#i promise i really will eventually write all of them

[mochatsin]

When MC is a Writer

You’ve written several books back in the human realm, some posted online while others were published. You have some works unfinished but since you were taken to Devildom, you had to put them on hold. Eventually the brothers find out about your hobby.

Hi I had this idea while I was reading light novels. Certain brothers would have certain themes in whatever is being written to fit them, but feel free to imagine what kind of story your MC would write. Thanks for reading!

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Lucifer

Lucifer was out on a stroll on RAD when he spotted you with Simeon having lunch together, looking deep in discussion. He does notice that you both have been spending a lot of time together and a part of him is curious as to why that is. You’re either talking with Simeon during lunch breaks or meeting up with him after school. He’s not jealous, Lucifer is more intrigued as to what must be so important that you come home late after your visits with the angel. 

You were both in his study when he finally asked you about it. You were late for dinner yesterday after coming home late from purgatory hall, Lucifer wouldn’t want you to start ditching your duties if it’s your turn to make dinner for the week. You explain to him that you’re not trying to avoid your chores at all, there’s just something that you needed Simeon’s help with. Now what could possibly Simeon do that Lucifer couldn’t? He probes a bit more until you spill the truth. 

You tell Lucifer that you and Simeon are meeting up together because you’re trying to tie the loopholes in this story that you were writing, and Simeon has given you great advice as a fellow writer. Now Lucifer is intrigued, enough to the point he put down his fountain pen and paused in his work. That can wait until tomorrow, he wants to hear all about your writing. He won’t pressure you into talking if you don’t want to tell him yet, but he promises not to make fun of whatever you make. 

You both enjoy a glass of demonus while you tell Lucifer the premise of your story, giving him enough background and detail for him to understand the part that you’re having trouble writing. Surprisingly, Lucifer is also quite a big help as he asks you thought provoking questions and offers suggestions that you can try to implement into your works. Given that he’s read several pieces of literature for the years he’s been alive, he has a lot of insight on what you can do to pace your story better. 

There’s a small smile on his face as he notices how your eyes shine every time you figure out a way for you to write the next parts, and he sits there in his spot sipping on his drink while you talk about what you can do for future updates. It’s impressive just listening to you untangle such an intricate story as if you’re just placing pieces of a puzzle together. To him, your mind is beautiful. 

Some time later, you found Lucifer by the living room with your book in his hand. He said that even though you explained the story, he still wanted to see how it really goes and appreciate your work. You asked if there’s anything you can do to thank him the other day for helping you, and all Lucifer asked  is that he’s the first to know once you update.

Mammon

Mammon is lounging in your room while he’s checking his stocks and latest lottery results (he lost) when you start asking him questions about gambling. He interpreted this as you finally having an interest in his gambling habits so he began talking about the mechanics. Roulette tables, machines, you name it and he’ll explain it with great detail. It would make the brothers wonder why Mammon can’t even remember to do all his chores when he can recall all of these with ease. 

You also ask about how people normally scheme and cheat in casinos. At first he thought you were accusing him even though he often does that in game nights at the House of Lamentation (Levi caught him), but then he realizes it’s just pure curiosity so he explains how he’s heard some people pull it off. It’s a high risk kind of stunt and since he doesn’t want to be banned from the casino then he doesn’t resort to those methods. 

Mammon then starts questioning why you’re asking these. It’s not like you were going to gamble right? He silently hoped you weren’t in debt to the point you’re resorting to gambling but no that’s not the case. You tell him that you’re trying to write a scene and it takes place in a casino, and since Mammon spends a lot of his time in those places then his experience makes him the best person to ask. He was definitely turning red at that last part. 

Mammon goes back to his room and since you talked about your writing, he searches for it online to check out your works. He didn’t know you were such a big shot in the reading community so he wants to see what your stuff was about. It started as reading the summary, to reading the introduction, and now he’s updated. They were all right, you’re good. 

Mammon starts reading more often, though it’s mostly limited to the things you’ve written before. Satan has been trying to get him to read his personal recommendations but if it’s something written by you then he’s not hesitating to pick it up. Lucifer is personally thanking you for giving Mammon something that helped temporarily forget his gambling habits and dumb schemes.

If you have any more questions about gambling or anything, Mammon is always happy to tell you everything he knows. Heck, he even offered to bring you over to the casino to let you have some personal experience of whatever that is you’re writing but the brothers warned you against that idea if you want to come back home with Grimm still in your pockets.

Levi

Lately Levi has been reading a lot of Light Novels. Usually he’d be updating himself with manga he’s read to check for any new updates but he decided to pick on light novels that one of his favorite manga’s are based on. He claims that despite the manga and anime adaptations, there’s still a whole world of lore that there’s yet to discover so he wants to pick up on those, and he eventually came to appreciate these sorts of books. 

He was going through some recommendations and read through some of them, but one series definitely caught his attention and he spent an entire night trying to catch up to the latest update. He went to the breakfast table with heavy bags in his eyes and a big pout on his face so you ask him what’s wrong. 

He tells you that he found an interesting book series that has all his favorite tropes, but the author went on a sudden hiatus so there weren't any new updates as of recently. Biggest problem is that the chapter was left on a cliffhanger. You let him ramble on with the story until you realized that was one of your works. You were debating if you should admit it or not but maybe it’s best you do. 

You explained that you were actually the author and the work was on pause because of the exchange program. You wrote it in the human realm but because you were taken to Devildom, you couldn’t find the time to continue writing. Levi wasn’t sure if he should believe you were actually the author because no way can this happen to him twice, first it was TSL now it’s this one. 

He asked you several questions about the series like another TSL trivia quiz. His question went from easy basic knowledge to something oddly specific, but since you wrote it then you answered everything perfectly. Levi has that sparkle in his eyes that he usually has when he looks at his idols, except this time it’s with you. 

Levi refuses to hear any major spoiler from you so that his reactions are genuine by the time you update. You’re instantly one of his favorite writers and he won't hesitate to hype up your work on any forum platform. He can talk about how much he loves your writing to the point that you’re motivated to go back to finishing the next chapters. Maybe you could let Levi take a peek to be the first person to read once you’re done.

Satan

It’s always a nice leisure time to just sit in a room with Satan, both of you doing your own thing while discussing books you’ve both read recently. Often though you both do that in his room but since his recent rampage left everything a bigger mess than it already was to begin with, your book discussions were held in your room for the time being until his place gets cleaned up. Barbatos is not going to be happy about it.

You can see how he’s dying to discuss the latest book he’s read so the moment you say he can go first, he’s talking almost to a Levi level kind of excitement. Satan tells you how he recently found a series he’s invested in. The story and pacing are so good that he was hooked on it immediately, recalling all his favorite lines and scenes from it. He talks about the work in high regards and how he hopes the author comes back soon with some updates. 

You don’t know if you should be surprised that Satan has already come across your works considering that most of his days are dedicated to reading. You haven’t told him about this part of your life since he’s read so many good books, you fear it may not be up to match with other great writers so you kept it a secret from him. It's nice to see that Satan is praising your works, unaware that you were the author.  

You left your laptop on one day and Satan didn’t intend to look but accidentally did. He thought it was a homework essay for one of your classes, but he was surprised to see your drafts of the next chapters. Satan wanted to assume you were those fanfic writers that Levi has been talking about, but he does see that it was all aligned to the latest update. Realizing how much  he just talked about your work in front of you made him red from embarrassment, but he’s proud more than anything else. 

He comes clean that he knows your secret while apologizing for taking a peek, but he’s quite ecstatic to be associated with someone as talented as you are. It’s one thing to be a fan of books, it’s another to be writing a good one. If you need a beta reader, he’s always ready to lend his services. He’s a quick reader and he can lend useful advice or proper criticisms. At least he can be useful to you and it’s a bonus to be the first out of everyone to read about it.

Other than being a huge bookworm, Satan is the most knowledgeable among the brothers so if you’re struggling with writing something you don’t know too much about then he’ll help fill in the gaps of your knowledge. If it’s something he’s not familiar with then expect to wake up the next day finding out that Satan spent the night researching it for you so he could answer any question you have. He’d love to help you out in whatever way he can. 

Asmo

Asmo has been whining to the house of purgatory for any ideas because he needs to make some new content for his account because he wants to keep his followers entertained. He’s always doing makeup and skin care reviews because it’s what he does best (and also because he’s sponsored to do so), so Asmo is thinking of what’s something new he can do this time. It’s good to do something new from time to time to shock his fanbase.

Simeon suggests that Asmo should go read a book. At first the demon thought he was being condescending, but given that it’s a suggestion from Simeon then it’s definitely a genuine one. Asmo wanted to turn down the idea, though Simeon adds that he should read books up his alley. Perhaps a romance book should suit his tastes? They’re not too complicated to read and can be entertaining if written well. Being an Avatar of Lust, romance does sound intriguing and Simeon has the perfect book to recommend.

Asmo shocks everyone at the House of Lamentation when he comes home reading a book. It has a pretty cover and talks a tale of lovers, plus it was easy for him to digest since the book isn’t as thick and heavy like the ones that Satan normally likes to read. He seems overjoyed by the book that Simeon suggested to him and it must take a lot for a story to captivate Asmo that he almost forgets his nightly skin care routine.

He’s laying on your lap, swinging his feet with glee as he talks to you about this book he’s been fussing over. The story progressed so nicely between the two lovebirds, and each obstacle is so entertaining that Asmo can’t help but go through the next pages to see what happened. Does it strain the relationship? Do they break up? How will it go from here on then? It’s all too good! One of the best romance books he’s read so far. 

The more he talked about the twists and the plot, the more you realized that he was talking about your book that you published before you even got to Devildom. You ask Asmo how he got his hands on that book since it’s from the human realm, and he tells you that Simeon suggested it. You sighed, of course it was Simeon. He was the only one who knew you wrote books because you told him, though you didn’t expect that he’d suggest it to Asmo of all people.

Eventually you come clean to Asmo that you were the author, and it took a bit of explaining until he would believe you. You showed him your old drafts of when you worked, maybe some pictures of that time when you were storyboarding the book so you could convince him. He’s shocked to see this precious human has quite the talent of writing romance novels, he almost believed that your works were written by cupid himself! His new promotional video is him raving about your books, talking about how his heart skipped a beat and whatnot. The sales spiked that day.

Beel

Beel came home from practice one afternoon and due to the intensive workout, he’s definitely starving for something. He bought some Black Puddle Jelly from Madam Scream’s before he went home because he thought about sharing them with you. Food always tastes better when it’s with you. He would’ve brought Belphie with him, though his twin is still in detention for pulling a prank on Lucifer during class earlier.

