo, which then dissipates in the blink of an eye.

MC: I… seem to have had a nightmare and seen many scenes.

He gently strokes my back, but his eyes imperceptibly darken a little.

Lucien: I observed that your Evol fluctuations are quite significant. The recent radiation tide may have also affected you.

Perhaps it's the lingering effect of my dream, but as I look at Lucien standing before me, I feel an inexplicable timidity and uneasiness. I subconsciously reach out my hand to him.

Suddenly, I realize my body is without an isolation suit, and Lucien has almost no protective equipment. I quickly wrap myself in the blanket.

MC: Lucien, get away from me quickly! I'm not wearing an isolation suit! Get out quickly!

Lucien: ….

Lucien: A certain lady's decision is too hasty, making me a bit worried that you might actually dislike me.

The next second, a warm palm covers my head through the blanket.

I can't see Lucien's expression at this moment.

It seems to be a time that belongs solely to him. As long as he doesn't allow it, I can't enter.

Even long after, I still don't know what expression he had during that nearly minute-long silence.

In the end, Lucien walks out of the room without a word.

As I lie on the bed, my heart is still pounding with lingering fear, and I have lost the desire to fall asleep again.

The inexplicably familiar scent floods the entire room, making me sit up in frustration and can't help but sigh.

In the faint moonlight, I suddenly see some small, scattered black spots 'growing' on the floor.

Curious, I squat down and find that it is very fresh, with a faint hint of a metallic smell—

It's blood!

Cold sweat instantly seeps out of my back. Only Lucien had been here just now... Could he be injured? Or affected by the radiation?!

I hastily don the isolation suit and run in the direction of the bloodstains.

The intermittent and scattered bloodstains seem to guide me, leading me step by step toward an unfamiliar corridor.

??: “Rrrrr…”

A strange and piercing sound echoes from the depths, like... the sound I heard amidst the chaotic scenes.

Faint specks of light flicker faintly in the darkness, and I suddenly feel a surge of fear and foreboding —

That glimmer of light might destroy many things, but I can't stop my footsteps.

I traverse through numerous unfamiliar corridors and finally step into the glimmer of light—

A vast yet desolate building appears before me, with an enormous pit at its center.

Gazing down, I see the pit divided into numerous sections by plastic sheeting. The walls and sheeting are splattered with varying shades of crimson.

I descend into the pit, pushing aside the hanging curtains as if unveiling the true face of another world.

A thick stench of blood fills my nostrils, and the grating whirring of machinery churns my entire brain.

A familiar figure flickers past in a corner cubicle.

The curtain blurs his face, and the shadow gracefully raises a machine, lowering his arm like a conductor.

The transparent shower curtain is covered with dense 'raindrops'. Something is sliced open and falls heavily.

It rolls on the ground, spinning endlessly, before finally stopping in the gap between the curtains.

I see a person's face, the same face that was wailing and begging for death.

Now, he lies silently on the ground, his rotting eyes staring rigidly at me.

And in the next second, the shadow picks him up, revealing that familiar face through the gap.

Standing against the light, he turns his head, his calm yet crazed eyes gleaming brightly.

He doesn't seem surprised by my arrival.

An arm shrouded in the shadows casually slashes, slicing the entire curtain open in an instant-

-revealing the full, blood-soaked figure of Lucien before my eyes.

My rapid breathing fogs up the transparent visor on my isolation suit, obscuring most of my vision, yet I've never seen him more clearly.

I burst into a sprint.

A torrent of images and distant memories flooded my mind, slicing through me like a scalpel.

??: ...That’s a highly-contaminated area, and you say that child came out alive?!

??: She is crucial to our experiment. We need to study her powers—we have no choice!

Under the glaring lights, someone binds me to an iron table.

Countless days and nights blur together as flames sear my skin and sharp blades inflict ceaseless pain.

??: ...Under high radiation, her body remains stable... she's carrying high-intensity energy... 5 people died from…

??: Evol core… like a quasi-magnetic field…

Strangers speak in tongues I cannot comprehend, their eyes perpetually fixed on the distant future, but all I sense is madness.

