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bohbee · 1 year

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Dateables reacting to MC getting hit!

Warnings: Strangulation, Hitting, Death, Implied Torture?, Bruising, Blood, Stitching

Notes: This is iffy but yeah, this won't be getting proofread.

Part 1

Masterlist

Diavolo

Clicking of silverware, sipping of drinks, and soft chatter could be heard in the Palaces dining room. It was a feast to celebrate the engagement of The Lord Diavolo. Many nobles came to share their congrats, there was at least 30 figures at the elongated dining table. The night was coming to an end, and people started going back to their residences, leaving only a few others in the Palace.

"Excuse me," a voice behind you said, you turn your head softly to see an elegant looking male. He slightly bowed down "If you don't mind, could I talk to you in private? I wish to share my congrats." He asked, seeing nothing wrong with it you excused yourself and lead the male to an empty hallway.

His blue eyes peered into yours, his demeanor completely changing. "Y'know, Lord Dia and I were very close in the past." He said, you irked a little at the nickname, but let it slide. His face was painted with a scowl, "Very close, might I add." You furrowed your eyebrows in a confused manor, Diavolo never mentioned dating anyone before. The male walked closely to your body, "That was until a little human showed up. Stealing my spotlight, taking the gift of eternity. Which was supposed to be MY gift."

You stood your ground, heavily irritated by the male who was claiming that he was born to be in your place. "You don't get to choose what he wants." You said, trying to keep back your snarky remarks. His palm met with your face, causing you to stumble backward. "HES MINE!" He yelled before pouncing on you, his hands on your throat constricting your airway. He didn't get far before being tossed aside by the now smiling butler.

"It would be in your best interest to not lay your hands on the Lords significant other." Barbatos said as he slowly walked over to you, carefully assessing your injuries. The male got up to dash out of the palace only to slam into your Fiancés chest. Diavolos' golden eyes were filled with rage when he saw your body on the ground. He quickly grabbed the pleading male, "You will suffer the consequences of your actions." He muttered darkly. He motioned Barbatos to take him away.

Once Barb pulled him to the basement, Diavolo rushed to your side. His eyebrows furrowed as his irises held pain and sorrow. "I am deeply sorry, my love." You shook your head with a small smile, his hands slid under your body, lifting you up bridal style. "No need to apologize for the actions of someone else." You kissed his cheek softly and moved your head to the crook of his neck.

The two of you sat in his room for the rest of the night, talking and laughing away. You invited Barb to join the two of you while playing some games, leading you guys to have a very fun game night.

(Bonus: Lucifer answered the call from the royal butler, excusing himself from the dining table with his brothers. His eyes widened, "Excuse me?" His tone was cold. "I will be there immediately." After hanging up the DDD, he brought himself to the dining table, "I will be going to the Palace. There was an assassination attempt on MC. Please stay here for their safety." The brothers stared in awe but nodded. The poor dude was obliterated to say the least.)

Barbatos

You ran to the palace, tears streaming down your stinging face as the rain drenched your body. Soft sobs emitted from your throat. You knocked on the palace doors in urgency. No one was chasing you anymore, but it was still frightening. The door opened, and your boyfriend stood at the door, his usual calm eyes now filled with worry. He ushered you in, pulling you to the infirmary.

He sat you down on the chair and grabbed some medical supplies, "What happened." He said calmly, though his voice held true rage. "Some lowerclass demons..." You choked out a sob, your boyfriend walked over and started to softly clean the gash on your eyebrow. "Go on, dear. It's okay. I am here. There's no need to be frightened anymore." His voice was sincere as he deeply gazed in your eyes, waiting for you to tell him what caused your injuries. "I don't know what caused it, I got a high score on the exams, they got pissed?" You winced softly at the small stitch on your face, a sorry emitted from his lips.

"I understand. This will not happen again. I will have to report this to the Lord. Would you be comfortable joining me, my love?" You softly shook your head against the idea. "That is perfectly fine. Go ahead to my room and change, I'll be there soon."

After a while, your favorite butler came back with a tray of your favorite foods, "You didn't have to do all of this, Barb." You muttered with a soft smile. He only shook his head. "I would do anything to ensure that my doll is happy."

You spent the night in his arms, both of you sleeping peacefully. He finally has found his time stopper.

(Bonus: Diavolo nodded at the words that his butler said. "Go ahead and be with them. They need you more than me. I will be holding a halt on the school until we find the suspects." Barbatos nodded at the Lords words, thanking him before leaving. The next week, school was out for an unexpected break, and when it came back, four students were never to be found again.)

Simeon

You stood shocked at the pain on your left cheek, Simeon stood in front of you, his angelic form out in a protective manor. Scaring off the offensive demon, Simeon quickly went to his normal form and turned to you. "MC?" He said softly, not trying to startle you. His soft gloved hand grabbed yours, you looked into his beautiful eyes with admiration. "How are you fee-" his attempt to ask you how you were doing was interrupted. "You're beautiful." You blurted out at him, his eyes widened at the compliment. "My sun, thank you for the compliment, but that is by no means what we should be focusing on."

He softly dragged you to Purgatory Hall. Luckily, everyone was out and about. Letting the two of you have some alone time, it was silent, the rooms air was thick. "Simeon, what's going on?" You whined out, trying to grasp him from his thoughts. He let out a sigh before looking back at your face, frowning at the small bruise. "Dear, I couldn't protect you from being hit. I am supposed to be your guardian angel, yet I couldn't save you...." His fingers slightly traced your bruise before he pressed his lips on the injury. The dark mark on your face immediately started to heal at his delicate lips.

"Sim look at me." You said softly, his blue irises looked into your eyes. "You just healed me with a kiss. You didn't know that was going to happen. You're still my guardian angel, but most importantly, you're my boyfriend." You smiled softly, hugging his chest. "Plus.... your wings literally lit up half the fucking area." You giggled softly, his lips went into an endearing smile. "You truly find it that beautiful?" He asked you, and you quickly nodded your head. "Well, it's all yours."

(Bonus: the rest of the Purgatory Hall made it back, shocked to see Simeons wings. All of them other than Raphael gasped. "What's the occasion?!" Solomon asked, Luke nodded quickly, doing cute jumps. "Ah, there was an incident. They saw my form and loved it." Simeon said softly, laughing at Luke's reactions. "What incident?! A pesky demon, I bet!" The kid said, causing you to nod. "Yeah, he hit m-" your mouth was covered by your boyfriends hands. You peered up to the other three, Luke had an out of character dark aura, Solomon had a torture book floating around him, and Raphaels spears were out. Shit.)

Solomon

His eyes locked onto your unconscious body, he looked up only to find one of the demons he has a pact with. "Uh,- Sir it was just-" the demon was thrown to the ground immediately "silence." Solomon's voice said, deep and scarily, using the pact to his advantage, people gathered around. "So I assume you don't know who they are, hm?" He said with an amusing tune, his brown eyes piercing into the demon's eyes. The demon shook his head vigorously "Well. Too bad."

The air around the sorcerer got thick, his eyes glowing with magic. "Let this be a message to everyone, Never. Ever. Lay your grotesque hands on, my spouse."

The demon was quickly eliminated, Solomon lifted your limp body and ran to Purgatory Hall, once he made it inside he quickly placed some healing spells on your body. The large bruise on your face shrunk, and he furrowed his eyebrows softly, kissing the now small bruise. "I will never let anyone lay their hands on you again.... sleep well, my beloved."

When you woke up his eyes shot towards yours, "Hey hey, how are you feeling?" His hand grabbed yours, "I'm alright, uh.. what happened?" You asked with a groan, causing him to have a small smile, "Don't worry about it okay? It's all taken care of now." His thumb ran across your knuckles, "Come on Luke was worried sick."

(Bonus: when you walked out of Solomons's room, the sweet smell of the living room filled your nostrils. Hundreds of baked goods filled the space. "MC!" The blonde angel yelled, before launching himself into your arms, "You're alive... grr I swear I'll.... I'll get those demons to pay!" He said, he let out a soft sigh before grabbing a plate. "I uh.... stressed bake I made you your favorite......*)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

:) what's your favorite dessert? I like plain cheesecake

#obey me #obey me x reader #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #solomon x reader

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hoshifighting · 3 months

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Tease and Release

Synopsis: Where Jeonghan is a fucking tease, and you freak out.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, orgasm denial, degradation, teasing, edging, sensory deprivation, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, orgasm control, overstimulation and etc.

This smut was crafted based on a request by my lovely moot, Asyre. love you so much! I hope you enjoy the smut!

Jeonghan, with his tousled hair and mischievous grin, was your boyfriend, a master of teasing with a penchant for mischief that seemed to dance in his eyes. His teasing wasn't born out of malice or any wrongdoing on your part; it was simply ingrained in his nature, a playful spirit that delighted in seeing you squirm and blush.

But perhaps his favorite moments were those when he could coax a request from your lips with nothing more than a coy smile and a knowing glint in his eye. Your doe eyes, filled with desire, never failed to captivate him. He found an irresistible allure in the way you begged for something, your voice soft and pleading, your hands clasped together in a silent plea.

Jeonghan now hovered over you, his eyes dark with hunger as he held your trembling legs still, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You like that, don't you?" he purred, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "Begging for more, just like I knew you would."

You moaned softly, unable to form coherent words as the sensations overwhelmed you. Jeonghan's touch was electrifying, his fingers trailing along your skin with a feather-light touch that left you gasping for air.

"Tell me how much you want it," he demanded, his tone firm yet tinged with a hint of amusement. "Tell me how badly you need me to take control."

Your breath hitched as you struggled to find your voice, your mind clouded with desire. "Please," you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper. "I need you. I need you to...to..."

Jeonghan's lips curled into a wicked grin as he leaned in closer, his gaze burning into yours. "To what?" he taunted, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "To fuck you senseless? To make you scream my name until you can't think of anything else?"

You nodded frantically, your body arching towards him as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. "Yes," you gasped, your voice raw with need. "Yes, please...I need you to fuck me. I need you to make me yours."

Jeonghan's laughter filled the room, a sound that sent a thrill coursing through your veins. "That's it, my little slut," he murmured, his words sending a shockwave of arousal straight to your core. "You're mine now. Mine to use however I please."

Jeonghan's touch was maddeningly slow, his fingers tracing teasing circles around your swollen clit as you writhed beneath him, desperate for release. Your mascara was ruined, black streaks running down your cheeks from the tears of frustration mingling with pleasure. The sheets beneath you were soaked, evidence of your arousal that only seemed to fuel Jeonghan's desire further.

He reveled in denying you the release you so desperately craved, prolonging your torment with each agonizing minute that passed. His lips curled into a wicked smirk as he watched you squirm and whimper, your pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears.

"Please," you begged, your voice hoarse with need. "Please, Jeonghan, I can't take it anymore. I need to come."

But Jeonghan only chuckled darkly, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on your sensitive flesh. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're going to beg for it, sweetheart. Beg for your release like the desperate little slut you are."

You moaned in frustration, the ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable. Every nerve in your body screamed for release, your muscles tense with the effort of holding back your climax.

Jeonghan's cock slid into you with agonizing slowness, filling you inch by inch until you thought you might burst with the overwhelming sensation. But just as quickly as he entered, he pulled back, leaving you aching and empty, your body instinctively reaching for the penetration that had been abruptly taken away.

You whimpered in frustration, your pussy throbbing with need as Jeonghan teased you mercilessly, entering lightly before pulling out again, each movement driving you closer to the brink of madness. Your hips bucked against him, desperate for more, but he held you firmly in place, denying you the release you so desperately craved.

But Jeonghan only chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he continued to torment you with his slow, teasing movements. He loved to see you like this, your body writhing with desire as you surrendered to his control.

Your breath hitched at his words, desire coursing through your veins as you nodded frantically, your body aching for more of him.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Say you need me to fuck you. Say it, and maybe I'll give you what you want."