He looks for you but before he goes to your room, he spots you by the kitchen instead trying to cook up something. As far as Beel knows, it’s Levi who would be on dinner duties for tonight so he’s wondering what you’re doing in there. The aroma of what you were making is what drew Beel to you, and he asks what you were up to when you spot him behind you, mouth already watering. 

You tell Beel that you’re trying to cook some recipe you found online while making use of the ingredients here in Devildom. It’s the first time you went out to buy every ingredient on your own to experiment, and Beel immediately points out to you which ones would probably be safe to eat and what would be dangerous to add in the dish because some ingredients won’t react well with each other. Even though Beel can most likely eat anything, he wouldn’t want you to accidentally poison yourself. 

Beel watches you type down some notes on your phone and asks if that was for the recipe, though you tell him that you’re writing details. You’re attempting to cook with foreign ingredients because you’re trying to immerse yourself with a character you’re writing in your story. A character that’s trying to discover some new recipes with things they’ve never seen before.

You’re thankful for Beel’s advice about the ingredients earlier, it helped you gain some more insight and inspiration on what to do for the next chapters. You’re already imagining the culinary endeavors your character will go through while you’re chopping the mandrakes you got. The demon is happy to help and all Beel asks is that you feed him whatever you’re making when you’re done, since he likes your cooking after all. He sits by the island counter, chewing on the Black Puddle Pudding while he listens to you discuss your book with him. 

Beel eventually walks up to you one day and admits that he tried to read your works. Your culinary adventure storyline is fantastic, but when it starts to describe all the delicious food that the character makes, Beel’s hunger starts to spike that he almost ate the page. There’s just something about the way you discuss the food that makes it sound so appetizing to him, he almost wants to recreate it with you. When you offer to read it with him while he eats some snacks, he has this happy smile on his face as he nods. 

Belphie

Belphie just got back from RAD, stretching his limbs a bit and yawning as he opens the door. He just came back from detention for pulling pranks, and all he wants to do is to just fall asleep right now. He wanted to invite Beel for a nap but his twin is still in practice so he’s not available. You were the next person he had in mind, so he went out searching for you around the house.

He finds you by the planetarium, and he was ready to invite you to sleep but he sees that your focus has been going back and forth between your notes and the stars in the sky. Since Devildom always has an endless night time, you’re able to study the constellations as freely as you want. There’s no need for you to wait for the sun to set like you had to back in the human realm. There are books about Devildom stars scattered around you, ones you’ve borrowed from the library or from Satan’s collection so you can study them better.

He sits down next to you, resting his head over your shoulder and asking if you’re trying to memorize the constellations. You explain that you’re trying to get inspiration and notes for something you’re writing, a short fairy tale that’s dedicated to the stars this time. You’ve written fairy tales before you got here, and you want to make something inspired from Devildom stars. The constellations they have here are way different from what you normally see in the human realm, so you’re sure that the stories behind them are different as well. 

A fairy tale about stars? Written by one of the people he cares about the most? Belphie is definitely interested in hearing more about it. He doesn’t try to tease you or anything about the fact you’re writing stories, he’s even willing to offer to help you by telling you everything he knows about the stars and the stories behind each constellation that he can remember at the top of his head in hopes that may spark more inspirations. Satan may know a lot of things, but Belphie is passionate about stars and you can feel it from the way he talks. 

Belphie is incredibly drowsy the next day since he spent the night talking about your writing and helping you with it. He can’t help it when it’s about stars, and Belphie loves the way your eyes light up whenever you get an idea that you can put in. To him, it almost shines like the stars you’re writing about. He may have a vague idea of your story based on yesterday’s conversation, but he’s excited to read the final outcome. He’s seen glimpses of your works when you showed him your notes, it would definitely be worth the wait.

You invited him back to the planetarium because you want to show him your draft underneath all the stars. Even when he’s tired, he shows up and lays next to you to rest with all these pillows. The only favor he asked was that you read the fairytale for him while he rests, he promises he’ll try not to fall asleep. You read the story to him, occasionally checking if he’s still awake or not. Whenever you stopped, he would squeeze your hand and despite having his eyes closed, he would tell you to continue with such a groggy voice. He manages to at least hear the rest of it before falling asleep with a smile on his face.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

[bisexualiteaa]

Hi honey, I just discovered your Cooper fics today and oh my gods. They're incredible, I love the way you write him ❤️. I was wondering, if you're still taking requests that is (no pressure like), if you could do a sub! Cooper x reader? Preferably male!reader or with male genitalia, but fem is totally okay if you're not comfortable with that 😁. I just think Coop with a taller, more muscular partner is neat.

I'm thinking the reader was secretly married to Coop and Barb beforehand, but lost part of their memories after they became a ghoul and one of the best bounty hunters around, wearing a mask. And all they remember about Coop is how beautiful his eyes were (Walton Goggins has the most gorgeous eyes ever, I swear 😫) So the reader wants the head too and tags along with the gang, eventually getting closer to Cooper. During a fight, reader gets hurt and Coop comes over to help them, but reader is finally close enough to properly see his eyes and realises it's him. Coop takes off the mask, reader remembers, there's tears, kisses, and eventually super soft, subby sex.

So, really just really angsty, then fluffy when they find each other after 200 years. Reader taking care of our baby girl Coop, and him just accepting the love and being a pillow princess. Maybe a little overstim and edging if we're feeling spicy 😉.

I'm so sick for this man, it's unhealthy. Thanks again for your amazing work, love. I absolutely made my day better! (Sorry for how long this ask is 🙃).

It’s Been a Long, Long Time

Cooper Howard x Ghoul Fem Reader (angst-fluff!)

CW: pre-ghoul Cooper, established relationship, reader and Cooper were married and had a child together, character death, cursing, angst!! But don’t worry, it’s a happy ending, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from the TV series

AN: not me posting this at 3am before I leave for a trip for the weekend, I feel like I’ve depraved y’all! 😂 I wanted to post this to give y’all some good Cooper Content ™️ before I go on a three day hiatus for vacation! 🥺 Thank you all to the people who have submitted asks, I promise I am still working on them/towards getting to them! ❤️ In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy this one! @kinatanhi I hope I did your request justice! I know it’s a little tweaked from what you sent in and forgive me, I wrote this literally an hour ago at 2am because it finally came to me what I wanted to write, but seeing as it was written at 2am, y’all please forgive me if it isn’t my best work, I tried my best lol. 😭❤️

You smiled happily as you danced with your husband in your shared, quaint little kitchen, his hands coming to rest at your waist as they always did, and your arms looped around his neck. You were thankful that the producers on set of his movie, as well as his agent, allowed him to come home early in order to celebrate your birthday with you. You stood smiling up at him as you two danced- well, more like swayed, to the slow music playing from the radio. You lay your head against his chest, smiling as your eyes set on the gorgeous flowers that were lying on the kitchen counter that he brought home just for you. You smiled up at him when you caught him staring down at you with nothing but love and adoration in his gaze. “What’s that look for, hmm?” You asked with a playful smile, making him chuckle and flash that gorgeous smile of his that you loved so much, almost as much as his eyes that you swore you could be lost in forever. “Nothin’, just that I’m lucky enough to have married the most beautiful woman on this earth” he said, making you hum appreciatively at his cute answer. “Oh stop it, you charmer you” you replied, making him scoff in fake offense, making you giggle at his dramatics. “I’ll have you know I don’t go throwin’ that ‘round willy-nilly, little lady” he assured, making you smile wider at him as you laughed. “I know, I’m a lucky woman to call you my husband” you replied sweetly, getting up on your tip toes to kiss him as you looped your arms around his neck once more.

Those were better days, days when things were so simple, times where all you had to worry about was nothing more than how long the pie was in the oven, or how your baby was doing. It was a pleasant memory, one you’d never forget as the last time you’d seen your husband since the war. That night flooded your memories each time you’d lay down to close your sunken in eyes, they were the only thing about you now that remained as human as they were back before you became a ghoul. You swore to yourself that you’d find him one day, swore that you would kill the bastards that started all this, that took your baby girl away from you before she had a chance at a good life and separated you from your husband. You prayed each and every night that he was still out there, still alive somewhere, roaming the wastelands like you were. You knew it was doubtful at best, maybe it was better if he wasn’t alive to live through the shit you have, to see the way you look, but one could only hope for the better things. You no longer looked the same way you used to back then. Your soft, nearly perfect skin was now marred and leathery, your teeth yellowed from radiation exposure, poor diet and lack of ability to actually care for them, and your nose was now missing completely from your face, a deep hole sitting where the cartilaginous appendage once did. You wondered if he would even love you still in this state, if he’d even recognize you. You couldn’t blame him if he didn’t, you weren’t that same woman anymore physically or emotionally. Anger and vengeance had a hold on your heart like a vice death grip, you were kind to those who deserved it sure, but to those who crossed you? Those who hurt you? Let’s just say there’s a reason you’re a feared bounty hunter out here in the wastelands and not in a vault somewhere.

You were walking into Filly one late morning, coming to pay a visit with Ma June to see if there was anything she needed, any bounty she may have had for you for some extra caps. Your supply of chems to keep you from going feral was running low, you were down to your last bottle in your inhaler, and in desperate need of more. As you strode into town, you pulled your bandana up over your nose, effectively covering your face below your eyes, your large hat casting a shadow on the rest. You weaved your way through the vendors as they were trying to shove goods at you and anyone who was behind or around you. As you waded though, your ears caught the sound of a deep, southern accent that sounded awfully familiar to you. “I ain’t interested unless you got RadAway” he spoke harshly to the vendor haggling him, and you had to do a double take. He sounded just like your husband. You turned in the hopes to place a body to the voice but by the time you could, he was already lost into the crowd, impossible to find amongst the sea of people now that he wasn’t speaking to anyone anymore.

You huffed to yourself, wondering if maybe you were just hearing things, or maybe you were just plain out delusional at this rate. It wouldn’t shock you, between the years of radiation exposure, radiation sickness, and everything in between, you wouldn’t be shocked to find out you’d gone mad. However you wanted ever so badly for it to have been him that was speaking. To run up to him, arms outstretched, tears down your face but a happy smile as you called his name. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t even find the man attached to the voice anymore so why make a fool and draw attention to yourself. No one took kindly to ghouls. So with a heavy heart, you pushed on, making it to the doorstep of Ma June’s shop when you heard him again. “50 caps? That’s just plain ridiculous. 30, take it or leave it” he bartered, making you turn around again, only this time you caught him. You spotted a man that was tall, around the same height as your husband, clad in a wild western style cowboy outfit. You thought it was familiar, from the hat all the way down to the boots, it reminded you of him but a lot of people out here in the wastes wore Wild West themed clothes, deeming themselves cowboys and cowgirls of the wild wastelands. You wished he would turn around, you needed to see his face, hell just his eyes would be enough to sate the curiosity that was eating away at you. You’d forever recognize those eyes, they were so unique, so him. So beneath the shade you stood, observing him from a distance to be safe. That was until Ma June saw you standing there through the window of her shop, and she had a job for you that was important so she couldn’t wait for you to be done with whatever it was your were doing before she drug you inside. “What are you standin’ around out here for? I got a job for you!” She exclaimed, grabbing you and pulling you inside right as the man turned to walk away. You groaned in frustration as your only chance at an answer was stolen from you, but little did you know that your commotion made him stop to watch curiously as you went inside. Something about that dress you were wearing looked awful familiar to him but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so he just kept walking.