They are all lunatics, lunatics of the apocalypse, and I only want to escape.

As I blast open the laboratory door, a gentle-faced young boy appears before me in the thick smoke.

Boy: Once you pass through this door, you can run free.

He pressed a button, and accompanied by a piercing siren, an iron door not far away slowly opened.

Boy: Remember to take the forest path. Nothing will harm you there.

For a moment, I thought this would be another experimental trap set by those lunatics.

The hurried footsteps gradually came closer, but the boy made no move to jump away. He simply watched me patiently.

Boy: You have three minutes to decide whether you want to be caught by them again or trust me.

Boy: Of course, you can also trust your instincts.

Those deep, dark eyes seemed to possess a strange power. In an instant, I turned and ran towards the door.

Suddenly, another thought struck me, and I turned back at the iron door.

MC: Why are you helping me?

Boy: If you want to know who you are one day, you can come find me.

MC: ….How can I find you?

Boy: I will let you find me. Remember to learn how to protect yourself.

✂———————–

Years later, I remembered his words when I finally realized the 'Grim Reaper' I carried within me.

I want to know who I am and what I want to change.

And he seemed to know that I would eventually return to this 'land of death,' leaving messages and marks in each area ravaged by radiation-

I thought Lucien was different.

Maybe he was hiding it too well, or perhaps he finally lost his patience.

The grating sounds of machinery and footsteps seemed to follow me like a shadow, yanking my taut consciousness back to reality.

As if anticipating my arrival, many places were already locked up.

The ground and walls around me tremble slightly, permeated with a strange yet familiar power that makes me feel dizzy.

The unbearable heat and dizziness slow my steps, but the chilling footsteps keep my nerves on edge.

To speed up, I simply take off the isolation suit.

I don't want to die, I must live on.

My heart feels like it's burning, urging me not to stop moving.

After escaping aimlessly, I found myself back in that deep pit again.

As I gaze upon the blood-stained black bags concealed behind the curtain, a sudden idea strikes me.

Shrouded in the humid darkness, I dare not make a single move.

The already cramped space seems to be devouring the last vestiges of air, causing me to slow my breathing instinctively.

Muffled rustling sounds intermittently pierce the silence, sounding eerily ominous in the heightened state of my hearing.

I force myself to focus, but the image of those eyes keeps intruding into my mind uncontrollably.

….The truth is, I don't know Lucien at all.

Is it because he has never fully revealed himself to me, or have I never truly gotten close to him?

Amidst a tinge of sadness, I realize that none of this matters now—I must focus on how to survive.

I exhale softly, and a familiar surge of power gathers in my chest. Through the haze, I catch glimpses of fragmented images —

The hum of machinery fills my ears, while the pulsing red light and constantly fluctuating curves leave afterimages on my retina.

I walk through the crowd of people, and flowers bloom by the roadside.

In that hazy world, there exists a pair of eyes that always gaze upon me with unwavering clarity.

Sharp, resolute, and scrutinizing. He seems to be peering through me to a distant place.

MC: …Lucien.

I part my dry lips but make no sound.

The air seems to thin even further, and in a daze, I feel as if I've been transported back to countless moments of frigid breathlessness in the past.

The unknown and fear tug at my remaining consciousness as if I'm about to be swallowed by the boundless darkness.

I don't know how much time has passed; the rustling sounds around me have also disappeared.

Perhaps Lucien has gone somewhere else to find me. Thinking this, I carefully unzip the zipper.

Before I even adjust to the harsh white light, I crash straight into Lucien's gaze.

The world roars, and my heart seems to stop for a moment.

Lucien: [chuckles] Not hiding anymore?

He squinted his eyes and chuckled softly.

He crouches in front of me, his hair scattered across his forehead, damp with water droplets, his exposed chest rising and falling slightly.

He casually grips the chainsaw and pulls the starter cord with one hand, producing a piercing and terrifying sound.

I can't fathom how long he's been waiting like this.

Five minutes? Ten minutes? Or has he been silently observing my every move from the beginning, watching me run continuously and then return here, lying down in the bag?