You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper as you surrendered to his will. "I need you to fuck me," you breathed, your words filled with desperation. "Please, Jeonghan, please..."

But instead of granting your request, Jeonghan pulled back, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you squirm beneath him.

"You're going to have to beg a little harder than that." he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Your frustration boiled over, and with a surge of anger, you screamed at Jeonghan, your voice laced with frustration.

"What the hell are you doing?!" you exclaimed, your chest heaving with pent-up emotions. "Stop teasing me and just fuck me already!"

Jeonghan's eyes widened in surprise at your sudden outburst, but there was a glint of something deeper beneath the surface—a flicker of admiration for your newfound assertiveness.

He didn't respond immediately, instead letting the tension between you linger in the air for a moment longer. And then, with a predatory smile, he decided to "correct" your attitude.

Without a word, he sank his dick deep inside of your cunt, filling you completely for the first time that night. Your scream pierced the air, but this time it was a cry of pleasure, not frustration, as pleasure washed over you in waves.

As you moaned and writhed beneath him, Jeonghan's lips curled into a smirk of satisfaction. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke in a low, husky voice.

"See how you talk to me, slut?" he murmured, his tone dripping with dominance. "You want me to fuck you? You want to feel me deep inside you? Then you better learn to ask nicely."

You shivered at his words, a thrill coursing through your veins at the commanding tone of his voice. Despite the initial shock of his sudden assertiveness, you found yourself responding to it, craving more of his dominance, more of his touch.

The headboard rattled against the wall with each thunderous thrust, the sound echoing through the room as Jeonghan pounded into you with relentless force. His balls slapped against your ass, a rhythmic percussion that fueled the fire of your desire.

His cock drove into you with such intensity that it almost reached your cervix, every stroke sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. He looked like an animal now, his primal instincts taking over as he fucked you without a care in the world for the neighbors who might hear or the mess your poor, messy cunt was making around his big cock.

"Mmm...fuck," he groaned, the sound reverberating through the room. "You feel so good, baby. Your cunt...so tight around my cock..."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but you knew you weren't allowed to cum, not yet. So, you desperately tried to hold back, to stave off the overwhelming pleasure that threatened to consume you.

But Jeonghan knew just how much you loved the way your cunt clenched around his cock when he moaned, and he used it to his advantage. As his moans grew louder and more whiny, he teased you mercilessly, knowing full well the effect it had on you.

"Ahh...fuck," he moaned, his voice thick with desire. "You like it when I moan, don't you? You love feeling my cock twitch inside you, making your pussy clench around me..."

You whimpered in response, your body trembling with need as you fought against the rising tide of pleasure. But Jeonghan wasn't finished yet; he continued to tease you between moans, his words driving you to the brink of madness.

"I bet you're desperate to cum, aren't you?" he taunted, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "But you're not allowed yet, baby. Not until I say so."

You whimpered in response, your body writhing beneath him as you struggled to hold back your orgasm. The sensation of his cock filling you, combined with his teasing words, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, threatening to overwhelm your senses.

Desperate to maintain control, you contorted your body, burying your face in the pillow and clenching it tightly as you fought against the rising tide of pleasure. Your nails dug into the fabric, threatening to rip it apart as you sought some semblance of relief from the overwhelming sensations.

But Jeonghan wasn't finished yet; he could sense your struggle, and it only fueled his desire to push you further. With a wicked grin, he intensified his movements, driving into you with a force that left you gasping for air.

"Ohhh," you cried out, the sound of ecstasy and surrender as you throbbed around Jeonghan's cock. The sensation of his tip hitting your g'spot sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, your eyes rolling back in sheer bliss as your body surrendered to the overwhelming sensation.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream of pleasure as you creamed around his cock, your essence coating him in a slick sheen of cum. The knot in your belly finally unraveled, releasing the pent-up tension that had been building inside you, and you convulsed on the bed in waves of ecstasy.

Jeonghan watched you with dark, hungry eyes, his hips never faltering as he continued to drive into you with unrelenting force. "Did I allow you to cum, baby?" Jeonghan's voice was low and taunting as he questioned you, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

Before you could respond, he took matters into his own hands, punishing you for your disobedience by circling your clit with lightning speed. The sudden intensity of his touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through you, and you hissed in a mixture of pleasure and pain as you tried unsuccessfully to squirm away from his relentless ministrations.

Your senses were overwhelmed, your body hypersensitive from the intensity of your recent orgasm. Every touch, every stroke of his fingers against your swollen clit felt like fire, sending waves of pleasure radiating through you despite your attempts to resist.

Your teary eyes met Jeonghan's gaze, a mix of pleading and desperation reflected in your gaze as you silently begged for release. He watched you with a smirk, reveling in the power he held over your pleasure.

"You can only cum if I come," he declared, his voice low and authoritative.

You squirmed desperately beneath him, your body on the edge of another orgasm as you struggled to hold back the overwhelming tide of pleasure that threatened to consume you. Your breath came fast and ragged, each gasp filled with anticipation as you awaited Jeonghan's release.

"Mmm...ohh," Jeonghan moaned, his voice husky with desire as he approached his own climax. "Fuck, you feel so good..."

Your moans mingled with his, a symphony of pleasure filling the room as you both teetered on the brink of ecstasy. And then, with a primal roar, Jeonghan came undone, his hot seed filling you up as you cried out in pleasure.

The sensation of his release sent you over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm as you came around his cock once again. Your moans echoed off the walls.

Jeonghan withdrew from you, leaving you panting and spent as you lay on your side, your body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. Your eyes fluttered shut, a blissful haze descending over you.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan's gaze lingered on your flushed form, a smirk playing on his lips as he admired the sight of his cum spilling out of your well-used cunt. Your swollen clit throbbed with sensitivity, a testament to the intense pleasure you had just experienced.

He watched as you clenched around nothing, your pussy still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. The sight filled him with a sense of pride and satisfaction, knowing that he had been the one to bring you to such heights of pleasure.

With a satisfied sigh, Jeonghan reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and affectionate. He leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he whispered, "You were so good for me, baby. You always are."

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comicgeekscomicgeek · 1 year

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This makes me incredibly angry.

[ID: Screenshots of a Facebook post from user Advocatus Peregrini, which reads:

I was conversing with a fully-grown adult a few days ago, born and educated in the USA, who let this little gem drop:

"Well, it's like Shakespeare said, "Love conquers all!""

I pointed out that Shakespeare never said that, Virgil did, (Eclogues X) and Chaucer after him (Canterbury Tales.)

She said, "Oh I'm sure Shakespeare said that. In Romeo and Juliet!"

I sighed. I've been in that play several times, in different roles, and even directed it. That text does not occur in it.

But the real grind-my-teeth moment here was that if Romeo and Juliet can be said to have a message, it is most certainly not "Love conquers all," seeing as the lovers die by their own hands with a trail of their friends and relations' corpses in their wake.

Neither this fact, nor the fact that I knew the play, nor my explanation that Virgil and Chaucer used the phrase long before Shakespeare's birth dented her determination that "Love conquers all" came from Shakespeare.

"You don't know ALL the versions!" she protested.

All the versions?

Alternative Bard?

With every instinct screaming at me to let the matter drop, warning me that some horror that will not soon be absent from my nightmares waited around the next corner of this conversation. I pressed on.

It was a decision I was soon to regret.

I asked when she had first read "Romeo and Juliet." She said she had only read it once, when she was in Junior High. In the version she was taught, Romeo and Juliet survive, are reconciled with their parents, and are married in the church with their friends Mercutio and Tybalt arm in arm in the wedding party.

"Help me into some house, Benvolio, or I shall faint."

It turned out that her school had their own "version" of Romeo and Juliet, with an "uplifting" ending. This was printed and distributed by a religious education publisher. And it was the only version of the story that she had ever read. Of course she had HEARD other people say that the story was a tragedy, but she just assumed they were wrong.

And she did not see why MY version of Shakespeare should be considered better than HER Shakespeare, which, after all, had a much more wholesome ending.

I explained, in vain, that "my" version is definitive because Shakespeare actually wrote it (quiet, you Oxfordians. Don't make me stop this car) and the message of the play - that when adult stubbornness meets youthful impulsiveness tragedy ensues - is lost in the ersatz, happy-clappy ending.

She said the ending that had been Frankensteined onto Shakespeare's play by the "Christian Education" publisher was better than the original ending, "if the ending is as sad as you say it is."

At this point, I concluded that this was a person who deserved to go through the rest of her life "...safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive!" I bid her adieu.

After the conversation, I wondered, darkly, if that was to be the fate of Shakespeare, and all other literature if the happy-clappy people get their way - as harmless and "uplifiting" as a cheerleader's chant.

I wondered what these bowdlerizers would do with "Hamlet?" or worse, "Titus Andronicus" or "MacB-" Nothing wholesome, I'm sure. Oh, that's right, what they can't appropriate, they ban. Or burn.

In trying to protect children, we leave them undefended from "...the slings and arrows" that life will no doubt throw their way. Shakespeare raises the issues of tragedy - the fatal flaw, the last turning, the role of fate, as well or better than any author before or since. He is a gentle tutor, much to be preferred over that stern and dangerous teacher, Experientia Inopinatum.

But, as ever, it really isn't about the children. It's about the adults, and their desire to avoid answering difficult questions from agile young minds, who know no fear and swarm like eager flies around questions that have been boggling our best minds for millenia. To answer the questions that literature raises, you have to have thought deeply about them yourself. And that is something that few dare to do.] end id

#social issues #censorship #shakespeare #william shakespeare #schools #education

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muddyorbsblr · 6 months

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bigger than the whole sky [rtc what if…?]

'relinquish the crown' masterlist See my full list of works here!

BE WARNED SPOILERS FOR THE LOKI SEASON 2 FINALE AHEAD

Summary: What if…you'd broken Frigga's memory spell without Loki? | Your search for your husband leads you to a peculiar void beyond the Nine Realms, to a place that vaguely resembles the Tree of Life that you'd only read about in historical texts.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: angst with no happy ending in sight; this is in the RTC universe so…themes of incest if you squint; Loki S2 finale spoilers; slight violence in the beginning [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: gonna repeat it again…Loki S2 finale spoilers ahead; no prior reading of RTC is required to suffer enjoy reading this story

"I will ask you one final time, you sadistic hedonist," you panted, taking a moment to lean on Stormbreaker while the eccentric tyrannical leader of Sakaar laid bleeding on the ground. One hand clutched his abdomen where you'd struck him, the other gingerly held his broken nose.

This wasn't something that you enjoyed doing, putting others through pain. But knowing Loki's history with this Grandmaster long before you two had met was easing your worry somehow that you were doing something reprehensible. There were pains that your beloved, even after all the time you'd known each other prior to your betrothal and marriage, were not quite ready to share with you.

His time in Sakaar was among those pains.

That knowledge alone was enough to get you to stop catching your breath, marching over to the Grandmaster and pinning him to the ground with the end of your battle axe's handle.

"Where is Loki?"

"Lady, I already told you back in the viewing box, I haven't seen your u--Agh!" You pressed Stormbreaker's handle harder against a tender spot on his shoulder, his body visibly showing signs of surrender before he started tapping on the floor. "Alright I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whined.

"Shall we try this again, then?" He did his best to nod his head, sighing heavily. "Where did you last see him?"

"I swear to you on my Champion's grave it's been millions of years for me here in Sakaar," he choked out, still audibly struggling to draw in his breath. "It was a time he didn't even know you yet. You probably hadn't even been born."

"So you truly bear no knowledge of my husband's whereabouts?"

"Your hus--I thought he was--"

"Mind your words, charlatan god." He let out another groan of pure agony as you pressed harder on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry! I--I really don't know where he is, Your Highness, I don't--"

"Then what use are you to me," you said darkly, another corner of your soul feeling ass if the lights had gone out. Another dead end.