As the next couple of days passed by, the curiosity was absolutely eating away at your mind. You wondered if you were on the brink of going feral with how your thoughts were screaming that it could have been him. You wished she would have waited until you could have gotten a better look at him than just his back and his clothes, though they felt familiar, akin to something he would have worn on the set to his movies, you just couldn’t be sure. So you continued on, traveling with a random person’s head in your bag, wrapped up in an old T-shirt that was soaked through with blood now as you were on your way back from your bounty for Ma June. It was a particularly hot day outside, one of those days where no matter how much water drank, you just couldn’t keep the heat away or the dehydration at bay. So as you sucked down the last of your water in your canteen, you did your best to stave off the coughing fit that was bubbling in the back of your throat like a horrible itch you just could never scratch. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t enough, and seeing as you hit your inhaler for the last of your supply yesterday, you were shit out of luck. Damn it, you were so close too, you felt it. You couldn’t go like this, not without finding him, not without avenging your child and going after those Vault-Tec bastards that stole her and your husband from you. “Damn it!” You choked out as you clutched your chest, your coughing fit sending you to your knees in the sand where you laid in the hopes that it would let up sometime soon and you could continue moving. This couldn’t be the end for you, it just couldn’t be. You wouldn’t let it.

As you laid there, throat burning as you were hacking up your lungs, you saw a figure walking along the horizon in the distance. You wondered if maybe this was what they spoke of when people said their loved ones come and take them away right before they pass, or maybe it was just another hallucination, all you knew is that they were coming closer and closer to you. You reached for your gun with all the strength you could offer through your coughing fit and weakened state, unsure of whether they were a raider or someone with just plain ill intention. As they drew closer, you looked up to see another ghoul stabbing before you, his cowboy hat casting a slight shade over his face but even through the tears in your vision you could see his eyes. They were gorgeous, they looked just like how you remember your husband’s looked the last time you had a chance to look into them, making you look him over but it was so hard to tell. He was a man who had succumbed to the same fate you did, leathery skin, no nose, ruined ears, but his eyes…god they were so familiar. You saw him cock his head while looking at you, investigating your features, you could tell there was something about you that he was intrigued with.

“I feel your pain there, sister” he said, that southern drawl coming out sounding just like him, and god how it made your heart ache. He bent down to see you better, taking a better look at you. “I’ll be damned if somethin’ ‘bout you ain’t familiar though” he said, making you look up at him, and in that moment as he looked into your eyes, he could have sworn it was you, his long lost wife. He held hope it his heart, but it was a cruel world out here, he couldn’t be sure. “Your eyes, they look a lot like my wife’s did” he said, and you took that as your chance to see if it was really him. “C-Coo…per…?” You rasped out the best you could, needing to know if it was really him, needing to know if he was alive or if you were just going crazy. His eyes went wide for a moment before reaching for his gun, making your heart jump in your chest with anxiety. “How do you know my name?” He asked coldly, his eyes looking angrily upon you and it made your heart wrench in your chest but beat fast all the same to know it was him. “Tell me! How do you know my name?” He said angrily, making you raise your hands up to show you weren’t dangerous, you cursed your inability to speak properly or else you’d have answered his question already. “Be..cause…we were…Mar…ried” you rasped out once more, showing him your wedding ring that he bought you that rested on your ring finger, making him soften up for just a moment. “After two hundred years… could it really be?” he asked softly to himself in disbelief, but once again, he reminded himself that this world was a cruel place where people stoop to things lower than they ever did before. To him, you could have been anyone, maybe no more than a random stranger who pick pocketed that precious ring off of his wife, a total stranger playing as his beloved to get to his weakness. He pointed his gun at you once more, making tears come to your eyes even more now, had you said something wrong? Why was he mad at you? You hadn’t left on bad terms last you remember, but then again it’s hard to remember as far back as two centuries. “How do I know, huh?” He asked aggressively, and you figured it was a valid worry, you knew how awful this world was now, you couldn’t blame him for needing the reassurance. He needed to be sure it was truly you. “How do I know it’s really you?” He asked, waiting for you to stop coughing long enough to give him an answer. “What’s…that look…for?” You asked, something you always asked him when he stared at you in awe, or when he looked at you right before you two went to bed, it was like your signature phrase. You weakly removed the bandana covering your face, trying your best to show him any bit of your features left that you could use to show him it was really you. “It’s me…Coop. Y/N…” you rasped as saliva began to well in your mouth at the sight of him, slowly losing control over yourself as time passed. He’d never dropped his gun so fast, or fell to his knees so quick in his entire life than in that moment, the only other time was the moment he found out you were pregnant with his child, dropping to his knees to kiss your belly and place his hands on it excitedly. “Oh my god…Y/N” he said in utter shock and disbelief that you were here, you were alive. You were a ghoul now which hurt him to know you suffered the same pain as him, but you were alive and that’s what mattered most to him, finally having found you after all the years spent hoping you were still alive out here.

“Here baby, here, hold on. I gotchya” he said, quickly grabbing his inhaler with a vial of the chems you’d run out of last night, never needing it more than in this moment to keep you from turning feral on him. He pressed it to your lips, pushing the plunger on it to get the chems in your system. You inhaled it like a breath of fresh cool air, sending you coughing once more but that itch was slowly fading away, you could breathe again. You looked up at him as you laid there weakly, your head in his lap. “My hero” you said weakly, trying to be funny but he was too caught up in looking into your eyes, getting himself to believe what was right in front of him. “Two centuries I’ve spent looking for you…” you said, your eyes scanning him and his features to assure yourself too that this was real, that he really was sitting here before you, alive and well. Or as well as one could be as a ghoul in the wastelands. You smiled as you teared up, seeing the tears in his eyes as he looked down at you, pulling you up and into a hug. “Oh god…I can’t believe you’re alive” he said, hugging you tight and you did the same, burying your face into his shoulder. “I could say the same to you. I always knew you were stubborn, too stubborn to go out the way the rest of the world did” you said, making him chuckle as stray tears ran down your marred cheeks. “I’ve been dreaming of this day…dreaming of the day I’d get to see you and B/N again…” he said, making you grip his duster as the tears flooded down your face even more when he said your baby girl’s name. “Cooper…” you said, making him pull away from you but you weren’t far, he made sure of it. “She…she didn’t make it, honey…I’m so sorry. I tried everything, believe me I did, but it was too late…” you said, making his heart absolutely break in his chest knowing his baby was gone and that he would never have the chance to see her again.

“What was she like? She was so young when it all happened” He asked, holding your hands in his as you two shared in this moment together. You smiled as your hand cupped his cheek softly, your thumb rubbing along his skin that shared the same texture as your own. “Just like her daddy. She had your gorgeous eyes, your beautiful smile and that same stubborn attitude” you said through a laugh, making him chuckle with you as his hand came to hold the back of yours as it touched him. He missed your loving touch, and that beautiful smile that he swore could light up even the darkest rooms. He could hardly believe that you’d still even touch or speak to him now, with the way he looked. He knew you likely held a sympathy for it, knowing all too well yourself what it was like but the fact that you weren’t scared or hateful like others were towards him for it. “She was smart, funny, kind…she was daddy’s baby girl. You’d have loved that about her. It was like a little slice of you was there in her, keeping me going. She gave me hope when it felt like there wasn’t any left in this world to hold onto” you said, seeing a few stray tears stream down his cheeks as you spoke of her. His stomach was in knots, his heart filled with anger and pain to know the wastelands claimed one of his own. “I wish I coulda been there, for both of you. Maybe she’d be here if I was” he said somberly, guilt lacing his tone as he leaned his forehead against yours, not caring if your hats would come off. He needed this, he needed you. “Hey, don’t blame yourself for what happened, you had nothing to do with it. It’s those vile people at Vault-Tec who did this. They took our baby, not you. Don’t you ever think this is your fault” you assured him, holding him close to you as he expressed the most emotion he’s felt in nigh on two centuries.

“We made it pretty good all things considered, held our own well for ten years. I taught her how to use a gun when she turned eight to keep her safe should anything happen to me, did everything in my power to keep her safe, fed and hydrated even on the hard days where supplies were sparse” you explained. “The radiation just became too much for her little body to handle. She was ten years old, I could hardly believe it. It was like I woke up one day and she wasn’t a baby anymore, our little girl had just grown up so fast” you said, remembering those days as tears clouded your vision, streaming down your cheeks like small rivers, watching the droplets fall into the sand beneath you. “I’m sorry Cooper, I’m so sorry…” you apologized, making him hold you tight and hush you as you did. “I shoulda been better…if I was better maybe she’d still be here now” you said, taking the blame for something you knew you had no control over, but it left you guilty all the same. “Shh, don’t go thinkin’ like that. I’d say from the sounds of it, ya did a damn fine job managin’ that long out in this shit hole just the two of you. You always were a great mom, and an equally great wife” he said, making you sniffle as you smiled at him at that reassurance. “I did all I could, there was hell to pay for anyone who stood in my way, that’s for sure” you said, making him chuckle because that was exactly how you were before the war too. You always wanted what was best for your family, and you were willing to go great lengths to keep your husband and child happy. “I know you said you been lookin’ for me for a long time…but I ain’t the same man I was back then” he started. “But I got a feelin’ you ain’t exactly the same woman anymore either, so maybe we can still work this out, you and me” he said, making you chuckle. “No, I’m not. And if that means you don’t love me anymore I-“ you spoke but you were cut off by the feel of his lips against your own. They were thinner now, dry and marred by radiation just like yours were, but you could still feel the passion behind it, the love in it. No amount of radiation could ever take that away. “You lettin’ all the radiation get to that brain of yours? Of course I still love you. I lost ya once, I ain’t losin’ you again, that’s for damn sure” he said, making you laugh as more tears fell, only these ones were happier ones now. You squeezed his hand that was in your own as your heart raced in your chest. “You have no idea how happy that makes me to hear, Coop” you replied, kissing him once more with all the passion two hundred years of separation could hold behind it. “I love you, and I’ve missed you so damn much” you said, pressing your foreheads together once more as you fought the tears that began to turn into a sob. “I love you too darlin’, missed you like crazy. The world ain’t been the same without you” he said, making you sniffle as you felt the same way. “And if you’ll still have me, I’d like to make that a world of the past” he added, making you chuckle tearfully. “Of course I will” you said, allowing his heart to rest assured that you were still his girl, making him smile as he looked down at you, his thumb rubbing along your cheek to wipe away your tears.