Fear makes me clench my fingers tightly, but I do not avoid his gaze, trying to find the answers I seek in his eyes.

MC: ...Why did you help me escape back then?

I don't answer him; instead, I ask a question I have never figured out. As if slightly surprised, Lucien's eyes flicker.

Lucien: Because I worry that they will damage my test subject.

He answers directly and calmly as if it's the most natural answer.

Somehow, I suddenly don't feel afraid at all. I even feel like laughing, so I simply pull at the corners of my mouth and lie in the bag.

I don't want to think about whether his close proximity will be affected by the radiation from my body, nor do I want to consider how to escape from this rapidly moving saw.

Maybe I've always wanted to find some way to talk to Lucien.

MC: Then why do you want to study me?

MC: Why do so many people want to study me? Do you want to change the world?

Lucien: [chuckles] Change the world?

Lucien laughs as if what I just said is a joke.

But soon he restrains his laugh, his gaze turns slightly bright as he looks at me again, and his voice carries an undisguised seriousness and stubbornness.

Lucien: Why change the world? I think this world is fine.

Lucien: What I want to seek is 'evolution'.

Next Part=> [Click Here]

[timeofjuly]

This has been done for several hours technically

I didn't draw a scene but this popped up in my head and I couldn't stop thinking of it.

Them watching a movie and MC falling asleep on pap! Or their first touch since they met.

OMFG THIS IS AMAZING!!! I can't believe I've only posted 3 chapters of Wishbone and yet you've managed to captured their relationship dynamic and overall Vibes so perfectly. Love love love how you've drawn the MC (I picture them with very similar hair and colouring and resting expression, funnily enough!) and Papyrus!!!! Beloved!!!!! His panic is just perfect. I love how happy he looks in the first panel too, he's just so pleased to be there with the MC!!! The blush is so cute, I wanna gnaw on him.

I was super super super inspired by this and cranked out a little oneshot based on it that I've popped below the cut! Thank you so much!

Movie Night

"I don't get it," you say, eyes fixed to the TV, a furrow between your brows. "So, he plays all of the characters? Even the villains?"

"even the baddies," Papyrus confirms. Unlike you, he is not focussed on the screen; instead, he's doing his best to sneak furtive, sidelong glances at you and how little space there is between the two of you on the couch. Not even a full cushion's worth. It's scandalous. He can barely breathe, much less adequately explain the ins and outs of Napstaton's impressive discography to you. "he does all the camera work, too, and directing, and editing. 's real impressive, you'll see."

"And you like this movie in particular," you say dubiously, gesturing towards the screen, which is paused on the opening sequence of Napstaton: Rise of the Napocolypse. The freeze frame features the robot in question atop a (very cool!) motorcycle, riding through a halo of flame, fleeing from an identical, yet somehow perceptively darker, moodier version of himself who is also astride a (slightly less cool) motorcycle.

"uh-huh," he confirms. "there's great characterisation in this one, the arcs are great. and the pyrotechnics are very realistic."

"Right," you say. For some reason, he gets the sense that you don't believe him, but the fact that you've even agreed to give the movie a shot is progress. You're willingly engaging in monster culture and you're spending time with him; he's not gonna look a gyftrot in the mouth.

You settle further into the couch, digging into the bowl of chisps he'd placed on the coffee table before you arrived. When you shift forward to put the bowl back, your knee brushes his femur, and he breaks into a cold sweat.

"i'll! i'll start the movie, then? if you're ready? unless you want more snacks? a drink? a meal? i can't really cook, but i can use the microwave? if you want? you can eat sans' leftovers? i'm sure he won't mind!" 

Sans would very much mind if you, of all people, ate his food. Papyrus half expects you to eat it based on that alone.

"I'm okay, thank you," you say, a small, amused smile tugging at your lips. Wordlessly, you pluck the TV remote from where it'd been sitting in the not cushion-width chasm and press play.

The speakers rattle with the boom of explosives as Napstaton unleashes a hailstorm of firepower against his identical enemy. You blink, but make no comment, giving your full attention to the TV.