You took a dagger out with your free hand, the Grandmaster's pleas of mercy sounding muffled as they fell on your dulled ears. Nothing he had to say could spare him now; to you, he was no longer a lead, a well lit path that could perhaps point you to where Loki had been all this time.

Now he was simply a shadow of your husband's past. Something so dark that he didn't even dare let you know about it.

Despair began to seep into your veins, a single question overtaking all other remotely coherent thought. Would you ever find him? Would you ever get to apologize? To tell him how you felt? How you'd always felt?

Before you could strike, a loud crack resounded throughout the Grandmaster's suite, coming from a glowing green portal that appeared in the center of the room.

"I would probably take that call, if I were you," the Grandmaster quipped, exhaling a large sigh of relief when you removed the weight of Stormbreaker off of him as you stepped toward the portal. Once the threshold had begun to close after you stepped through, he let out a final sentiment. "Please say hello to your husband for me when you find him."

That was more than enough for you to decide throwing your dagger into the small opening that remained, hitting the smug anachronistic bastard on his uninjured shoulder.

Then the portal finally closed, leaving you in a place you couldn't quite describe. All you knew was that it felt like a place you should never have been allowed access to. A place that should be beyond you. Beyond anyone.

Winding, glowing vines surrounded you, each of them looked and sounded as if they were teeming with a life of its own. If you listened carefully you could hear voices. Your voices. Infinite iterations of them. But one rang clearer than every other in the entire space.

"Did I do something that angered the Norns so fiercely that they condemned me to love a man I could never have?"

"I know what it feels like to kiss him. To touch him. To be desired by him. And it's ripping me apart to know that I will never know that again."

"The people will look at this union and see it for what it is. Sinful. Shameful!"

You tried to block the memories out of your mind, of you begging your grandmother Queen Frigga to lock your memories away. Of arguing with your grandfather Odin and with your father Thor because they were signing your life away to marry Loki. Of the harsh words you spat at them all behind closed doors.

Of the day the lock on your mind finally broke, after finding your journals prior to the spell being cast chronicling how you'd fallen for the god despite your better judgment. The head-splitting agony of your memories reconciling and finding their place back in your mind.

An agony suffered in your lonesome while Loki was away on assignment.

You scrambled desperately to think of anything else, to follow along the path of the vines and hear something other than your own mistakes being echoed back at you. These desperate attempts made you realize that the vines converged in a structure that eerily resembled an image that you'd only learned about in your youth.

"Yggdrasil?" you whispered in awe, your feet bringing you closer still until you found a parting just large enough for one to squeeze through.

Once you'd finally freed yourself from the winding vines, all air left your lungs at the sight that greeted you. A golden throne at the heart of the tree. All the vines anchored to the man -- or God, rather -- seated in it.

Loki.

"You've left quite a trail of bodies in your wake throughout this quest of yours, little Princess," he spoke, not moving even a fraction from where he sat.

He gave you a soft smile, tears beginning to form in his eyes as he stared at you. As if he couldn't believe you were here with him.

"It's been too long, my darling wife."

You'd rehearsed time and time again throughout your search for your husband what you would say to him once you'd been reunited. You would tell him how wrong you were for how you behaved throughout your betrothal, your marriage. And you would abandon every shred of your pride and beg for his forgiveness. You would tell him you loved him, that you'd always loved him.

And that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

Yet somehow you could form none of those words. Instead you finally felt your body succumb to the tiredness brought about by the centuries you'd spent searching and laying waste to every imaginable corner of the Nine Realms and beyond for even the slightest shred of a clue as to where he could have been.

Instead you sunk to your knees, the tears streaming down your face as you stumbled over your words. "I remember everything. I had to find you. Tell you that I'm--"

"I know you are, my love. I watched you on the day the spell broke, the day you finally remembered. I wanted so desperately to come home to you. To not let you have to endure that pain alone."

"Why didn't you?" you blurted out, staring at all the vines he held in his hands. "What are all these?"

"Timelines," he answered you simply, giving you a minuscule shrug of his shoulders. "In every single one, there is an iteration of you and me. Some circumstances may differ, minor details. But at the heart of each of them, we live a life together. We find each other, fall in love. In some we even start a family."

"A family," you repeated breathlessly. The knowledge that each vine -- each timeline -- that was anchored to him held a variation of you and him, of your story, began to eat away at you, flooding you with guilt.

How wretched did you have to be that in your timeline you'd rejected him? Foolishly pushed him away with every mistake you made until finally it took you centuries to find him again?

"What happened?" you finally spoke after what felt like hours. "How did you get--"

"That is quite the long and harrowing tale, darling. In truth, it was a cavalcade of miscalculations and bad judgment calls, failed attempts of trying to save all these lives until I realized that the result would always stay the same if the equation contained the same variables."

"And what was that result?"

"Annihiliation," he answered you simply, giving you a misty eyed look. "Every single strand of time that I hold safe now would have been obliterated on sight. I know it. I've seen it. I've seen you disintegrate before me too many times than I wish to count. The device that once held them stable could no longer scale for an infinite number of possibilities, and letting countless timelines die in the name of the survival of a few was…unacceptable. The only thing that could carry a burden that great was--"

"A god," you finished, the words fighting you their entire way out, nearly choking you on the weight of them. The question that you wished to raise crippled you with its answer's implications. For you and your timeline specifically. "What happens if you let go?"

"It dies. Slowly. Drifts away until it eventually turns to ash." He began to make a motion, as if to approach you, until ultimately he decided against it. "This was the only way. It remains the only way. I must stay, and keep them safe. Watch our lives play out in derivatives of what ifs."

The selfish question that danced at the tip of your tongue plagued you with even more guilt. But what about my timeline? What about our life together? "There has to be another way," you grumbled, stubbornly shaking your head as if you were once again a toddler, refusing to accept the world for being what it was rather than what you wished it would be. "I could stay with you. I could stay and we can find a way together."

Your heart splintered watching him shake his head at you. "My beautiful headstrong wife," he breathed out, his tone filled with both fondness and heartbreak. "I can't in my good conscience let you abandon your life just so you could stay here with me. That would be too selfish, even for me. What would you have here?"

"You! I would have you. All these centuries I've spent in a desperate scramble to find you and tell you that I lo--" You found yourself completely choking on the words now, never having to articulate them before. "That I love you. That I've always loved you and I want us to start our lives together. I refuse to accept that after all this time I have to let you go. You can't make me."

"Asgard needs you, its future Queen."

"And I need you!" Your voice finally broke, sobs that you'd fought inside starting to bubble up. "It isn't fair that you hold all these different tellings of our story in your hands, but your story, yours and mine, ends in us apart. That you spend your days here, watching our life play out somewhere and somewhen else, and you're alone. Please don't send me away, husband," you began to beg. "Don't make me leave you. Let me stay."

He let out a sharp exhale, a tear escaping his eye, rolling down his cheek. "I've longed for the day I would hear you call me that," he sighed, a rueful smile gracing the handsome features that you were bereft of for centuries. "Truly I didn't think I would ever see you again, Y/N. My Y/N. I never thought that I would have you before me, and I hear those words you would only say in dreams with my own ears. Thank you, my dear heart. You have given me a gift in this quest of yours, in having a final moment with the woman I love…" More tears rolled down his cheeks when his smile widened before finishing his sentiment. "And the woman that loves me."

Your sobs filled the endless space, your body collapsing onto the ground as your grief overtook you. The notion of grieving for the living never seemed sensical to you until now. Now that the man, the god, you loved was calling this the last time you would ever see each other.

And you knew in your heart that with the power he wielded now, he could make that your reality without even lifting a finger. He could push you out of this void and back into any timeline of his choosing just as easily as he pulled you out of Sakaar.

The feel of familiar large hands pulling you up to your feet startled you, only having the briefest moment to look at your husband before he pulled you into a crushing embrace. You didn't think twice before wrapping your arms around him, holding him as close as you could and sobbing into his shoulder before realizing…

If his hands were on you, then why were the vines still in place?

"Loki," you sobbed. "Husband, please. No illusions."

"I can't hold you," he said, choking back his own sobs now. "I couldn't watch you break like this and do nothing." The duplicate he cast to hold you disappeared from your hold in a flash of green. "I've done it before against all my better judgment, I refuse to do it again."

"Then don't." Against your own better judgment, you stomped your foot, like a bratty child being told you had to go home. Which was almost precisely what this was. "If this is where you are and where you will remain, then this is where I wish to stay. With the god that owns my heart. With my husband." You blinked rapidly to expel the tears that blurred your vision before uttering the words that splintered at your heart even more. "I was made to be yours. You said that."

"And I yours," he finished, averting his gaze, letting his own tears drop to the fabric of his trousers. "In every timeline. We must take solace in knowing that among these infinite tales, one is ours. What could have been ours."

"What should be ours," you insisted. You made your way over to him, placing your hand on the side of his face. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, the sight breaking your heart further. "Our story deserves its bliss-laden epilogue, too."

"Not at the cost of everyone else's. Deep down you know this to be true."

"That does not mean I accept it," you grumbled. "Let me stay."

"You know that I can't. I will not subject you to live out the rest of your days here. Without friends nor family, and only a husband that cannot even hold you as company."

"But at least you would have someone to hold you," you argued, throwing your arms around him and letting your tears flow once more. "I can't just leave you here all on your own. You can't make me." You knew that he damn right could.

"My love," he sighed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. "I wish for you to live a long, and fulfilled life. You've lost so much time in your search for me only for it to end like this. I can give you those centuries back, as a final gift. Reverse the clock, undo the toll it took on you. Let this be the final token of my affection. My fealty. My undying vow."

"Let me keep my memories," you pleaded, already feeling that this would truly be your final moments with him. You did not need to turn your gaze to know that the portal leading back to Asgard was there, waiting for you. Perhaps he would simply nudge you through with his mind, knowing that you would refuse to leave. "Let me keep my remnants of you if that is all that I can leave this place with."

He nodded once. "Very well, little Princess. When you walk through the portal only the physical years will be stripped away. Live well, and remember always that I love you. My heart will only ever belong to you. Until the end of time."

"I love you," you choked out through your tears. "Husband." Your heart ached at the sight of his tears, not bothering to fight back the urge to kiss them away. "I will miss you desperately and always. In every step that I must take in this life without you."

"You will always have me by your side," he swore. "When you feel a presence you cannot see, in gentle breezes within a still room. I will always be there."

You continued to wipe his tears away, the god constantly kissing at your palms. Seemingly refusing to let you go, too.

"May I kiss you?" you asked, barely audibly, your voice unable to even completely form the words. "One last time?"

He gave you a small nod, and you leaned in to press your lips to his, trying to pour out your years of lost time and the future that you were doomed to lose in just a few short moments into that single kiss. You could feel that when he kissed you back, he did so with both all the love he'd never been able to give you before, and the love that he would never be able to bestow in the future.

It was a kiss of finality. A kiss of goodbye. A bittersweet final page in the story of you and Loki.

I love you more than words can ever say, his voice echoed in your mind. Goodbye, my love. My fated. My darling wife.

When you pulled away he was gone. And you'd been returned to your shared chambers back in Asgard. As he promised, the physical toll the centuries-long search had taken on your body were gone. No more scars from miscalculated skirmishes. No more bruises from Sakaar.

No more physical reminders of what you'd endured trying to reunite with the love your life.

All that remained were the memories of those years, and your time in his domain beyond the Realms.

"Goodbye, my darling husband. My love. My Loki," you whispered into the quiet of your marital chambers, sinking to your knees once more and letting out a shriek of pure agony, the sobs swiftly returning and wracking your entire body as you lay pathetically on the floor.

"Y/N??"

The sound of your mother Lady Sif's voice provided little comfort, but it felt like a familiar balm. "Mother," you said weakly, unmoving from your spot on the ground even as she rushed to you, cradling you in her lap.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" She stroked your hair while your tears soaked her sleep dress. You felt her wave someone over, and moments later you felt your grandmother Queen Frigga's presence in the room with you.