You smiled back up at him, your hand coming to the back of his as you remembered the moment from your birthday again all those years ago, slow dancing in the kitchen with him. “What’s that look for, hmm?”You asked, just like you did that day, making him grin as he thought of the right words to say. “Nothin’ just that I’m lucky enough to have married the most beautiful person on this earth” he replied, making you chuckle. It was just what you’d been needing to hear all this time. “And how lucky I am to have her back in my arms where she belongs” he added, making you giggle before kissing you once more. Desert be damned, Cooper had his wife back after so long spent searching for her, and he was going to make damn sure she knew how much he missed her all these years.

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #fallout #fallout x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #asks #request

[alchemicaladarna]

Hi sorry, I'm ill about the soul vulture arc again. Because q!Bad made choices in his grief, in his rage, thinking he will never feel an ounce of happiness again because he thought his kids were dead. Q!Bad's Acceptance was never of accepting that grief and learning to live after it, but rather, it was the silent admission that his children were dead and there was nothing he could do. No rage, no monster, no demon, no power in heaven or hell could bring them back. It was Acceptance. But the cruel twist of fate was the fact that he was wrong. Pomme, Dapper, and the other eggs were alive, actually. By the time he found out, however, it was already too late. He was long gone, and every choice has a consequence, and he suffered the consequences of his choices like hell.

Q!Bad was dead long before he fell in the lavender field one hundred feet away from the house his children built. One hundred steps away from his sleeping children he fought so hard to keep safe, under all costs. He died the night they were taken away, because they were his soul, his happiness. Everything that mattered in the millenia he's existed, nothing could compare to his children. He died that night; and all those months where it seemed like he was alive, where he was "healing" was the grim reaper bargaining with himself to hold on a little longer for his children.

Q!Bad loved Dapper and Pomme, and Richas, and all the eggs- he loved them so much it hurt. He loved them so much that love became his hell- his purgatory. Q!Bad loved them until the moment he finally stepped in his grave and couldn't bargain any more.

He deteriorated for months. He was literally melting from the inside. The vultures pecked at his body and fractured his soul. The radiation melted the skin off his limbs, and the brain inside his skull. It hurt like no other death, but if it meant seeing his kids for one more day, then that hell was more than worth it. And the physical pain wasn't the worst of it- no, eventually, he forgot his children's names, their faces, he forgot his own name, and he forgot himself. Memories slipping away like lost fragments of time. Until his death, when he was barely himself anymore.

People noticed, but never really did anything to stop it did they? I mean, who are we kidding, even if anyone spoke up, nothing they could have done would have prevented the inevitable. Dapper knew the fate his father subjected himself to. She knew what scars from soul vultures looked like, and she tried to find a cure. He tried, when he still had his lab, but there was never enough time. No science or magic could ever remedy what was already destined to happen.

And Pomme, sweet Pomme, stayed with her father until the end. She gave him health potions- "medicine"- to help his ailments. And she had so much hope she lived in denial- she thought he was getting better. But the truth is that the memory lapses and the illness never ceased because no medicine could ever resurrect a fractured soul clinging on to his deceased body.

Then Q!Bad finally relinquished himself to the sweet mercy of death. And when he arrived, he found the promise of paradise- the promise of Home, where he would never have had to suffer a painful hell again. But he chose to come back to live and to suffer once more because this time, his children were waiting on the other side. For the first time, the scales were balanced, and his happiness was halved because he had a home that was worth living in, and a life that was worth living. For the first time in the millennia q!bad had been alone, he had love. And that was enough.

The story has always been about love and loss, and the beauty of love and life, despite that loss. That's why the soul vultures arc is my favorite, and also why I nearly cried halfway through writing this. Because love thrives in spite of the loss, and the grief, and the personal hell. When death comes, and it always does, and time has eroded every portrait, or photograph, or memory- all that is left is love. And that love is hope, as well as grief. It is joy and sadness. It is heaven and hell. It is simply love.

#qsmp #qsmp badboyhalo #badboyhalo #qsmp dapper #qsmp pomme #qsmp analysis #character analysis #i had a shit day and i actually did start crying after writing this man ansndnfnfnend #anyways...soul vulture arc my beloved #it was death and love and hope and horror all tied up in a beatifully devastating tragedy #tw death #tw gore #<-slightly mentioned #sorry its been 2 fucking months and im still not over it #long post #qsmp richarlyson #qsmp eggs

[allylikethecat]

"my poor baby, i'm so sorry." this has potential

Hello dearest anon! Last week I said that I would write any new prompt I got first in exchange for feedback on the new All the King's Horses chapter. I have no idea if you sending me this prompt and then THREE whole super lovely comments appearing on that fic are related BUT in case they are, I have done my very best to fill this super fun prompt from the Reactions to making someone cry prompt list! If anyone else wants to send any fun prompts from that list, it can be found HERE.

ALSO I know I haven't filled any of these in a while but I promise I will / am going to get through all of the ones in my inbox eventually! I am a little out of practice so I'm not sure if this is my best work... BUT I tried and also I finished it so I'm counting that as a win! Thank you for taking the time to send it! I hope you enjoy it and are having a lovely Thursday and a great rest of your week!

❤️Ally

"my poor baby, i'm so sorry."

WARNINGS: mentions of past drug abuse, broken bones

Matty managed to hold it together until he was backstage. Sharp, shooting, stabbing pain moving up his ankle with each labored breath. He didn’t dare put weight on it, trying to breathe slowly, even as his lungs screamed desperately for more oxygen, having just completed a two hour show. He felt dizzy and untethered, his head fuzzy with pain as he stumbled over to one of the black gear trunks, “The 1975” spray painted in white stenciled letters on the side. He dropped down heavily onto the trunk, banging his ankle on the side as he did so, gasping in shock. He squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t going to cry, he refused to cry. He was alright, he tried to tell himself, cautiously trying to put some of his weight on his foot before recoiling as the burning pain intensified. He wasn’t alright. 

He’s not sure how long he sat there, his head bowed in a silent prayer to the various Gods he didn’t believe in, his curls falling limp and greasy with sweat over his face, begging for the strength to just get up. The rest of the crew were moving around him, packing up the gear and the stage. He’s not sure where the guys went, everyone having their own post show protocol, their own method for dealing with the come down from the rush of another sold out show well done. Matty himself used to get so high he didn’t exist anymore, at least not on the corporeal plane. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He didn’t do that anymore. (He wondered if it would numb the pain in his ankle.)  

“Are you just staying here then?” George asked, a bite to his tone, traces of the fight, the argument they had been having before they had put it aside to take the stage present in his voice. Matty opened his eyes, blinking wetly and looking up at George who seemed to loom over him, his arms crossed over his chest, his body language closed off. He had showered, his hair damp, a wet patch showing on the gray fabric of his tee shirt, clinging to skin that hadn’t been fully dried. Matty was still in his stage clothes, the damp fabric clinging to his dried sweat coated skin giving him a chill. 

He shrugged, he didn’t want to fight with George anymore, even though he was the one that had initiated it that afternoon. Throwing out snide, biting comments, looking for George’s soft underbelly, trying to hit where he knew it would hurt the most, purely so that he could feel something. George had resisted at first, meeting Matty with love and care and sympathy until he eventually, as always, pushed too far and George had snapped. Matty had relished in it before, his blood pumping as he smiled cruelly, getting up in George’s face as George yelled back, giving him everything that he wanted and didn’t know how to ask for. 

Matty swallowed hard, his ankle hurt, he was pretty sure it was broken, and he didn’t want to fight anymore. 

“Not going to say anything?” George asked, his spark still burning, still pushing, looking for the same kind of weakness Matty had exploited earlier. 

Matty just shrugged again, curling in on himself. He didn’t want to fight. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to tell George he was sorry he had started a fight, that he was wrong and hadn’t meant it. He wanted to tell him he loved him, and he was hurting and that he needed him. But if he opened his mouth he was pretty sure that he was going to start crying. He was emotionally and physically worn out. He was scared and he was in pain, he just wanted George to hold him and tell him it was all going to be alright. They were supposed to be packing up and headed to their next tour stop within the hour, traveling overnight to get to the next city. There were twenty seven shows left on this leg of the tour. Matty couldn’t afford to have broken his ankle. 

“Matthew,” said George, his voice so cold, and Matty, already feeling so worn thin, couldn't help it. He opened his mouth to answer, to tell him to fuck off, to apologize, to say absolutely anything, and instead he ended up taking a shaky breath and instantly burst into tears. 

George recoiled, clearly surprised, clearly having thought that Matty was being difficult for the sake of being difficult, not that there was actually something wrong.

“Matty?” he asked cautiously, carefully, glancing around the backstage area as if he would find the cause of Matty’s tears mingling with the trunks and extension cords. “Matty love what’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry,” Matty said with a hiccup, “I’m sorry I was being a dickhead earlier, and I’m sorry I just fucked up the tour, and I’m just I’m sorry.”

“Fucked up the tour? What are you talking about?” George asked, sitting down carefully next to Matty, gauging his reaction before cautiously wrapping an arm around his trembling shoulders. “And it’s alright, couples fight,” said George softly, pressing a kiss to the side of Matty’s head, all of the fight drained out of him. “I know we’ll get past it.”

“I think I broke my ankle,” said Matty with a sniffle, “I rolled it during the last song and I could feel something pop.” He took a shaky breath, “it really hurts.” 

George stood up, “let me take a look,” he said, moving to kneel down in front of Matty. He made the assumption that it was the left ankle bothering Matty by the cautious way he was holding his leg and reached forward to steady his foot so that he could unlace his converse sneaker. Matty, never one to handle pain well, gasped in surprise and kicked out, hitting George in the chin and causing another pulse of pain to move up his leg. 

George swore, stumbling back as he held onto his face. 

“Fuck,” said Matty with a hiccup, “fuck I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” said George carefully, moving his jaw back and forth, confirming that everything was aligned correctly. He was even more careful this time, his fingers barely ghosting over Matty’s ankle as he unlaced the sneaker, then rolled up his pant leg and carefully removed his sock. He sucked in a breath, not even making a comment about how sweaty Matty had gotten, as he took in how swollen the joint was, and the purple hue that the limb had taken on. 

Matty couldn't bring himself to look at it. “How bad is it?” he asked wetly. If it looked even half as bad as it felt, he knew it wasn’t going to be good. 