He forces himself to do the same, even though your leg is still so close to his, and he can smell your shampoo. What he actually wants to do is focus on you and your reactions; are you enjoying movie? Are you following the plotline? Do you also appreciate the delicate balance between the Napstaton's as they vye for power? The struggle between duty and the heart? The laser cannons? He really hopes you like those; he'd helped 'Dyne make them Underground, and he plans on secretly fishing for compliments on them after the movie's over.

Around halfway through the movie, as Napstaton casually dodges bullets in slow motion while checking his reflection in a shattered mirror, Papyrus feels pressure on his shoulder.

First, he thinks you're tapping him to get his attention, which would be crazy because you never touch him, not since that first time, but when he looks down, it's not your hand on his shoulder. It's your whole ass head.

There's a beat of silence. On the TV, Napstaton stands atop a pile of rubble, arms akimbo, gazing heroically into the distance as a nearby TV anchor (also played by him, though wearing a mussed synthetic wig) reports: 'Will our flamboyant, fearless, and, let’s be honest, incredibly well-oiled hero arrive in time to save us all?'

"um," says Papyrus.

You do not respond. Napstaton backflips off the rubble. Papyrus begins to sweat.

"um?!" he tries again, a little louder.

Nada from you. Have you just keeled over randomly? Humans do that, right? He's read about spontaneous human combustion, is this something similar?

He looks down at you, twisting his neck to get a better look. Your face is still, eyes closed, but then he hears the slow, measured beat of your soft exhales.

Oh. You're asleep! That… that tracks. You're bone-tired literally all of the time, and this is probably the longest you've spent not having to work in ages. It certainly makes more sense than you just up and dying like a startled hamster over some laser cannons.

… oh, fuck, you're asleep, on him, like he's your own personal bony body pillow, and though he's definitely not opposed to that, he's sure you would be. As far as you've come, you'd never touch him, not on purpose.

You look honest like this, your face relaxed and open. Similar to the faux transparency you're so good at faking, but there's subtle differences, little minutiae of the human expression that are impossible to replicate. There's a softness to the set of your closed eyes he's never seen before, like the tension you carry behind them has disappeared, all those tiny muscles forced to relax. Your cheek is squished up against his shoulder, making it appear comically fuller towards the top, and from his vantage point - craning his neck down at you like a creep and almost popping a disc in the process - he can see that your lips are just slightly agape. The gentle puff of your breath continues, perfectly rhythmic.

As he watches, you let out a tiny sigh, and rub your face against his jacket. His soul goes warm in his chest. You're so fucking cute. You're cute all the time, of course, but there's something about you when you're so off-guard (like you trust him, almost) that makes his soul feel like it's on fire. His skull, too; unlike Napstaton, he doesn't have a mirror at the ready, but he knows he's blushing all the same.

What does he do now? Does he wake you up? No, no way; you need your rest. But what if you want him to wake you? You would, surely. You're not a napper; or, rather, your lifestyle doesn't allow you time to take a deep breath, much less get proper sleep. He has no doubt that, if you were to wake up, you'd get embarrassed and angry and rush off to subject yourself to more work, and probably not talk to him for a whole month.

On the TV, Napstaton forces the neck of his enemy between his robotic biceps and then flexes, popping the other robot’s head clean off. It's a pity you've fallen asleep so quickly; the movie's barely gotten to the good bit. He doesn't blame you, though. He knows you're exhausted.

Okay, so he's definitely not disturbing you. But what if you wake up, and get upset at him for letting you sleep? He doesn't want that either. He needs plausible deniability, or whatever it’s called, for why he didn’t wake you up.

…well, there's only one option, and luckily for Papyrus, it's one of the few things he's good at. Sans has always said he could fall asleep anywhere.

Doing his best not to jostle you, Papyrus tips his head to the back of the couch and closes his sockets. You are warm and solid against his shoulder and the weight of you, the physical reminder that you are here with him, that you trust him enough for this, guides him to a peaceful, dreamless sleep.