"I lost. I lost and I know not what to do now," you managed to say through your tears.

"What did you lose, Daughter?"

You'd briefly considered explaining your journey, from breaking the spell, to your journey through the centuries, to Loki's domain beyond the reach of space and time. To relay what had become of your husband.

Ultimately the words were beyond you due to your grief.

"Everything," you answered her, holding on to her tight as if you were a child again. This would be the only semblance of comfort you would have. "I lost everything."

A/N: I had to after that finale had me processing and feeling the big sad all day, I promise I'm working on 2 other stories based on the finale that have kinda better endings.

Also I sobbed throughout writing this entire thing, just for the record.

Now here's the song to add to the vibe:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #loki angst #loki laufeyson angst #muddyorbs writes #Spotify

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liliacamethyst · 8 days

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Ok but, an alternate universe where Miguel constantly feels the need to show off Gabriel and maaaaaaaaybe competes with Peter B. about who's kid is cuter

Mayday vs Baby Gabe

In an alternate universe, Miguel and Peter found themselves in a never ending competition to prove who had the cutest and most talented child.

It all started when Peter casually mentioned that his daughter, Mayday, already knew how to talk at just one year old. Normally, Miguel wasn't like that, but something in Miguel clicked, and he felt an irresistible urge to show off his son, Gabriel. The rivalry escalated quickly from there.

One sunny afternoon, as the two families picnicked in the park, Peter pulled out his phone to show a video of Mayday reciting the alphabet flawlessly. Not to be outdone, Miguel, his muscles subtly flexing as he reached into his own pocket, presented a clip of Gabriel, barely two, solving simple puzzles with a focused frown that mirrored his father’s usual stern expression. However, the grumpy facade melted into a warm smile as Gabriel clapped his tiny hands together, clearly proud of his achievement.

"Well, the puzzle-solving is cute, but it doesn't really scream 'spider,' if you ask me," Peter said with a playful eye roll, always enjoying teasing Miguel. He noticed that whenever he annoyed Miguel a bit, a vein in Miguel's neck would start to throb—a sight Peter found amusing.

"Mayday's spider sense is unbeatable. She was born to be Spider-Man in every universe." "Aye Peter, have you seen how gracefully Gabriel swings? He's a fucking natural!" Miguel boasted, unable to resist the opportunity to show off.

"Oh yeah? Watch this!" He held out his hand, and Mayday gracefully swung from tree to tree using her web-slinging abilities. "Now that’s impressive, huh?""Well, that's nothing compared to Gabriel's web-swinging technique. Watch this!" Miguel activated his own web-shooters and swung through the air with Gabriel securely strapped to his chest.

"Oh, really, you wanna play like that Mig? Well, you should see Mayday's incredible agility. She swings like a pro,"Peter shot back, a playful smirk on his face. Miguel chuckled darkly with that playful glint in his eyes, not one to back down. "Well, Gabriel can already crawl up walls effortlessly. It's like he was born to be a little Spider-Man."

Now it was Peters turn to raise an eyebrow. "Is that so? Mayday can stick to any surface with ease. She's got the Spidey skills down pat."

„“Alright, Peter that’s it! Let’s settle this once and for all. We'll have a Spider-Man costume contest for our little ones. Whoever wins gets the title of 'Cutest Spider-Kid.'" ☀️🕷️

#miguel ohara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #comics #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spider man x reader #spider man #sunnyverse #sunny

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critical-quoter · 3 months

Text

All I know for sure is that we have a story. Ours is not a love story - we're too volatile, too explosive for monotony. No, our story comes with a warning. Beware.

Born, Darkly - Trisha Wolfe

#book #books #booklr #book lover #book quotes #reading #literature #lit #quote #novel #born darkly #Trisha wolfe

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Text

Pretty When You Cry.

Joel realises his morals are fucked. You realise you like it.

Pairing - Joel Miller x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Lots of cursing, sexual content, mentions of prostitution

Word Count - 1750

Author's Note - oh boy. buckle in. i love when a character has a messed up moral compass and is a little rough and jagged around the edges. i also love lana del rey. hence, this joel fic was born. please enjoy.

Masterlist. Requests.

“Stupid fuckin’ girl,” Joel spits at you.

You flinch and step backwards, trying to escape what is inevitably going to be a brutal verbal assault. The older man watches your every move and chuckles darkly.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Nowhere, is the answer. You’re down a dark alleyway in the QZ, a barely lit back street. Even if you run, you’ll just end up circling back around. You’re walled in – both literally and figuratively.

Joel moves towards you, his large frame making you want to shrink away instinctively. He towers over you, broad shoulders blocking your view.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

You weren’t, is the issue.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Joel has been desperate for a car battery for weeks. A few days ago, you’d overheard a guy talking about smuggling spare parts. You’d set up a covert meeting, and asked if he could get you what you needed. He’d told you he could – for a price. It didn’t matter that the currency was you. You’d do what you needed to do. For Joel.

You’d made your way to meet him tonight. His name was Pete, you were pretty sure. He was a sleaze, a real piece of work - but he had connections. He had people working for him, could practically get you anything if you asked nicely and promised to pay.

You had nothing to your name. No one did, these days. You knew you couldn’t pay Pete with alcohol, or cigarettes, or drugs. No, you’d give him something else. You’d give him you. An offer which he eagerly accepted.

He wanted you to pay before he’d give you the battery. You’d argued, but it was no use. You didn’t want to make him angry – it’d only make it worse.

So there you were. He had backed you against the wall of this very alleyway, demanding you take off your shirt. Just as you were lifting the hem over your head, Pete hit the ground.

You looked up to see Joel, more furious than you’d ever seen him before. He’d punched Pete in the head and knocked him out cold.

“What the actual fuck are you doing?” he hissed.

“Well I was doing you a favour. Not anymore, apparently,” you hissed back.

“A favour? You’re whoring yourself out as a favour?”

“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat, turning on your heel to leave.

Joel grabbed your wrist and pulled you backwards with force, taking no care whatsoever. You were worried he was going to snap your arm, the way he was clutching it.

“Stupid fuckin’ girl.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“Are you even listenin’ to me? What the fuck were you thinking?”

He’s looking at you pointedly, clearly expecting some sort of explanation. You’re not really sure what to say. When you don’t answer, he takes another few steps forward, intimidating you until your back is pressed against the rough brick of the wall.

Joel grabs your chin between his fingers and forces you to look at him. His fury hasn’t subsided – you can still feel it rolling off of him in waves. He’s buzzing with adrenaline, the electricity of it infectious, seeping into your pores.

“You better have a damn good reason as to why I just watched you take your shirt off for Pete fuckin’ Davis.”

He spits the man’s name like it tastes disgusting in his mouth. It makes you smirk slightly.

“You think this is funny? Huh?” Joel asks, squeezing your face tighter. You shake your head, not once breaking eye contact with him. He stares you down for a minute before releasing his grip.

“He has a battery,” you explain quietly. “He’s been selling spare parts. Said he could get me what you need if we cut a deal. It’s a small price to pay, Joel.”

“That is not a small price.”

The genuineness of it makes you wince.

The thing is, Joel doesn’t usually care about this kind of stuff. He’s not exactly an upstanding citizen, having made his fair share of dumb deals and below the belt exchanges. He’s usually the one encouraging you to break the rules a little, if it means you both benefit.

Above all, you are convinced that Joel doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about anyone, not really. You know that he and Tess have this ambiguous sort of partnership - friendship at a complete stretch. But that’s it. Joel doesn’t care.

So why is he so furious?

His rage has infected you now. You’re exasperated, sick of the mixed signals. You and Joel were partners in crime, acquaintances at most. It didn’t matter that when he looked at you, the whole world fell away. It didn’t matter than when you heard his voice, time stopped temporarily. It didn’t matter that he was the last thing you thought about at night and the first thing you thought about in the morning. None of it mattered.

“Why do you fucking care, Joel?” you spit, shoving at his chest. His scent is suffocating you, making it hard to think. You need to put some distance between you before you do something reckless.

“Why do I care? Why do I fuckin’ care?” he practically yells at your face. “Are you that stupid?”

“Stop calling me stupid!” you retaliate. “I’m smarter than every damn person in this place!”

“Smart enough to turn to prostitution?”

That word makes you scoff.

“It wasn’t like that. It would have been a one time thing. A quick payment.”

“That’s not a fuckin’ payment! That’s the one thing you shouldn’t fuck around with!”

You can tell he’s genuinely upset, but you’re not sure why. It’s none of his business what you choose to do with your body.

“I was doing this for you, asshole! He would have given me the battery, and you could have gone and found Tommy. I did this for you,” you yell, shoving him as hard as you can. He doesn’t move.

“Keep your fuckin’ voice down,” he hisses.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“God damn it! You never fuckin’ listen, do you? How stupid are you, huh?”

Joel takes a heavy step forward, one hand reaching out to wrap around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, just keeps it there, holding you in place. Right where he wants you.

His eyes darken, still alight with fury. He smells like smoke and musk and sweat and spearmint toothpaste. You want to lick the exposed skin of his neck to see if he’d taste the same.

He leans in, almost bumping your nose with his.

“We don’t fuck around with that stuff, alright?” he murmurs. “I’ve seen pretty girls like you get hurt real bad for a lot less. You can’t let them treat you as any less than human.”

You’ve never heard him this sincere. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“Why do you care, Joel?” you whisper. “I’m just as disposable to you as I am to the rest of them.”

He pauses, and you can see the cogs turning in his head. He’s still holding you by the neck, his other hand coming around to tangle in the back of your hair. He’s looking at you so intently that you feel your bravado start to waiver. Your bottom lip quivers, and your eyes begin to well up. A drop runs down your cheek, and the dam breaks.

He’s never seen you get upset like this. You’re trying to stay stoic, but the tears are falling freely, dripping down your face.

This is the moment Joel realises that he’s a changed man. He’s known for years that his morals aren’t what they used to be. They can’t be, not in this world. He’s murdered, robbed, tortured, kidnapped. His moral compass was broken a long time ago. But the change has never dawned on him, until now. He’s holding you roughly, watching you try not to sob, and he doesn’t feel sad. He doesn’t feel sympathy, or regret, or remorse. No. He feels a sick sense of arousal. He’s turned on.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, looking at you carefully. Your lip quivers again, and his resolve breaks completely. He’s surprised he doesn’t hear it shatter.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you cry.”

With that, he’s surging forward, dipping his head to lick at your tear stained cheeks. Your sadness is salty and sweet and real. He’s hooked.

Joel presses forward and kisses you harshly. His hand tightens in your hair, yanking you closer to him. He presses your bodies together, and the warmth of him makes your head spin.

You’re still crying as you moan into his mouth. He’s rough and careless and you want more. He groans, and presses you backwards into the wall, the brick scratching up your back. Everything is blurry for the both of you. He’s grabbing at you, groping anything he can find. He’s searching for skin, hands making their way up and under your shirt. You know how risky it is, making out with Joel in a back alley in the middle of the QZ. You don’t care. Neither of you do. You’re drunk on each other and it’s clouding your judgment.

“You like it when I’m mean to you, honey?” he murmurs, voice jagged and low. He’s kissing at your neck, nipping the skin and leaving purple bruises in his wake.

“Yeah, Joel, fuck. I love it,” you whine. “I love you.”

The both of you freeze at your confession. You’re honestly not sure if you mean it, or if it’s just the heat of the moment. It doesn’t matter now. You’ve said it, and you can’t take it back.

“You think you do,” he mutters against your throat. “But love doesn’t exist in this world. Not anymore.”

You both pause, heavy breaths filling the air. After a while, you break the silence.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you whisper. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.”

You’re not sure whether you’re apologising for loving him, or admitting it, or for the events of the evening. You’re just sorry.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs gently against your mouth as he kisses you again. “Don’t be sorry.”