“My poor baby,” said George softly, “I’m so sorry.” He paused, “I think you’re right, I think it is broken.” 

Matty just hiccuped wetly in response. 

#allylikethecat #ask ally #anon ask #fanfiction #keep it kind #gatty #matty fic #fanfic #prompt fills #prompts #prompt fill #Reactions to making someone cry prompts #Reactions to making someone cry prompt fill #Reactions to making someone cry #thank you so much to everyone who sends me prompts #i promise i really will eventually write all of them #i am so grateful for all the support and kindness that i have been met with #and also the patience #thank you!! #I hope you like this one!

[good-beanswrites]

Hello again, I'm here to request once more. Feel free to take all the time you need btw! I would always be patient for your wonderful works ^^

This time I'd like to request from the Drabble List#2 - 47 with the 020607 Trio (mainly Mahiru though). And yes, this is hugely inspired by that one minigram with Mahiru. And as usual, feel free to change the scenario and/or the characters.

Thank you again, good luck with your future studies and take all the time you need!!

Woo thank you so much!! :'D This one was a ton of fun (and once again led me to get smacked in the face with unlikely character parallels I wasn't aware of before). It's from Kazui's pov but it's still mainly about Mahiru. I ended up going canon-compliant, but I did consider sticking super close to the minigram and do a little normal-au where Mahiru drags them across Japan to make a perfectly homemade cake 😅

Everyone knew Mahiru had a tough time distinguishing genuine from joke, but Kazui hadn’t expected it to come back to bite him. Mahiru wasn’t stupid by any means; sometimes she just forgot that others weren’t as unabashedly honest as herself. When she said something, she meant it. Kazui… not so much.

Which is why, following a conversation about her skills in the kitchen, in response to being pressed about his own household, he thought it would be inconsequential to utter the following words to her.

“Bake me a cake, and we’ll talk.” 

Kazui had laughed his booming laugh, Mahiru had giggled in her sweet little way. Neither realized what had just transpired.

That is, until Yuno dragged Kazui across the prison the following day to make him aware of the monster he had released upon the kitchens. The two hurried over to find a massive operation underway: Mahiru had several layers in the works, she was stirring multiple fruit fillings, decoration choices scattered across the countertop, and anyone who dared venture too close was shooed away with a slap from her wooden spoon. 

It took a few minutes to get the situation all worked out.

“So… you didn’t really want a cake…?” She asked, pausing mid-stir. Her eyes were so big and round.

Yuno came to the rescue. “Of course he does!” She interrupted. “Everyone here would die for a taste of your baking~” 

Kazui nodded. “I just didn’t mean for you to work so hard for my sake. I’m really not worth all this effort…”

Mahiru’s jaw fell, offended on his behalf. “Yes you are!” Her attention was momentarily caught by a timer chiming. Kazui took the bowl from her so she could take a pan from the oven. He picked up where she left off stirring. 

“Either way, why don’t I help you out?” Yuno had grabbed some ingredients from the counter as well. “While we bake, I’ll tell you a little bit about myself. A little,” he repeated. 

And he did. Her questions were easier than he’d expected. While the others knew how to poke and prod about each other’s murders, Mahiru really did just want to know about his home life. While she buzzed around the kitchen switching pans and creating intricate icing patterns, she asked him about his childhood, his hobbies, his job. As soon as she saw his wife was a touchy subject, she let it drop (though with a bit of disappointment, to be sure). He scrambled a bit as Yuno the human lie detector would shoot him a look now and then. Overall, though, his measured answers managed to satisfy both women without giving much of himself away.

When they carried the spectacular cake into the common room to everyone’s amazement, Mahiru prodded him with her elbow.

“We should talk more! I mean, come on. How difficult was that?”

If only she knew the half of it.

———

“Hey, Mahiru.” Kazui traded weak smiles with Yuno as he joined her by the bed.

“Oh. Hi Kazui,” came her weak voice. She tried her best to smile under the tangle of bandages that surrounded her. Then, silence. 

Aside from a few coughs and small requests, that silence stretched on for hours. He and Yuno usually had a lot to talk about, but neither could muster anything up today.

He thought Mahiru had dozed off, but she surprised him by taking his hand. “Kazui?”

“Yes?”

“Do you really think I’m unforgivable?” 

He blinked. “I can’t really say.” 

The moment the words left his lips, he knew they were the wrong ones. Well, the glare that Yuno was trying to murder him with also helped. “Er, I forgive you, of course. But… I don’t know anything about you, Mahiru. Not really. I can’t say why others would think you’re unforgivable or not.” 

“...I see.”

Yuno looked like she wanted to add something, but couldn’t find the words. Traces of emotions flickered over her face before she could cover them up. Kazui guessed she wanted to defend Mahiru. But maybe she also agreed with him. And that was when the realization struck him.

“I guess, I always thought you were so much better than me and Yuno when it came to talking about yourself. You do it all the time, and very easily. But now that I think about it, I probably know just as much about your situation as you know about mine. For such an honest person, you hide everything just like we do. Or maybe, you hide from everything, like we do.”

More silence.

A teary smile appeared on her face. “You know… you could bake me a cake… and maybe we’ll talk.”

Kazui didn’t laugh, and she didn’t giggle. He nodded, solemnly. “I think that’s a good idea.”

#milgram #mahiru shiina #kazui mukuhara #yuno kashiki #i know yuno faded a bit into the background but shes in the same boat as kazui ;-; #i love that minigram so much asdfdsf she would have such massive ambitious projects 😅 #(and if the day 16 feast is any proof we know she really can pull them off!!) #so i think she could make this spectacular cake with limited prison resources -- the problem is no one is actually asking her to... #i know all the prisoners arent super open about their crimes but like if you ask the others directly it feels like theyll say a few things #even just to defend themselves #but yuno-mahiru-kazui may not even give you that much... #also picturing kazui very bad at baking so yuno definitely helps him with that cake he promises mappi :') #thank you so much for your kind words and patience ahh <3 #i actually struggled a lot with this one (as in it took a while to physically write despite having the ideas early on) so it meant a lot ✨ #i was so obsessed with this one -- #one day i want to expand that first section and play out their actual conversation - i just love the concept of them baking and chatting #yuno coughing or bumping into kazui every time she can tell hes lying #mahiru subtly hiding things too without realizing #and cake shenanigans of course #it was way too much to cram into a drabble without getting lost but i do want to eventually 😤 #and thank you-- studies are going well 😤 wishing you well in your current endeavors! #drabbles

[orcelito]

i miss akechi goro so much. maybe even enough to finally finish that ladue chapter 3

#speculation nation #ladue shit #listen hes such an asshole and i NEEEEEEED to channel his voice for a bit again #if this urge persists to tomorrow i'll crack open the fic again. for a little reread. #this will satisfy only approximately 53 people (the total subscribers to that fic) #which ok that's actually a good few people when i think about them as actual people #but it's the least amount of subscriptions i have out of most of my multichapters #EVEN STILL. it's a matter of pride and self-satisfaction. #and god fucking damn i have 18k for chapter 3 already written. i literally just need to close the damn scene up #it's been over a YEAR NOWWWWWWWWWW like holy fucking shit. i need this OUT ALREADYYYYYYYYYYY #ladue chapter 3 i will free you into the abyss. i cannot promise more than chapter 3 but i can promise a chapter 3 at least. #i had a whole plan for the fic but idk if i'll ever be able to write it #considering it's taken like. ... years. between chapters. #it took me 2 years to post chapter 2 and it's been a year now since then. ugh. #see the thing is chapter 3 closes the initial arc of them starting to date. and then there's more stuff. #maybe i'll keep it open just in case the urge strikes me to continue it eventually. #and if it never does. i might make a 4th chapter that outlines the eventual plans i had for the fic. so that people know at least. #ive seen that a Few times for discontinued fics. #....but the thing is i dont want to mark any of my fics discontinued!!!! theyre all my darlings!!! i want to go back to them all eventually #i'll just have to see. if a chapter 4 ends up taking several more years. well. maybe it'll be time to call it there. who fucking knows lol #i'll try to get chapter 3 finished sometime soon though. i really want to have it out already.

[honeyteacakes]

///

#I'm feeling very under the weather but I really want to write :( #i have a massive backlog of WIPs I want to get through #and I'm SO SO excited for all the prompts I've been sent so far #(please keep sending them if you like- i promise I'll get to them eventually) #but right now my head is all stuffed up and i've been a bit lightheaded for the past couple days and :(((((((((( #and i have chores and tasks and such #anyways i'm going to have to force myself to pause on writing for a bit to make myself rest and hopefully I'll feel better soon #honey speaks

[an-eala-bhan]

Me: I’m gonna write about something other than matchablossom

Also me: *only writes matchablossom*

#why am i like this #writing #matchablossom #fanfic #kojiro nanjo #kaoru sakurayashiki #sk8 the infinity #look im sorry #i promise i will #eventually #but the matchablossom brain rot is real #i just love them a lot #but I would really like to write some zukka soon #one day #at least I’m writing again #ive missed it #I’ve got a fic written #all I need to do is edit and upload it #I’ll upload it on Saturday like usual #hope people enjoy it

[timoothy]

have this whole story idea in my head where charlotte accidentally kills sam and then proceeds to hide his body and no one suspects it was her but she feels a bit guilty about it so she tells her therapist and he like reaches for the phone to call the police so she kills him too and then hides his body and it becomes this whole thing where she like keeps accidentally killing a guy idk what happens then though, i think in the end her and sylvia run away together

#she doesn't kill ted though #because i like him so much #i think ted would be like #they would have had a thing in the story but it's over by now and ted is in a loving relationship with bill because i love that for them #i think i do want ted to find out though #like him and bill are on a walk or sth and there is charlotte on her bike and like her bike carrier is still all bloody after she dumped the #body in the forrest or sth #and they do see it but they pretend they didn't becuase sam sucks anyway #and eventually ted is like 'you're not killing all the guys you slept with are you?' and she's like not planning to kill you no and #they're besties #anyway yeah that's the pitch #if you wanna read it as bad as i do then i'm sorry but i don't know how to write things anymore #maybe someday though #like i really want to write it someday but i don't wanna promise anything so have this post instead #mine #charlotte sweetly #hatchetfield universe #@nick and matt lang if you guys wanna do this feel free btw #murder tw #? #murder mention

[hold-him-down]

So how it is like for Leo if he had to be hospitalized for being delirious?

How would Luke react to finding him that way?and how would Leo react to the staff..and how would they handle him?

Can you alaborate on that?