He takes you up against the red brick wall, legs wrapped around his waist and arms tangled around his neck. Your back is cut and bleeding, throat sore and pulsing where he’s bitten you. He makes you come twice before he finishes himself, teeth sinking into your shoulder, hands leaving prints on your hips.

Joel says that love doesn’t exist anymore. You think he’s wrong.

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 months

Text

chapter xxiv – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 4,000+

masterlist

Cassian continued swaying Y/N around after her confession. He could tell she was panicking, and knew she didn’t want to have a breakdown here and now. So, he distracted her, twirling her unnecessarily around until she was laughing and telling him to cut it out through her giggles.

“We miss you in the Night Court,” Cassian said through a smile, but along with sad eyes she could not miss.

“I miss it, too.” However, there was more to say and he caught it.

“But?” He urged.

“But Autumn feels like…” Y/N dared not finish.

“Like home?” Cassian offered gently.

She shook her head. “The Mortal Lands are my home, Cassian.”

He sighed. “Sometimes homes change, Y/N.”

Then the Illyrians gaze settled on someone over her shoulder.

She turned to see Helion Spell-Cleaver politely standing near them with his hands clasped behind his back.

The High Lord stood tall. His wide and muscular torso was on display from the drapery of his white and gold robes. And his onyx hair was more voluminous and shiny than any woman’s she’d ever seen. In it was his gold, halo crown and band that proved his power and position. He was a beautiful male, that was indisputable.

“High Lord Helion,” Cassian bowed his head in greeting. Though he was not his High Lord, he was still above him in power.

Helion nodded to the General, then bowed to Y/N as if she were Lady of Autumn. “I was hoping for a dance with the female of the night.”

Y/N expected to look at Cassian and find a warning glare on his face. But he seemed only amused. Perhaps she didn’t know Helion as well as she realized and misjudged his intentions at the High Lord meeting where she was interrogated. Perhaps this was actually the male that Leonora had secretly loved for so long.

A small growl came from the floor. Y/N looked down to see Ronan giving another warning growl to Helion as he stood between him and Y/N.

She couldn’t help but giggle at her tiny and brave fox. “Ronan, relax.”

The fox turned to look up at her and stopped growling immediately.

“Go to Eris,” she commanded him softly.

The fox whimpered as he hesitated, before eventually trotting over to Eris on the other side of the room. He plopped his butt down at the High Lord’s feet, but protectively watched her, prepared to come to her defense if she should need him.

Y/N stepped away from her friend and toward the High Lord carefully.

“Behave, Helion,” Cassian warned playfully, but quietly enough that only the three of them would catch it. “Though I would enjoy watching Eris take you on if you do not.”

A new song started and Helion guided them around the floor.

“Is this a game of some sort?” Y/N asked him with clear suspicion.

“I assure you it is not, Lady Y/N.” Helion smiled down at her. “I fear we got off on the wrong foot. But I see now that I judged you too harshly.”

“You fae are distrusting creatures,” she teased darkly as they continued to spin.

He chuckled. “A life if immortality makes us weary of new beings, especially ones who are as subtly powerful as you are.”

Y/N frowned at that. Not knowing the true strength of her new power was unsettling to her and it haunted her most nights.

Helion’s voice lowered and his mouth moved closer to her ear as he said, “Between the two of us, I must confess that my interrogation came from a selfish place.”

Then Y/N caught his gaze flicker to Leonora for hardly a second. If she had blinked, she would’ve missed it.

“I only wanted to make sure the people of Autumn Court were not in danger,” Helion lied quietly.

“Why do you not go to her?” Y/N whispered.

“It is my shame.”

Her eyes squinted in confusion.

“You have not been in Prythian long, Y/N. And you were lucky to only know Beron for the last moments of his existence.” His eyes glazed over as his mind raced through the past of his immortal life. “You do not know the torture she endured. And through it all, I stood back and let it happen. I should have saved her. I should have killed Beron myself.”

“But you are High Lord of Day, it would have started a war. And you would have lost so many lives of your Court.”

Helion’s amber eyes darkened almost to a brown. “What good is power if it cannot be used to protect the ones we love?”

Y/N didn’t know how to answer that. She was not familiar with having the powers that he possessed. But she had now been around enough High Lords to recognize that such strength did not come without its consequences.

“I do not deserve her forgiveness or love,” Helion finished. “You do not know what it is like to see the female you love lose the light from her eyes, all while being treated like nothing more than a breeder.”

Y/N allowed herself to watch Leonora for a moment, who spoke to various courtiers of Autumn, with a polite smile on her lips.

“Do not underestimate how much light you could bring back to her eyes,” she muttered. “I do not think she believes there is anything to forgive. I think she only worries, after all this time, that there might not be a second chance for you both.”

Helion gave her a grateful grin. “You have given me hope for Autumn, Y/N. Perhaps you could visit Day Court soon with your mate, and together we could repair the gap between our two courts.”

Y/N couldn’t meet his gaze as she answered, “I have not accepted the bond…"

Perhaps she shouldn’t be sharing such information to another High Lord. She didn’t know why she confessed it so quickly and easily.

Helion’s brow furrowed. “And do you not plan to do so?”

Y/N looked around, trying to buy herself time on her response.

“Forgive me,” he quickly added. "It is none of my concern.”

Then, as if trying to change the subject, Helion locked eyes on Nesta, who pretended to be annoyed with Cassian’s obvious and heavy flirting. Everyone knew they were claimed mates, so Y/N didn’t know why she tortured him in such a way.

“Though, before tonight ends, I should once again attempt to convince those two in joining one of my parties…”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’ve heard all about your bedroom habits. Which seems like a strange way to reconcile with your lost lover…”

To her surprise, Helion looked guilty from her call out. “It is much easier to forget about lost love and a broken heart when you preoccupy yourself with endless lust.”

“I will confess,” Y/N began with a mischievous smile. “Us Valkyries are desperate to pet one of your Pegasus. Nesta has threatened to proposition both her and her mate to do so. Though I do not recommend taking her up on the offer if you care for Leonora as you say.”

Helion smiled as he found Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie gossiping and giggling in a corner with empty glasses of wine.

The High Lord of Day stepped away from Y/N and bowed his head slightly to her. “It has been an honor, Lady Y/N.”

Then Y/N was alone on the dance floor. And she quickly made her escape before another male could ask her to dance.

There were two giant doors open to the gardens outside. Suddenly, fresh air seemed like the best thing for her.

Y/N took in the garden before her. Across the pond, the autumn trees glowed with the yellowish faelight floating amongst the branches. To her left, was a fountain surrounded by the red and orange fallen leaves of the court. To her right, was a stone and metal temple that stepped directly into the pond – and Y/N made her way to that.

The wind brushed around her, giving her a delicate touch to her cheek.

Y/N gave a small smile at the companionship.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

The voice behind her made Y/N jump. “You frightened me.”

The male was tall and spindly. He did not have the powerful muscle that Eris, or any of her male fae friends, possessed.

He did not apologize for scaring her, nor did he look even slightly guilty for it.

“May I ask your name?” Y/N continued, looking around them and noting that it was just the two of them outside.

“Muiris,” was all he provided as he took steps toward her.

“Nice to meet you, Muiris. I am Y/N.”

“I know who you are,” he answered back too quickly and harshly.

Y/N blinked at the rudeness.

He stepped past her and looked at the large pond before them, hands clasped behind his back. “This particular garden was built centuries ago. So long ago, in fact, that most in this Court were not even alive to remember a time before it existed.”

Y/N got the feeling he didn’t care if she responded or not. So she remained quiet.

He turned to look her up and down. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, seeing as you are not of fae blood,” he snipped.

She openly glared at him now.

This male was clearly no friend, Autumn courtier or not.

“How did you do it?” He hissed suddenly.

“Do what?” But her instincts were telling her to take a step back and get away from him.

He only moved closer. “Those of us whom still have our wits about us know your game. You have bewitched Eris Vanserra, convinced him to kill his own father. And you will kill him next. I have known witches in my time, and good they are not. Your kind is only capable of evil. And I will not stand by and watch Autumn fall into your clutches.”

Before Y/N could even wrap her mind around his words, the male unsheathed a dagger from some hidden place on his body.

She was quick though, shooting to the side and unsheathing her own knife strapped to her thigh.

But before she could even raise it in defense, an arrow flew from behind her and hit her attacker squarely in the wrist that held his weapon.

Y/N whipped around to see a Autumn guard had released the arrow, and he was now calling out orders and warnings to his comrades.

Though Muiris had cried out in pain and dropped the dagger, he wasn’t weak enough to abandon his mission.

But as he lunged for her once again, a gust of wind hit him so hard that he was flown backward into the pond.

Y/N blinked and she was surrounded by nearly twenty Autumn soldiers who circled her protectively.

A whip of fire burst out of nowhere and dragged Muiris out of the water by his ankle, scraping his body across the harsh stone steps.

Y/N turned to see Eris slowly walking toward the male.

While his composure was calm, she could only see the fire and rage in his gaze and posture.

A whimper came from below her. Ronan had found her and was pawing at her legs in distress.

Without thinking, Y/N bent to pick him up. She held him as if he was her anchor. And in return, the fox kit licked her face repeatedly.

“I always knew you were a fool, Muiris,” Eris growled. Then he bent to pick up the dagger he’d dropped. It was then that Y/N realized it was made of iron – a witch’s ultimate weakness. “But your stupidity has reached a new low.”

With a snap of his finger, Muiris was shot onto his feet by an invisible power. And flames erupted at his feet, climbing up his body. The male screamed in agony, but he was inflicting pain, not death. Eris was keeping him alive…for now.

“The witch has cast spells on you, High Lord!”

Eris lashed out to grip the males throat, his hand looking more like a demon's talons than human. “Is that so?” He hissed, his tone alone belittling such an accusation.

Muiris gasped for breath. “I only…tried to do what is…best for Autumn Court.”

“I am what is best for Autumn Court,” Eris growled as his grip tightened around Muiris' throat. “And she is what is best for me.”

Y/N then realized they had an audience. Cassian, Rhysand, and Feyre rushed outside to see what was going on.

Muiris found Y/N’s eyes through the crowd. “She will…ruin us.”

Eris moved his face centimeters away from Muiris.

The High Lord's flames did not burn him like they did his victim, only dancing around his skin like they belonged to his body.

“She will save us all,” Eris whispered, but somehow Y/N could hear it clearly from where she stood.

“You are going to die now,” Eris added. But Muiris didn’t react until he added, “And you should know that everyone you brought with you tonight will die with you.”

The males eyes widened in panic. “B-But my son…my son…he was not a part of this!”

“I do not trust such a defense, especially one from your mouth. However, if it is true, then his punishment will simply be his relation to you. An attack on my mate is an attack on this court, and I will counter accordingly.”

Eris turned to look at her. And for half a second, the fire in his gaze blew out.

Then he looked at the soldiers who surrounded his mate. “Escort Y/N back to her chambers.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but she knew better than to challenge Eris so publicly. And then she realized she had no idea what to even say, because there was not a single part of her that wished to spare this male’s life.

So she let the small army escort her back inside.

Rhysand, Cassian, and Feyre all shared looks with her as she left.

The other High Lords and guests from there courts began winnowing their exits.

You should go, Y/N spoke to both Feyre’s and Rhysand’s minds. I am safe here. But Eris will not rest until his wrath is released.

He is only protecting you, Rhysand defended Eris surprisingly. I would do the same for my mate. And his eyes flickered to Feyre’s.

You say the word and we will bring you right back to Night Court, Feyre answered back softly.

But the nobles and courtiers of Autumn remained standing. They watched with disgust – not at Eris’ reckoning, but at Muiris’ actions. Clearly, they did not stand with his beliefs toward their new High Lord and his mate.

Y/N had been escorted back inside.