Or please give us the promised AU aftercare you talked about

Like um dying here

Can't wait till February😭🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

ok so this has been in my inbox since jan 9, 2022 and i'm gonna start working through some super old asks -

first, i'm answering this one now, because the hospital arc is gonna be slightly different than this (he won't be hospitalized for being delirious), but you'll get the leo reacting to the staff, the staff handling him (and poorly, almost exclusively), and luke reacting to this whole nightmare.

second, the promised aftercare AU is... the rob one (although that's canon not au)? what is this promised AU aftercare? send help.

third, because the parker arc? WHAT DID I PROMISE IN FEB OF 2022 LMAO i suck i suck i suuuccckkkk (*as cathy)

#hospital arc is coming #soon #ish #anonymous #broken promises #although #i dont know if promise is the right word #i am sure that i said i'd write things eventually and i will but surely i *stars emoji* promised *stars emoji* no timeline lol #i do remember really shooting for the parker kidnapping arc feb 2022 #how i failed that one #parker arc feb 2023 #the fighter #when i tell you i have held onto all these asks and watered them and fed them and cared for them as my own #if you sent an ask with a request over the last one year and four months #and feel that its been ignored #it's still in my ask box and will come at the most unexpected time im sure

[legolasghosty]

The Crane Angsty Stuff 👀

Hello!!!! Thanks for the ask! I should have known you'd ask about that one! /t /aff

Okayyyy, so that's a five second thought that got way out of hand and has now formed a bunch of AU lore in my head. Essentially, Alex is a prince in a old timey kingdom, where magic exists but what doesn't exist is much in the way of anxiety disorder research. So Alex's parents are freaked when their kid starts having panic attacks, and since none of the magic people can do anything about it, they just isolate him.

Well, Alex gets sick of this after like 15 years or something and sneaks out into the city. There he meets the rest of the gang and is starting to build a life for himself out there before he's caught and taken back to the castle. So the part I have written currently is Alex in his room, remembering his friends and resolving to find a way back to them.

Here's a snippet!

Alex takes a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth like Willie taught him. It helps a bit. The thought of Willie and his friends does too. He’s going to get back to them. He isn’t sure how yet, but he will. He has to. Now that he’s had a taste of the sun, of real work and friends and love, he doesn’t think he can live without it anymore.

How is he supposed to go on reading the same books and playing his drums and drawing the same view out the windows now that he knows the rush of adrenaline that comes from beating Bobby at chess? How can he rest easy on his own now that he knows how much fun it is to read stories to Carlos before bed? What is he supposed to do with his hands now that they have been taught how to weave Flynn’s long, dark hair into rows of braids?

What’s the point in singing alone now that he’s heard the way his tone mixes with Julie’s and Luke’s and Reggie’s and Bobby’s to the sound of the piano in the Molina’s sitting room? Why bother trying to make his hair presentable when Reggie isn’t there to mess it up? Who needs wisecracks when there’s no one to laugh at them?

Love you!!!!

(Ask me questions about any of my wips that intrigue you!)

#legolas tag #legolas answers asks #yeah this whole au kinda got out of hand #there's way too much lore floating around in my head about it now #I wanna write so many one shots #like of Alex growing up #and him running away and meeting everyone #and their time together #and then this bit would be after he gets caught #and eventually he'd make his way back to them for good #cause I like happy endings #but I really don't have the time or energy to write it!!! #hence the fact that I'm not responding to this till like 10:30 pm #when I got it like 2 days ago #I literally have not had time to just sit down and answer these and it makes me sad #anyways #I promise I'll get through them all in the next couple of days! #sorry for the million tags

[septembersghost]

dear anon, i don't feel comfortable posting that ask, not out of lack of care for you, only out of deference and sensitivity for the rest of my followers in case anyone might find it triggering, but i am so sorry that you're struggling, and that you lost a friend who was hurting too. i really think you need to speak to someone if that is at all an option for you - please look into local resources, you can't manage this by yourself and you shouldn't have to be alone in it. there's no promise i can make to you that this will simply get better, i know life doesn't always work that way and sometimes it feels like the ground is slipping out from under you, and it's a constant fight to keep going and pushing through each day, and that can hurt and be exhausting, but you deserve to be here. you also deserve a safe place where you can be heard and given support to begin to heal. when it can be better even for only a moment, even for only a song or a page or a dream, those are anchors worth holding onto. healing itself isn't an easy or painless (or linear) process, i grapple with it constantly myself, though our situations may be quite different, but i believe, i know, that you have that strength and that you're worthy of it. even if you can only move little by little, one day at a time, that's valuable, that still has hope in it. the smallest things add up, and sometimes you will stumble into the light without even realizing it was there. i care that you're here. staying alive is enough. and so are you.

#not to get too graphic but since i do struggle with ideation off and on and have for 13 years...i know it's crushingly hard at times #i'm a little distanced from things atm so it's easier for me to confront this right now but for essentially the past three and a half years #i have lived in a constant state of contemplating when i'd have to die and how that could happen #i know it feels alternately terrible and tempting #and i'll be honest i still can't guarantee to anyone that eventually...you know? i can't realistically make that promise. #so all i can do is try each day to stay afloat and to cherish the time i have while it's here #and to love the things and people i'm so lucky to love while i have them. which is all ANY of us can do really #we never know what our time will be or how much we'll be given. but i do know that it's precious and it's worth having #the fact that you're alive is a miracle. i think of that so often it's practically a prayer. #viktor frankl said what is to give light must endure burning and i think about that too #i think about leonard cohen writing there's a crack in everything that's how the light gets in #i think about buffy saying strong is fighting. it's hard and it's painful and it's every day. it's what we have to do. #you have intrinsic value and you are enough and you deserve to be here #anonymous #letterbox #suicidal ideation tw

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either part 2

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[thank you for the love on part one, I’m so happy Azriel is getting the love he deserves!!!! This is another long one, another 6k. But I’ve learnt a new love for writing about him and i have so many ideas. This is a continuation and final part, part one here. Enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

The third time Azriel almost lost you, he was pretty sure he lost a part of himself.

They'd all gone into battle, knowing that Hybern had the numbers to match and the advantage. But they'd all gone to fight in spite of that.

It had took some time for you to get the boys to agree to let you fight- you'd trained and grew up with all three of them but this was fighting on another scale. Although, if they were going, there really wasn't much they could say to get you to stay.

You were clad in Illyrian leathers just like them, armed with weapons and power.

The first battle was over quicker than you'd anticipated. Hybern soldiers surrendered, Tarquin drowned them on land. You'd suffered little, only falling on bed exhausted by the end of the day. Sadly, you were sharing a tent with Cassian and Azriel. It was like you were young again, all sleeping in the same room. It was a habit you'd done when you were young- all looking out and protecting each other.

The only difference was that Cassian snored as he got older.

But the next battle was worse.

It was bigger than last. Hybern's forces had doubled, seemingly at of nowhere, cutting their forces apart.

It was chaos, everywhere. Every corner there was fighting and bleeding and dying. There was pain all around you. Pain you felt like it was your own.

You used all your power, as much as you could to kill and protect. From the corner of your eyes you could see Azriel fight. Your Azriel, weaving in and out of people. Your mate. He was alive. And that was all you cared about.

But you didn't realise how much you'd been pushing herself and draining your power. Every time you stopped, you swayed on your feet, stumbling.

One of Hyberns men came for you as you were crouched and you barley blocked with your sword, rolling onto your back and slashing his arm off.

Not before he landed a sword in your thigh.

It had been deep burning and you yelled, yanking it out. Even with the wound, you kept fighting and fighting your way through until you saw a blaze of red and a familiar cry.

Cassian.

He'd been run through.

It was easy to push past exhaustion and winnow to his side, killing the man who'd been near him and any others that had been close enough. You fall to your knees next to him. 'Cassian, you prick.'

'You kiss your mate with that mouth,' he gasped. He was the only one who knew about Az and the bond. The only one you'd allow to make jokes.

You look down to his wound and gaged. Mother above, his guts were hanging out. 'No, no, no, come on, big guy, you have to stand.'

He groaned. 'Yea, don't think I can do that, sweetheart,' his eyes, lulled back.

You slap him in the face. Perhaps you wouldn't have felt guilt if it weren't for the way his eyes widened. 'You know I hate being called that.'

He laughed as his stomach and all its contents heaved out. Ignoring the pain in you, you hold his stomach, keeping him together. 'I promised Nesta i'd look after her,' he said. 'Please look after her.'

'Do it yourself,' you groaned.

Finally, Azriel came to your side and picked Cassian up like it was nothing, flying him to the tents. If only you still had your wings, you could have done it, saved him quicker.

Then, you were thrown back into the battle. Covered in his blood and yours, you fought through them all, slashing and killing like it was nothing. Like you had no reason to bat an eyelash at anything happening.

Eventually, it ended, but you couldn't even concentrate on who won or how much you'd lost. Your head ached, your leg was tied up in a bloody bandage ripped from your clothes. But none of that mattered.

Cassian was in bed, healing slowly. But he would live, everyone could tell. Especially with the way he picked fights. He argued with Rhys about throwing himself into danger, him and Nesta appeared to be having words with their eyes. Even Mor and Feyre argued. You were the only one silent with Azriel in the back. Too exhausted to even open your mouth.

That night, you tied up your wounds and fell asleep without changing.

It only got worse.

Elain- Feyre's sister and the most precious- was stolen from Hybern. You had only agreed to go and save her with a few selected others because your mate was in that few selective others.

It hadn't escaped your notice how he looked at her, was watchful over her like he once was with you. You saw the tick in his jaw at the news she was gone. You knew that this was the reason you hadn't told him. Knowing that he deserved someone like her, better than you. Kind and hopeful. You weren't. So the only thing you could do was watch your mate find love in someone else.

And you'd do it grudgingly but happy for him.

Azriel had took of with her. You and your high lady fought, fought through ash arrows and everything.

'You should get out of her, y/n,' said Feyre.

You groaned as an arrow skimmed your shoulder. Another had already got your hip. 'If you try to order me out of here, i'll be really pissed off at you.'

'I don't care if it gets you out!' she snapped, arguing like a real sister would.

'Yea, well- I was never one to listen to Rhys either.'

And Azriel was gone. Everything was fine.

You and Feyre ran, ran even as Tamlin defended you, ran until-

An arrow hit you in the back, straight to one of your old wing scars.

You tumbled, rolling on the ground as it broke and imbedded in your back. You screamed, in spite of yourself.

'You have to fly,' someone was telling you. Or saying it in general, frankly you had no idea what was going on. 'You have to take her.'

You rolled onto your stomach, groaning and trying to get yourself up. There was blood running down your arm, how did that get there?

'Y'n.'

You groaned, 'Azriel. I can't fly.'

'I know, I know- i've got you.' He picked you up, arm under your legs and around your shoulders.

'Elian, Azriel-'

'Feyre has her,' he told you. He sounded angry. Or afraid. Somehow his emotions were very easy to mix up.

'Feyre isn't strong enough.'

'She'll have to be.'

'You should take them, Elian-'

'I don't give a fuck about Elian right now, y'n.'

Just like that, he took off with you in his arms and your blood raining down on the camp of Hybern. You could barley hear anything over the wind... but you could feel it.

Something had tugged painfully at the bond, throwing you into a scream. Something had happened to Azriel. You twisted in his arms, finding gashing claw marks in his back from one of the hounds that had chased them down. His face was bleached white in pain, his hold on you tight.

Glancing around, you could just see Feyre in a blur of people.

'Azriel-' you gasped. He was in pain, so much pain.

He didn't say anything, just squeezed you tighter and looking ahead, barking orders as Feyre flew for the first time in need, in desperation. You remembered what that was like, trusting your life in them. But Azriel's wings, they were bleeding out. You remembered the pain. You'd go through it every day to spare him a minute of it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You and Azriel landed back in the camp in a blur of pain.

Even with him leaving a trail of blood, he managed to set you down like you were porcelain. You didn't cry out. You didn't yell for help. You threw his arm over your shoulder and supported him.

Nesta and Rhys rushed to Feyre.

You hated your brother for a long moment.

Elain wondered over, chained but whole.

Azriel moved from you, checking on Elian. You only managed to watch them as she kissed his cheek.

The pain came to you then. Your head, shoulder, back. You turned from the crowd of family. Elain moved to hug her sister, Rhys stayed at Feyre's side.

Thesan, someone you barley knew as more than a healer, came to you first but you pushed him away, pushed him to Azriel. 'His wings. Heal him, or i'll rip you to pieces.'

He didn't have to be told twice.

You stumbled your way to camp, to your little tent. You didn't share it with Cassian anymore as he was still healing and Azriel would be a while- needing healing of your own.

You collapsed on the bed, promising to look after yourself- just after your nap.

You were so fast asleep you didn’t even hear Azriel come in and sigh at the sight of you…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel was fighting when it happened. Specifically, when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

No, he wasn't completely healed. But he had to fight. He wouldn't push himself, he knew that would be stupid. But he wouldn't watch as everyone fought. As you fought. He'd hardly seen you. He knew your back would be in pain. He knew you'd be in pain and you were still fighting, so far from him and out of reach.

He was thinking of you when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His soul sang it, his heart rose with it.

His shadows whispered it.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

y/n.

And the first thing he felt over the bond wasn't happiness or love. It was pain. It was death.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

In spite of the pain in his wings, how he'd been told not to fly, he did. He jumped into the skies, soaring over armies and dead to find you. He followed that pain, he followed the bond until he found you.

You, lying in your own blood. Again.

He fell next to you, his power eradicating anywhere near you. They dissovled, the ground cracked under him and his syphons shone in raw power.

'y/n?' he held your body, shaking you. Blood, so much. A sword had torn through your gut. 'Don't do this to me.'

Mate. Mate. Mate.

You cough, a thin stream of blood rolling from your lips. 'Azriel?'

'You're mine,' it was the first thing he could bring himself to say. 'You're my mate. Y/n. You have to hold on, ok? I'm gonna-gonna get you to safety.'

Something like a laugh escaped you, your body wracking with it. 'Of course, finally snaps for you as i'm dying.'

Snaps for you. Mate. Mate.

She knows, his shadows sung. She's known.

Azriel called out to Rhys in every way he could. 'We're gonna be fine. We're gonna be mates, y/n. You have to live, you understand?'

'Not really.' your eyes flutter shut.

'No!' he yelled, shaking you again.

'What's happened?' Rhysand landed next to him, blanking when he saw you in Azriel's arms, bleeding to death. How many times did this have to happen? How many times would you throw yourself into danger?

'She's my mate,' Azriel repeated. He tested it out loud, speaking it to the mother. How cruel was she? to give him this then try to take her away. Well, the mother wouldn't get that chance. Azriel would fight her if she tried to lay a hand on your life.

'What?' said Rhys.

'My mate,' he all but growled as Rhys got closer.

He put a hand on the back of Azriels neck, a hand on your head. 'We have to save her, Az.' he knew all about mating of course, knew that Azriel wanted nobody around her. But this was too save her. 'She's my sister too, the last sister I have. I care about her to.'

Azriel wanted to throw a thousand insults his way but refrained. If not because he was high lord, but also because you were dying.

They got you to safety, Azriel carrying you through to a tent.

'Y/n?!' Cassian rushed over, seeing you in his brothers arms, bleeding out and unresponsive.

Azriel pushed past him, setting you down on the bed. 'Get everyone, every healer now.' He had no idea who he was trying to demand, but he couldn’t watch this, couldn’t see you in.

You were still in your bed. Behind him, Feyre rushed to her mate, wrapping her arms around his torso as your brother stared at you in muted horror.

Azriel was leaning over you, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘She’s my mate.'

'What?' Said Cassian, ‘She told you?'

Azriel felt the world stop around him. Not did you know about the bond and hadn’t told him, you’d told someone else? Cassian? His hand stilled in brushing your hair back, his shadows coaxing you instead.

Rhysand spoke what Azriel wanted to scream. 'You knew?'

'She-She told me,'

Azriel had always had an iron fist control on his emotions, as relied on to be spy master, he had to. But his patience was hanging on by a thread. You were still bleeding out and nobody had come and Cassian knew. Cassian knew about his mate before he did.

His shadows caressed you and, leaving you in the coolness of their touch, he leapt up, marching around the bed toward him.

Rhys was quicker, a hand on Azriels chest to stop him. 'Calm, brother.'

'Calm?' He seethed. 'When-how long have you known?' He shouted.

Cassian breathed out, pushing his hair back . His wings were tucked in behind him. 'She told me, before she went under the mountain.'

Even Rhysand let him go, blowing out air and throwing his arms over his head as Feyre gasped.

Azriel stumbled, a hand to his chest. His shadows were divided between him and caring for you. 'Fifty years,' he gasped.

You’d known for fifty years- possibly longer and hadn’t said a word.

He was panicking, his breath escaping him. His shadows settled uneasy around him. And the only person who was capable of calming him was laying unconscious.

Thesan burst in, knowing the injured already and working on you quickly.

Azriel almost launched at him, just for touching you. The reasonable part of him knew he needed to touch to heal, but the part that was your mate wanted him dead.

Cassian held him back, physically.

Azriel glowered at him. 'I wouldn’t touch me if i were you, brother,' he practically spat the words.

Rhysand left Feyre with a kiss on her cheek, coming to Azriel who was looking over you on the other side. 'Az, you need to rest-you’re hurt, too, remember?'

He shook his head, staring down at you. Mother above you were pale, so pale. 'I-I can’t feel anything Rhys, I can’t feel her through the bond.'

'My sister is a fighter, she’ll make it through.'

Azriel scoffed. His shadows were caressing up and down your arm. ‘Don’t pretend you’ve ever cared about her like a brother.'

Rhysand inhaled sharply. This was just fear, he told himself. 'Azriel.'

'No,' he said, his finger brushing back your hair. 'You only care about her when she’s dying and all y/n does is worship you- ever since you were children.'

Cassian tried to advance, 'Azriel, you wouldn’t be saying any of this if y/n wasn’t hurt.'

He laughed, bitterly. 'No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to. I’d bite my tongue. But your sister is dying and the last time you cared was the last time she almost died- it killed her to lose her wings and you were never there! And you teach your mate to fly right in front of her!'

Rhys growled. ‘Don’t bring my mate into this!'

‘You’ve brought mine into this!' He yelled. 'Everything she does is for you. Working for you. My mate followed you down to the mountain even when you didn’t care.'

'Of course I cared.'

'Then why did she feel so alone down there!'

‘How would you know, Azriel? You weren’t there!'

'Because I know her, bond or not. And you’ve been otherwise occupied.'

Cassian moved between the two, holding them apart. 'None of this matters to y/n does it.'

Azriel blankes them all, settling next to you. He vaguely heard Cassian send Rhysand and Feyre away. He felt him longer before he felt him leave.

And then all Azriel could feel, was you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You felt pain first. The steady thumping of it through your body. It started in your leg, numbing it. Then, her back ached- a familiar pain you'd felt before. It sent panic through you before you realised they can't take your wings twice.

Then, it was in your gut, stinging. Just the thought of moving was hurting- aching.

There was a coldness around you, draped over like shadows. Shadows...

That's when you felt the tug that you'd neglected to feel for more than half a century.

The bond. There was finally something tied to the other end.

The shadows around you must've known you were awake as they grew frantic around you.

You opened your eyes, slowly, afraid to what you may see. Afraid to the eyes you'll have to meet.

Azriel was sat on a chair next to you, bare chested with only bandages around him. Immediately, you were at a disadvantage. He was looking at you, dark eyes pouring into yours as his hands curled around shadows.

'What happened?' you asked.

'You were run through,' he said, voice wavering.

'Oh.'

'You're my mate.'

Your eyes flickered away, staring at your tent. 'Oh.'

'That's it?' he whispered. There was some heart-break tainting his voice. 'You're not gonna say something?'

You pulled the blanket over you, daring to move to sit up. He shifted, but his shadows helped you. 'What do you want me to say, Az?'

'Why did you tell Cassian and not me?' he asked. 'Why didn't you tell me, for fifty years?'

'It's-it's not a big deal.'

'Not a big deal?' he all but seethed. 'I'd say finding your mate is a pretty big thing, y/n. It's the person to spend the rest of your life with.'

'Can we not, do this now?' you winced, as the words left your mouth.

'You're right, maybe we should wait another fifty years to bring it up when you're dying.' you've never heard him be so cruel, you'd never even argued with him before this.

'I wasn't dying,' you mumbled.

He scoffed. 'You had an infected wound in your leg that you didn't tell anyone about. An ash arrow was imbedded in your back. Imbedded! You didn't see anyone about it and then- you run into battle and get yourself stabbed.'

'I didn't get myself stabbed!' you argued, your temper rising above all other judgment. 'I didn't rush out in there, wanting to die!'

'I held you as you bled out!' he yelled, standing up from his seat. You were swinging your legs over the bed, ignoring every twinge in your body. 'Do you have any idea what that's like? Not even to hold you as you die in my arms the first time but the second. And to know this time, I was holding my mate?'

You bit down on your lip. He had to use the word with such care and love even when angry. You could feel it. For once, guessing his emotions wasn't needed as you felt it all. The taunt anger in him, the pull of anxiety and above all else, the weight of his love.

Azriel walked around you. 'Please, you have to tell me. Why didn't you say something to me? Why wouldn't you tell me you're my mate? Am I that repulsive to you?'