Half a dozen fae were on their knees with fiery cages keeping them from moving: Muiris’ companions. Eris’ smoke hounds had already been dispatched, guarding each of them as an extra precaution. They growled menacingly with their tales pointed in the air. Not even Y/N’s presence distracted them from their task.

It wasn’t until Y/N was in the hallway that she heard the screams and the sound of fire burning flesh.

She knew Eris burned them slowly.

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

Y/N paced in front of the fireplace in her bedchambers.

There would be no sleep for her tonight. No one told her the Forest House was on lock down, but she heard the running in the hallways and the shouting of orders.

Y/N wanted to go to Eris, but she also didn’t want to get in the way.

If there was one pattern Y/N couldn’t ignore, it was that her endangerment caused Eris to go absolutely feral. She wondered if it it was terrible how little it scared her. The way he protected her so fiercely and without hesitation…it only lit a fire in Y/N’s body. No one – not even her coven – had defended her in such a way. Perhaps his manor of doing so would scream danger to others, but to Y/N…it only screamed love.

There was a knock on her door.

But Y/N’s heart didn’t jump in anxiety, unsure of who it could be.

Ronan awoke from his slumber near the giant fireplace to growl at the door and beat her to it.

But she immediately knew it was Eris, and she rushed to throw it open.

“Y/N,” Eris breathed.

She looked around and realized that all of the guards who had escorted her safely back to her chambers earlier had stayed and stood guard outside.

But that meant the two of them had an audience.

Without thinking, Y/N pulled the collar of his red, velvet tunic from the event that he had yet to take off. Even his armor was still in place.

Eris slammed the door behind him. “I had to secure the Forest House and hunt down any remnants of Muiris’ following.” The words rushed out as if he needed an excuse for keeping her waiting.

Then he grasped her shoulders and frantically looked over her body. She only wore her nightgown now, but could not care less about the propriety of her attire in his presence.

“My soldiers promised me you were unharmed,” Eris practically gasped. “But I…I had to be sure for myself.”

Y/N grasped his face gently. “Eris, I am fine,” she reassured him in a soft voice. “He did not even get a chance to touch me.”

He nodded, his heart finally calming from seeing for himself that his mate was fine. “Then I will return to my rooms.”

But they both knew he wanted to do nothing of the sorts.

Y/N quickly grabbed his hands. “Stay,” she muttered. “Please.”

Then, in an attempt to stop things from going too sobering, she added, “This was your room once, after all.”

Eris smirked. “Aye, and there is nothing but your scent here now.”

“I shall never truly understand the keen senses of the fae. You are far too open about how much you smell," she teased in return.

Eris fully smiled now. “Trust me when I say, your scent is nothing but delectable.”

Y/N’s face felt hot, even from such a strange compliment.

Ronan, annoyed that his sleep was interrupted, had relaxed once he realized it was Y/N’s mate at the door. He trotted back to curl into a ball again next to the crackling fire.

“Do you need help taking this off?” Y/N asked Eris, gesturing to his armor.

He brushed off the offer almost immediately, “I can manage.”

But Y/N ignored him, stepping toward him and beginning to unbuckle the heavy metal on his torso.

“Relax,” Y/N whispered into his ears as she stood behind him, noting how tense his shoulders were as she helped him.

The sound and feeling of her breath caused a rush to go down Eris’ spine.

Eventually, all of his armor and his cloak were politely collected into somewhat of a pile against the wall, leaving Eris in only his velvet arming coat.

Y/N glanced down at her state of undress and then quirked an eyebrow. “Now that will not be comfortable sleeping in.”

Eris narrowed his eyes and tried to hide his smirk as he took the last of his clothes off, leaving him only in black braise, briefs and no shirt.

Like every other time Eris’ chest was exposed, Y/N couldn’t help but stare.

There were scars across his skin, and Y/N wondered how many of them were from battle and how many of them were by the hand of his abusive father.

Without realizing it, Y/N’s fingers began tracing some of them.

“They healed long ago,” he explained softly, as if trying to comfort her.

Her only response was to grab his hand and slowly lead him to her bed.

Though the situation would appear to be leading to a certain intimacy, there was no promise of such an act. Eris didn’t want to ask that of her and risk scaring her away. No, all he wanted right now was to hold her in his arms and prove that his mate really was safe.

Y/N slipped under the covers of the bed first and pulled him in with her. But she stayed close, ignoring the other half of the bed behind her.

Carefully, she placed her head on his chest, her ear sitting right over his heart. Her left arm draped over his muscular torso.

The two of them just lay there for quite some time, only feeling each other and hearing the rustling of the trees outside with their dry, autumn leaves.

“Does my wrath frighten you?” Eris finally said so quietly that it felt like it came from a ghost within the room.

Y/N didn’t move from her place on his chest.

“Perhaps it should…” she eventually sighed, as her eyes drifted off. “But you have never scared me, Eris.”

“You are right: perhaps you should be frightened of me.” He takes in a shaky breath as his eyes stare up at the ceiling. “I am merciful. And that was what I promised myself I would be if I were to ever usurp my father, and live to rule Autumn.”

Then his gaze turned to look down at her.

She lifted her head in response.

“But I will become the villain when you are threatened. I will sacrifice what little good I have left in me to destroy any who dare hurt you, Y/N.”

This is the part where he expected her to run, to confess that he had gone too far and his words instilled fear in her finally.

Instead, Y/N reached up and caressed his cheek. “Then… let us hope it does not come to that.”

Quiet enveloped them once again.

Eris rubbed his hand up and down Y/N’s bicep.

Finally, she had the courage to ask what had truly haunted her from tonight’s events. “Does it not bother you…that there are those who think I have brought evil and deception to your court?”

“Why should I? If they truly cared for Autumn, they would have rebelled against Beron long ago. They are only attempting to test their new High Lord, to find my weakness and see how pliant they can make me.”

“But perhaps I do make you weak…” Y/N whispered so softly he almost didn’t hear it.

“That is far from the truth.” Eris’ voice was strong and now too loud for the quiet room.

And with it, his emotions made the flames of the all the candles in the room spike in height and glow.

“Before you arrived this evening, I was… struggling,” he admitted. “I can command an army to win any battle, gain my troops unmovable loyalty, and oversee this court to exceptional change. But making my people…like me.” He paused. “I had never considered that would be an obstacle during all my years of seeking to become High Lord.”

Y/N let him continue.

“Nearly all of Hewn City despises both Rhysand and Feyre," Eris added harshly. "Yet they do not let such opinions hinder them. What does it matter to be liked by such horrid beings?”

She couldn’t help but smirk. “We are not them, though. And both of them came to rule Night Court in much different manner than you.”

They both knew she was right. Losing a father and High Lord from horrors of war was far different than killing one’s father and usurping him. And Feyre…Feyre was fae. Though by magic and not birth, she would still grow more and more like those she protected in her court.

“It seems unfair to compare ourselves to them. We are…different.” Then her eyes dazed off as she noted that Eris most likely hoped that their love affair would blossom into something similar than those two now have. “I ask that you do not do it again.”

--------

OK OK OK. I am so fucking sorry that I was MIA for so fucking long. My life is....crazy. I'm currently trying to find a new job and I am also working on other personal projects. So I simply have not had the time nor the energy to write.

But please, please, please write a book report for this chapter. I think it will get me to keep in the creative space to write more chapters of this quickly.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

Text

Fallen || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!devil!reader Summary: When a young driver wants to make a deal with the devil to get his greatest desire you find yourself forgetting what side of Heaven and Hell you are on. Warnings: supernatural themes, mention of deaths (Jules, Hervé & Hubert), angst, fluff WC: 5k

F1 Masterlist || Bonus Scene

16th October 2013 The kid had no business standing at the crossroads. What could a boy need so desperately that he was willing to part with his soul for it? But it wasn’t your place to question, merely to answer.

The boy murmured to himself as he knelt on the gravel and started to dig with a pink trowel he had borrowed from his mothers gardening tools. The quiet mutterings brought you amusement as you thought of the surprise he would get when his doubt was proven wrong and you appeared.

He carefully followed the instructions inked on the page that had been torn from a very old book. He reached up to his dark hair with a small pocket knife and cut away a small patch before laying it in the hole he had made. Turning the knife on himself, he whined as he pricked the tip of his finger and squeezed it until three thick blood drops fell onto the strands of his hair.

You would usually laugh at the poor attempt of the incantation to call upon you but instead you sighed as you grew tired of the theatrics.

“What do you want, kid?”

A small shriek filled the night as he fell back on his ass. “But…but…you…but…”

“Shit, you’re not even old enough to talk properly,” you said as you knelt down to his height. “Go home.”

His mouth snapped closed before scrambling to his feet and wiping the dust that covered his jeans. “Sorry, you gave me a fright. I was expecting…” he looked around and frowned, “never mind. Do you need help?”

“No, do you?”

He looked genuinely concerned as he searched the dark road and you tipped your head to the side before you remembered that to a human you looked like a 21 year old. It didn’t matter that you had roamed the world for a thousand years, your physical form remained the same.

“I guess not,” he sighed as his shoulders slumped and he kicked his vans at the loose stones as he whispered, “it didn’t work anyway.”

“It was your pronunciation, Latin is a tough language. I’ll let you in on a secret, you can say the incantation in any language and it will work.” You leaned in closer and chuckled darkly. “The devil just enjoys torturing people.”

“But…but…”

“Great, we’re back to that, are we?” You rolled your eyes and opened your palm, a ball of fire erupting into the night and the scent of sulphur lingering after the flame burned out. “What did you expect when you called me?”

“You…you’re the…dev…”

“Devil,” you offered as his face paled and he stumbled backwards. “Say it with me. De-vil.”

“You’re the devil? But you look like an angel.”

“More or less, there’s actually a lot of us.” You clapped him on the back and grinned when he jumped. “So what can I do for you, kid?”

“I heard you could grant wishes.”

“I’m not a genie, I’m a dealer,” you said with a shake of your head. “You tell me your dream and I make it happen, for a price.”

He chewed on his lip, his conscience trying to warn him it was a bad idea. “What price?”

You flicked your hand out and the piece of paper on the ground flew into your fingers. “You know the price. How old are you anyway, kid?”

“I’m sixteen, today actually.”

“Congratulations!” You frowned as it didn’t sound quite right and he did the same. “Wait, it’s happy birthday, isn’t it? We don’t exactly have them since we are fallen, not born.”

“That's really sad.”

“Hell help me, you are an emotional one.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you felt the waves of empathy rolling off the teenager. “Listen, I’m all up for taking souls, it’s my job and I’m pretty good at it, but you seem like a nice guy so I’ll help you out pro bono as long as you don’t cry.”

“Really?” His excitement was almost as infectious as his smile as he grinned at your offer and you could tell that with a few more years of growth and maturity he would be as handsome as those goody-good angels.

“Really. So what’s your dream? And don’t go all ‘Disneyland’ and that shit, make it big.”

“I want to be a Formula One World Champion.”

“Fuck, okay, I said big not gigantic,” you said as you cracked your neck and then your knuckles before rolling your shoulders. “That will take some time to pull off, but we got this, kid.”

“Charles, my name is Charles Leclerc,” he said as he held his hand out. “Do devils have names?”

“Of course we have names, but names have power and I don’t know you well enough to share mine with you.” You shook his hand and he jumped a little at the heat difference since the hellfire made you run hotter than humans. That same heat flickered up your spine as you felt another calling at a crossroad half a world away and so you stepped away. “I’ll check in once a year to see your progress.”

“Wait, that’s it?”

You laughed darkly as thick smoke began to gather at your feet where the earth was opening to your home realm. The teen yelped as a lick of flame encircled his wrist but the scar that appeared just as quickly healed so no one would know he had been marked by the devil. “Goodbye, Charles.”

16th October 2014 “I wasn’t sure you would actually come, I thought you were a figment of my imagination.”

You stepped out of the shadows and looked around the modest home that should have been full of his friends celebrating his 17th birthday. The air was thick with grief and it made your back ache from the weight of it bearing down on you as you watched the teenager stand with his back to you at a bookcase.

“Maybe I am,” you murmured as you walked over to him and saw his eyes fixated on a photo.

Placing the photo back carefully on the shelf he turned and you saw the difference a year had made. “I want to make a deal. My soul, take it.”

“Woah, slow down, Birthday Boy, you don’t know what you are offering.”

“I don’t care, I just need him to be alright.” Tears were swimming in his eyes as he grabbed your hand and squeezed tightly. “Fix Jules, please.”

Unable to resist, you reached out and touched the tear that ran down his cheek. Pain obliterated your chest, crushing your insides as waves of memories flooded your senses until you knew Jules just as well as he did.

For the first time since your fall a thousand years ago, you were envious of the angel you had been. You wanted to be the cause of his hope, but that wasn’t something you could give and you tugged your hand from his hold before they could blister his skin. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Bullshit! You are a dealer, you said so yourself.”

“That’s not how it works, Charles, I’m a devil. Don’t you see? The deals I make are selfish, the things people want for themselves. You want a miracle,” you sighed and felt the familiar ache where your wings once were, “I can’t do those anymore.”

“You got me into Formula Renault.”

“You got yourself there, kid,” you said as you stepped away. “I just whispered a few suggestions to people I knew would listen.”

It was a little more threatening involved but you weren’t going to let him know that. You hadn’t needed to do anything other than get someone to give him a chance since he had the talent to win all on his own.

“There has to be something you can do,” he pleaded, his green eyes swimming with tears.

You sighed as you stepped away, rubbing your temple as if you could actually get a migraine like a human could. “I can’t make any promises, but…let me see what I can do.”

You faded from the room before you could see the hope that filled his face and followed the memory of his visit to Jules, finding yourself in the shadows of a hospital room. The room was empty except for the young man laying on the bed, wires and tubes keeping his breathing steady. You were struck by the pain you felt and knew it wasn’t real but the lingering effects of sharing Charles’ memory of him, but that knowledge still didn’t ease the ache.

“Azrael, come down here.”

It only took a second for the angel to appear and she didn’t look pleased at being called away from her duties.

“You’re not an archangel anymore, you can’t just snap your fingers at me.”

“Obviously I can since you showed,” you pointed out. “I need a favour.”

“You don’t do favours,” she said as she narrowed her eyes.

“I do now. I need you to leave him alone.”

Azrael looked at the comatose man before reaching forward and touching his forehead and shaking her head. “He’s one of ours, he has to come with me soon.”

“You have no sense of time, whatsoever. Soon could be 50 years from now.” You crossed your arms and stared the death angel down. “I’ll deny three souls in exchange for his life.”

“You’d turn down three deals for Jules? Who is he to you?”

“No one, but he means everything to someone else. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal, he has until I next come back down, no more.”

You nodded in agreement hoping her sporadic trips to earth erred on a lengthier time away this round. Unfurling her wings, you felt a pang of jealousy arise as you watched her fade away only to hear the strong beats of her wings carry her higher.

You aparated back to Charles and found him slumped in a leather reading chair, an album of photos open on his lap. Droplets splattered on plastic sleeves, only to smear into streaks as he wiped them away at your arrival.

“I bought him some time,” you said softly as you fell into the seat opposite him. “I can’t say how long because I don’t know but for now he will live.”

Charles dropped the book as he fell to his knees and clutched your hand tightly, the gesture making you uncomfortable. “Thank you,” he choked as his tears hit your knee through the rip in your skinny jeans and turned to steam. He didn’t seem to be affected by the heat radiating off you, he didn’t seem to feel it at all as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your joined hands. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, kid,” you said ruefully, pulling your hand back from the touch. “Healing was never my gift. He will have to do that on his own.”

“He will, I know he will,” Charles said with certainty as he rose to his feet. “He’s the strongest man that I know.”

You stood up with a nod and realised this year he was the same height as you, seeing eye to eye after his latest growth spurt.

“I hope you are right,” you said, feeling the floor start to give way beneath you as you willed yourself home. “Until next year, Birthday Boy.”

Charles’ nose wrinkled at the smell of sulphur filling the room and he stepped back at the sight of the black plume swirling around your boots. “You don’t have to wait a year, you can visit anytime.”

“Have you forgotten who I am?” you laughed as the smoke climbed higher.

“Just because you’re the devil, it doesn’t make you bad,” he said with a shy shrug. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

He was right in the fact you had been kind, something no one else would say about you. You couldn’t explain why you were different with him, why you couldn’t treat him like any other advantageous young man wanting to get ahead. There would surely be hell to pay if word ever got out about it.

The smoke reached your throat and pulled you down. “Maybe I made a mistake.”

16th October 2015 Charles would never know it but you had visited him throughout the year. You had kept to the shadows, watching from afar as he graduated to Formula 3 and came one step closer to reaching his dream. You were there by his side when he received the phone call that had devastated him, you had felt Azrael’s presence on the mortal plane and immediately went to him. You didn’t reveal yourself, not when the gut wrenching sound he made had you hate having fallen. You could offer him nothing so you remained hidden, torturing yourself with the knowledge of what could have been.

It was a little before midnight when you arrived at the busy nightclub. You should have just apparated into a bathroom stall but instead you had to produce a fake ID so the bouncer would let you in.

“Guess I can’t call you kid anymore,” you said as you found Charles in the VIP area and took a seat beside him. “Happy Birthday.”

“Who’s this angel, Charles?” his friend asked with a confident grin.

You tipped your head back with a laugh before you recovered enough to say, “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, but you call me D.”

Charles nearly choked on his drink at the snort he gave. “What are you doing here, D? I don’t remember inviting you.”

You leaned closer to see his cheeks flushed pink with the alcohol he was now legally allowed to imbibe in and whispered, “There’s only one place I need an invitation, and despite the name on the door outside - this isn’t Heaven.”

With a huff of annoyance he stood up and made his way out of the VIP area to the packed dance floor. Knowing everyone was completely inebriated you didn’t bother to follow him, instead you suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Leave me alone,” Charles growled as he turned his back, but everywhere he went you were in front of him.

Finally he gave up escaping and you shoved a hand on your hip as you asked, “What’s your problem?”

“My problem? You lied to me, that’s what!” The drink in his hand spilled over the rim of the glass with the angry shaking overtaking his body. “Jules died…and you weren’t even there. You never visited me and…I needed you. I needed to know why!”

You took the glass from him and tipped the liquid back, relishing the burn of the alcohol down your throat as he stared daggers at you. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, mortal.”

“Well, we never made a deal, so there’s no need for you to be here, devil.”

The words hurt more than you cared to admit and the glass shattered in your hand, ichor flowing from the wounds before they could heal as quickly as they came. Charles' eyes widened at the dark liquid coating your palm and he almost looked worried for you but you weren’t looking at him. Your eyes were fixed on your heels, the shoes uncomfortable compared to the boots you normally wore but you had wanted to fit in. For him.

“You’re right,” you muttered as you freed your hair from the constricting hair tie and kicked the shoes off. There was nothing to be done about the tight red dress until you were home, but you would be there soon enough. “Goodbye, Charles.”

16th October 2016 Try as you might, you couldn’t stay away. Unbeknownst to Charles, you regularly checked in to see what his latest accomplishments were. As it was, he was leading the Formula 3 Championship and was a sure graduate to Formula 2. He raced like he had the devil breathing down his neck, pushing the boundaries to the brink of disaster.

Maybe he knew you hadn’t abandoned him, or maybe he just didn’t care. You knew you definitely shouldn’t have cared but still you watched him grow into a man and mature as his career evolved.

16th October 2017 You had nearly started another war the day Azrael came for Charles’ father. For three days you stood ready to fight the angel of death for Charles’ biggest supporter while he visited the hospital to say his goodbyes. He had lied to his father, telling Hervé that he had signed to a Formula 1 team for the next year and you promised to make it happen - with or without a soul to bargain.

It wasn’t a difficult task to achieve, a small incident with Pascal Wehrlein making a seat available in Sauber. All Charles had to do was keep his head in the game and go fast like he always did.

When you watched him celebrate his birthday his eyes had glanced around the room and you wondered if it was you he was looking for. It was only when those green eyes landed on a family photo you pushed the silly thought away, he was just missing his father.

16th October 2018 “How long have you been there?” Charles asked the empty room.

How he sensed your presence, you didn’t know, but since you no longer needed to hide it you let the shadows fall away. Turning away from where he had been styling his hair in the mirror, he leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

His room hadn’t changed all that much, Ferrari posters still covered the majority of the walls but they were also joined by some models posing on hoods of cars. The twin bed had been upgraded to a double and was covered in a red and yellow bedspread that clashed with your trademark black outfit as you lay across it.

“How often do you do that?”

“Do what?” you asked innocently as you stared at his ceiling and not his narrowed eyes.

He waved a hand over your leisurely state. “This.”

You got off the bed and stalked across the room to the Formula 1 racer and found you had to look up at him even with the heels on your boots. “Don’t mortals leave home by now? I thought the 21st birthday was some big right of passage.”

You reached for the tub of hair product and sniffed at the vanilla scent before it was swiped from your hand. It smelled edible and there was another scent that was just as good but you weren’t sure what it was or where it was coming from until you leaned closer to him and inhaled.

“I just bought an apartment but it’s not ready for me to move into for a few more weeks. Will you stop that?”

“What is that smell?” Your head was swimming as if you were high but that wasn’t possible. “My head…”

You could barely stand upright as you felt drunk all of a sudden and Charles caught you as you stumbled back. “Sit down,” he said softly as he guided you to the edge of his bed. “Why did you come back?”

Your head lolled onto his shoulder and the room spun as the truth tumbled from your lips. “I never left you,” you admitted, your words slurring as the intoxicating smell left you dazed. “Not when Jules died…or your father, never…”

Charles frowned as your eyes closed and you fell back on his bed. He had spent so long blaming you, being angry at you, believing you had abandoned him when he needed you most but as you murmured in your strange state he realised he had it all wrong.

“D?” he called out as he shook your shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You tried to open your eyes but they were too heavy and you curled into a ball as your stomach churned. “Because I shouldn’t care. You’re just a human.”

“But you do care,” he surmised as he grabbed the blanket and draped it over your shivering body.

“Devils don’t care.” You could hardly talk through your chattering teeth, the blanket doing nothing to warm the ice that had seeped into your being.

Charles curled himself up against your back and tightened his arms around the blanket as he tried to warm you. Nothing seemed to work until his voice spoke softly in your ear, “Then maybe you’re not like the others.”

The silence grew and he thought you had passed out when you muttered, “I had nowhere else to go.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a war…couldn’t choose a side…threw me out.” A yawn silenced your words and you snuggled into his arms, your nose finding that delicious scent strongest on his neck where you nuzzled deeper.

“My cologne,” Charles whispered and you realised you had asked aloud what it was. “You’re like a cat high on catnip.”

“Haven’t been high since I had wings.” You giggled, a sound so unlike you, but it turned to a sad sigh. “I miss my wings.”

Charles brushed your hair back from your face but you didn’t have the strength to open your eyes. “What colour were they?”

“There isn’t a colour to describe them. But you can see it at dawn…look to the east…the last star in the morning sky.”

“The Morningstar?” Charles looked down to see your lips parted with a soft snore and reached into his pocket for his phone. There was no way he was going to leave you in the state you were in, not even for his own birthday party.

16th October 2019 You had thought Azrael had forgotten the deal you made but she made sure to remind you of it when she crossed paths with you at the Belgium GP. Charles’ head had snapped your way the moment he heard the crash and you shook your head sadly. The only reassurance you could give him was that the young driver’s soul was at peace.

Before leaving with her precious cargo, Azrael had given you two months to keep your end of the bargain and you didn’t want to test her patience. The crossroads had been quiet and it took nearly the whole time to find three souls worthy of denying a deal, most people who offered their souls for their greatest desires deserved the eternal damnation in return.

As soon as your task was fulfilled you returned to Charles, to the only place you felt at home. After waking in his arms a year ago you had struggled with the duties expected of you, finding more and more excuses for the downturn in deals. After waking in his arms, you wanted to be more than what you were. You wanted to believe you could be more, like he believed in you.

“D,” Pierre greeted as he joined you at the bar. “Still looking as lovely as ever.”

“Still the charmer.”

His attempt to shift closer to your side was blocked by the heat radiating from you and he pulled back with a frown, brushing the oddity off in his tipsy state. “Where have you been?”

“Here, there, everywhere,” you answered absentmindedly as you felt Charles’ presence before you spotted him. “I travel for work.”

“Let me guess - modelling?”

“Dealing.”

“No way!” His eyebrow shot up and he leaned in to whisper, “Drugs?”

“Not quite,” you said with a laugh. “Something far more lucrative.”

Charles’ hand came to rest on the small of your back and his lips brushed your cheek. “Sorry I’m late, ma diablesse. What are you drinking?”

“I could do with a-” your voice trailed off as a fissure ran through the air and you turned to see what had just walked in the door. “Hold that thought.”

“What’s wrong?” Charles asked but you were already weaving your way through the crowd.

Waves of power rolled off the beast but no one would see the tusks spearing out of its face or the black soulless eyes, they would merely see a mountain of a man and a vibe that warned them to move aside.

“This is a bit out of your territory, Fowler. What are you doing topside?”

The demon looked over your shoulder and smirked. “Heard some interesting rumours.”

“And what rumours were those?”

“That some darling angel was caught up with a mortal, helping out for free. You know the rules. No soul, no deal.” Fowler’s hand snapped out and caught your throat, his claws threatening to tear it out. “Don’t forget who took you in when your family threw you out.”

“Fuck you, I’ve more than paid my debt,” you spat as you grabbed his wrist and seared his skin with the lick of your flames. “Don’t come and threaten me.”

“I don’t have to threaten you,” he chuckled as he cradled his hand to his chest and looked past you to where Charles was pushing his way to your side. “Mortals are so weak, a little accident is all it takes.”

There was no way you could let Fowler return to Hell with the information he had, your weakness, so you did the only thing you could to protect Charles. You rushed the demon as the ground opened, disappearing into the pit with him before Charles could follow. You called all of your power and funnelled it into your fire, pouring it down the demon's throat until he was smothered by the flames and a smoking husk that turned to ash as you crashed to the ground.

“Morningstar, what is the meaning of this?”

You bowed to Beelzebub before kicking away the ash that had settled on your boot and painted a dark smile onto your face. “He interrupted a deal, I couldn’t let that grievance go unpunished. Or did you want me to forgive him?” You challenged him with an arch of your brow until he huffed a sigh and waved the question away with the whip of his tail.

“So where is the contract for the soul?”

“Did you miss the part where I said he interrupted the deal?”

“I’m not sure if I liked you less as an angel or not,” he uttered from his throne of skulls.

“I have that effect.” You started to leave the way you came but a chain snared around your ankle and locked into place before you could escape.

“Not so fast.” You were thrown onto your ass as he yanked the chain and dragged you to the foot of his throne. “I find myself short of an enforcer,” he said as he looked pointedly at the pile of ash you had created.

“So find another,” you growled as you tried to melt the chain but it merely absorbed the heat you poured onto it, “there’s no shortage of brainless fools ready to serve you.”

“But look how that ended,” he laughed. “How about a deal? Ten years as my enforcer for your freedom.”

Freedom. Ten years was nothing, just a blip to an immortal, but you weren’t thinking of yourself. You were thinking what ten years would be for Charles. Would he have a wife and kids? Would he have won his world championship? Would he remember you?

“Two,” you countered.

“Five.”

“Deal, but on one condition.” You stopped fighting the chain and rose to your knees. “I want a soul.”

16th October 2024 You were beyond exhausted when you stumbled into the bedroom, using the last of your strength to find your way back to him. The last five years had been brutal and it was a miracle that you had survived to complete your end of the deal, much to Beelzebub’s chagrin. The bastard had thrown every impossible task your way but you had something he could never understand, hope. And it kept you fighting to the bitter end.

You crashed onto the bed as your legs gave out and he leapt up at the intrusion, the bedside lamp lighting up and illuminating his silhouette as he stared at you wide eyed. “Ma diablesse? You came back…”

“Always, Birthday Boy.” You reached for him, needing to feel him with your own two hands after missing him for five years. It was his face that had kept you alive and you cupped his jaw to pull him closer only to freeze at what you felt. “Charles?”

“What? What is it?” he asked with panic as he placed his hands over yours, holding them tight to his cheeks.

“You have a beard,” you whispered, turning his face to the side to see the styled hair on his jaw. “When did that happen?”

Charles laughed and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck as he crushed you against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“I would have been back sooner but I made a deal with the devil.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out an unassuming medallion. “A soul, my soul.”

Charles frowned in confusion as he trailed a finger over the symbols of an ancient language long forgotten. “What do you mean?”

“No more devil deals, if you’ll have me, I would be human.”

Shock rippled through his features. “You would give up immortality for me?”

“Hell is an eternity without you,” you said before you pressed your forehead to his, sharing his breath of life. “And if I never make it back to Heaven at least I will have had a moment of it here with you.”

Bonus scene here.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

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taylorswiftstyle · 2 months

Text

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY

Only bought this dress … so I could take off my ceremony dress.

My first Valentine’s Day as a wife seemed like a great time to hold on to certain memories and give my reception dress a moment on the feed.

This dress was like a champagne bottle uncorked: bubbly and fizzy. Perfect for cheersing to the toast of my town. A husband who is thoughtul and kind, patient and generous, sensitive and darkly funny … and also born in the wee hours before New Year’s Day.

💚

- Sarah

Photo by Kaoverii Silva

#tss news

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lovelywritinglady · 10 months

Text

Rarities

Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!Albino!reader

Douma has been keeping you away from Muzan. He soon finds out and requests an both of you into the mansion. Because what demon wouldn’t be intrigued by a human that is sensitive to the sun. Angst, fluff. Reader is albino and therefore has the characteristics of albanism. Muzan is most likely out of character. This was a requested fic, however the original post kept deleting itself so I needed to scrap it and make a new one. Thanks to @cursetopia for requesting this it was interesting to write.

Your Pov

The room as cold and darkly lit as the only light was from a single candle on the far side of the room. Not that I minded absence of light as the sun was nearly umberable. I sat on my bed that master Douma provided me after "good behavior" or whatever that means. I can't leave or he'll kill me and my family and I can't risk that. How I long to see them, despite my apprearence they never hated me like the other villagers did. All they ever did was show me love. I curse the day that I was born. I stuck out everywhere, so its really no surprise that I was captured. In truth I hated myself and I despiretly wished I was normal because at least I'd have the chance at a regular life instead of being held captive by a demon.

The candle suddenly went out as I felt the room get even colder than before and I knew that he was here. His breath tickled the back of my skin and despite him randomly coming into my room, I forgot how to breathe.

"Ah you still get nervous when I see you, such a cute pet." He cooed that caused me to shudder internally. "You get to out today. My master wants to meet you." Douma spoke with annoyance

"Why?" I asked quietly

"You should know this by now, we demons are quite fond of humans that cannot be in the sun. Its almost like you're a demon yourself. Plus, your complextion is quite rare indeed. You're like a precious artifact." He cooed picking me up bridal style. I then suddenly found myself in a very large well lit room that seemed to go every which way. I was in awe as master Douma had never taken me to this place before.

"So this is the rare human that you have been keeping from me Douma?" A voice boomed overhead. I quickly shot my head up to see who this voice belonged to only to be met with gleaming pink-red eyes, that were somewhat similar to mine.

"Yes, my Lord Muzan this is her. Isn't she just ravishing, such a rare gem ought to be owned only by demons, don't you think?" My master cooed taking a strand of my snowy hair between his fingers. "She is my favorite pet." My master boasted.

"Tell me girl, how does the sun feel to you?" He questioned

"My Lord, the sun has always hurt my skin and I find it harder to see during the day." I spoke honestly and as respectfully as I could in a situation as nerve racking as this one. He nodded quietly and looked as though he was pondering something.

"She will come with me." Lord Muzan ordered suddenly.

"My Lord I have been taking care of this human for many years now, so she belongs to me." Master Douma spat. Muzan, without warning, then sent my masters head flying and I gasped at his speed and strength.

"Consider this payment for being an utter failure to me. I should kill you, but one of the upper moons was just killed recently, so I will be sparing you just this once." Lord Muzan demanded. Just as quick as it was gone, master Douma's head was now replace with a new one.

"Yes, My Lord." Douma bowed in defeat. He looked in my eyes and for the first time I noticed utter fear and hatred laced in them. I that look was not for me, but for the man that he called 'Lord.'

"Come girl." He ordered tunring from me and walking who-knows-where. I said nothing and followed knowing full well that if I did not, I might end up like master Douma, only I could not grow another head.

The sound of strumming vibrated the room and I felt the ground beneath me shift from up under my feet. As quick as a breath, I found myself standing in a semi well lit room that smelled like lavender and cherry blossoms. It was a rather large room with four doors, a large bed, bookcases filled with books, and decorated in many different fresh flowers. The room master Douma provided me was small and cold and most nights I had to bundle myself up just to feel an ounce of warmth. However, this room was engulfed with warmth, but not too much that the heat was overpowering. I looked upon the room freely until once more Lord Muzan was right in front of me and I found myself looking into similar colored eyes once more.

"This is where you will be staying from now on. If you should need anything on of the maids will see to it. If they can't, then your needs will be met by me. The room is connected to a house that you are free to wonder in. However, if you wish to go outside you must tell one of the maid that you are doing so. I will allow you to also see your family three times a year to keep you happy. They will also be kept safe as well." Lord Muzan spoke calmly

"Thank you, My Lord!" I nearly exclaimed at the thought of seeing my family again. "Forgive the question, but why have you gone to so much trouble?" I asked cringing at the fact that I even asked him this.

"I am not overly fond of anyone questioning me, but considering your situation I will allow it just once. Do you understand?" He quickly spat and I nodded my head showing my understanding as my words failed me. "You are here because you are a human worthy of life. Your unnatural hair is similar to that of a demons. As is your skin that is pale and lifeless yet beautiful. And your eyes that share a similar shade to mine, make you worthy of life and my protection. You, girl, are the very definition of a rarity and something that must be protected from humans and demons alike." Lord Muzan procalaimed stepping closer to me with a look in his eyes that I couldn't understand. I could feel his breath hit my face and I felt small as he towered over me. I was shocked to say the least as no one has ever truly told me I was worthy of life, not even master Douma. I slightly winced at the realization that other humans were trash to him, but I can't argue with him or else I would most likely suffer. "I must go now, there are things that I must attend to." Muzan spoke and just as quick as I met him, he was gone.

I let go a shaky breath that I was holding and walked over to the bed. Throwing myself on it I sighed in contentment to how soft it was. The room was comfortable to say the least, but now my situation was worse than before. I was being held hostage by Lord Muzan himself, but my tiredness washed away the feeling of panic. As did my relization that I would indeed be taken care of, but for how long. My eyes grew heavy and soon enough I closed my eyes and drifted off into the best sleep that I had gotten in years with thoughts of the man with similar eyes to mine.

Thanks for reading💜

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•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

#demon slayer muzan #muzan kibutsuji #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan kibutsuji x you #muzan x reader #muzan x y/n #muzan x you #muzan demon slayer #albino reader #requested fic.#demon slayer #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer fics #demon slayer fanfic

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