'What?'

He gulped.

You shook your head as he knelt in front of you, shadows pooled around the two of you, as if they were trying to hold the two of you together. You took his hands, holding them and let something like love flow down the bond. 'You are the most beautiful thing in this world. Something better than me. I wouldn't burden you with that.'

He rose his gaze to you. 'Burden me?'

'Do you think i've enjoyed lying to you?' you ask, finally finding your words. 'Do you think I've liked being your mate and never being with you? That I left you for fifty years and thought of you every moment of every day, all day long. That when I come back I wonder if you or Mor had grown closer? Or if Elian would finally tell you how much she loves you? It's been eating me alive. But it's a small price to pay.'

Azriel grasped at his words, chocking on them. 'Elian is nothing to me, nothing.'

You pushed yourself up, using his shoulder to steady yourself before you move around him. 'Why? Have you only just decided that because I’m your mate? That’s not how it should go, Azriel.'

He was following you around your tent as you slipped on armour and leathers over your night dress. ‘I want you, only you.'

'Because of the bond?'

'Because I’ve always only wanted you!'

You laugh. 'No, you haven’t.'

'If we’d talked about this maybe fifty years ago you’d know that!'

You shook your head. Perhaps a part of you didn't want to believe him and all those wasted years at your fault, but you didn't want to believe his words either. Because what did that mean? That he loved you and wanted you. But that seemed just as impossible to you. How could he want someone so wrecked who'd done nothing but run away from her feelings and does nothing to make anyone happy?

'I don't want you to feel like that,' said Azriel, approaching her. She thought she'd spoken aloud before she realised he could feel everything that was hers. She'd only ever had to shield her thoughts from her brother- and he rarely sort her thoughts. 'Please, please-' he took your shoulders, turning you around and gently resting his head on yours.

You could feel his warm breath over your lips. You almost lost all resolve, with him that close. You'd never been so close to him, close enough to touch. To kiss. To know finally what it mean to have that deep connection that everyone was meant for.

One person in the whole world to belong to.

And he was stuck with her.

'Azriel-'

'Whatever you're thinking about yourself, i've thought about me a thousand times. And ever since we were kids you've always stopped me from thinking that. You've always told me what I was worth,' he whispered. His hands were wondering down your arms, sending shivers down you. He could've been doing it on purpose, distracting you. 'Why won't you accept it for yourself?'

You gulped down every uneasy thought. 'Because you're good, Az and i'm-'

'You're everything.'

'I'm not,' you look up at him, his own face blurry from your tears unwilling to fall. 'I'm not a fighter, i'm afraid of pain. And I could never be a leader, because i'm scared of losing people. I'm terrified about it half the time. Why do you think I followed Rhys down to that stupid party that I knew I wouldn't come back from? Because he'd do the same for me? We both know he wouldn't. But what would losing him mean for you? or Cass, or Mor? I was a coward and I wanted to hide from all the pain his leaving would have caused.'

Azriel shook his head, words sinking in. You were comparing yourself, to warriors like him and Cass, to the high lord- your own brother. 'It was unbearable without you. Maybe if it was just Rhysand i'd have still been able to be spymaster, because that's what he needed. But when I realised you'd gone to, it ruined me,' he admitted. 'I didn't care what you would've wanted, because you weren't here to tell me.'

You rub at your forehead, the tension creating a pain in your already aching body.

'And to anyone who made you feel inferior or worthless, i'll kill them,' he said. It was a shine of the real Azriel. The one who made a promise and never broke it.

You smirk. 'Can't kill the high lord.'

'No,' huffed Azriel, like it was a mild inconvenience. 'But I sure can punch him in the face.'

You laughed at that and Azriel smiled. He'd cracked you.

But your amusement dropped quickly, he felt it like a penny dropping. He let go of you as you turned away, wiping at your eyes. He didn't want to see you cry, didn't want to be the one to make you upset. He only wanted to make you feel loved.

'This isn't how I wanted this to go.'

Azriel suddenly felt conscious of himself. Maybe this wasn't so much about what you felt, maybe it was more about what you felt toward him. 'You really hate the mating bond that much?'

You look over to him. 'Being your mate is my greatest honour. But I don't want you to love me just because you have to.'

'It's not that-'

'And I know you're gonna keep saying that.'

'Until you believe me,' he assured her. 'Even if I have to tell you every day until I die.'

'I can't ask you to do that.'

He smiled at you, a heart-breaking smile of love. 'You haven't.'

You open your mouth to say something, but you're interrupted by Cassain poking his head through the tent flaps. The rest of his whole body was hidden, only showing his bronze face and hair framing him. There was a sheepish smile on his lips.

Azriel huffed. 'Cassian.'

'What? It didn't sound like much love making going on.'

'Mother above,' you sighed.

'What?' whined Cassian. 'I'm just saying, didn't sound like I was interrupting anything.'

'Personally I didn't know he was capable of saying that many words,' said another voice, familiar and dull. Nesta.

You frown. 'I'm sorry, is the whole camp out there.' You storm out, without Azriel to stop you.

He let you get away, again, and now there was no way he'd get you to accept the bond until the battle was done.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time you and Azriel spoke, the war was over.

Elian had stabbed Hybern, Nesta had delivered the killing blow, to the head. And your brother had died.

For those few minutes of his death you wanted Feyre weep for him as you stood paralyzed, unable to move. This was the brother you worshiped, the one you’d follow to the end of the world. Did he know that when he went where you could not follow?

Feyre had done everything she could, she begged for his life back. And when her wish was granted, you were collapsing on his other side. Tears of joy in your eyes that Rhys wiped away.

Your family, safe.

Everyone seemed happy to return to Velaris. Home. Scars were left over everyone, fears and pains. Some wore them better than others.

You'd thrown yourself into life. And avoiding Azriel. Suddenly there were many friends you'd neglected that you needed to take dinner with, or so many spontaneous Rita nights with Nesta.

And none of it escaped his notice. The steady thump of the bond still thrived inside of you, his shadows followed everywhere you went, even loitering in your room.

If he was doing it in an attempt to annoy you, then you weren't gonna break first.

After a particularly harrowing Rita's night, the only thing you wanted to do was sleep in for the rest of the day, hide away from everyone and everything. Call it your coping mechanism.

Alas, there was no peace as your curtains were thrown open, light spilling in and burning through your eyelids.

'Knock it off!' the shadows had never bothered with waking you up before- it seemed they'd picked the worst time to start.

'We need to talk,' said a voice that certainly wasn't a shadow.

Rhysand.

You groan, rolling over. 'Can't you talk to me when i'm not hungover.'

'And when would that be, sister? you're getting as bad as Nesta.'

You throw your pillow off and at him, but he dodged it easily and with a smug smile. 'I hate it when you call me that.'

'What? When I compare you to Nesta? Clean up your act then.' He stood over your bed, his arms folded over his chest.

You glare at him. 'I meant sister.' You shuffled up, brushing your hair back.

Rhysand frowned and perched himself on the edge of your bed. There was something he wasn't saying, and you watched it weight heavy on his shoulders. 'You know the last time I was in your room you were throwing glasses at me and yelling at me to get out.'

'Well, don't give me ideas.'

His lips curled into a smile of amusement before he turned solemn again. 'Do you love me, y/n?'

You hadn't expected that. Your hangover could only get worse, your head swimming with possibilities as to why he was asking. And nervous, you were nervous. Maybe you'd never said you loved him out loud but surely your actions were enough of a tell. 'You're my high lord and my brother, of course.' you shrug it off, as if it was nothing.

The shadows trailed up the bed, as if sensing your anxiety.

Rhysand glanced over at you. 'Do you think I don't love you?'

You hesitate, chewing at the skin of your gum.

'Because I do. I do love you. You're my little sister, how can I not?' he muttered. 'And I didn't know you felt like that.'

'It was just sort of... obvious,' you said. 'I was never your sister, not really. I always knew that. You'd never see me like that so, I gave up thinking you would. But you're the only family I have.'

'No, I'm not,' he denied. 'Y/n, everyone in this house loves you. They're your family. And i'm sorry- i'm so sorry if my actions have ever made you think different.'

'Why now?' you ask, eyes screwed up looking at him. 'Why are you saying all this now, what's changed?'

He shook his head, strands of his hair- the same as yours- falling over his eyes. 'You almost died, died on that battlefield and I-I wasn't the first one there. Granted, it was your mate that reached you first but I, I wasn't there quick enough.'

You meet his gaze, his purple eyes sad in a way you'd only ever seen under the mountain. 'You died.'

'And as I was dying one of my deepest regrets was not calling you sister enough,' he shifted closer, taking your head in his hands as if you were a little kid. 'You are my sister. Full flesh and blood. Full love of mine. You are my family. After everything you've done for me. You were right, I needed you under there, when there was nothing good to keep me grounded, but you. My little sister.'

You were sure you were tearing up in front of him.

'You'll always be my sister.'

You laugh. 'Maybe I should get stabbed more often.'

'No,' he said seriously. 'I don't think Azriel would like that very much.'

The mention of him changed the tone in conversation, changed the very beating of your heart.

'What's going on with you two?'

'Oh, I see,' you tease, 'talk to me above sister and brotherly relations just to get in my love life. Not a good look on you high lord.'

He laughed. 'No, it's not that. I just care about the two of you, a lot. And you both deserve to be happy. And I think you'd be happiest with each other.'

You look down, twirling the rings on your fingers.

'Would it be so bad to try to love him?'

You shake your head, smiling as a tear rolls down your cheek. 'I don't even have to try. Feels like i've loved him forever.' his shadows climbed up your arm, leaving Rhysand to smile at the affection.

'You'll work it out,' said Rhys, leaning over and kissing the crown of your head.

Your door was thrown open, startling the two of you.

Azriel stood there. For his entrance, he didn't at all seem that confident when he stood in front of the two of you. His hands didn't know how to hold themselves in front of him.

Your brows rose. 'Were you listening at the door?'

'Azriel,' scolded Rhysand with a stupid grin.

'Get dressed,' he said simply to you. 'There's something you need to see.'

Without much room for argument, you kicked them both out and dressed.

You'd grudgingly let Azriel hold your hand as he led you through the woods. You'd winnowed in at an illyrian camp before he took you through it and into the woods close by.

It was the same camp you'd first met Azriel in. The oldest where you'd all become friends. You'd asked what you were doing there, but he was quiet as he led you through, helping you over roots or breaking twigs from the trees so they didn't hit you.

'Azriel, to any other girl, you leading her silently through a woods without saying anything would be a bit suspicious,' you tell him. His shadows trailed behind the two of you and his hand was secure in yours. You knew not to be scared, but you were still cautious.

'I wouldn't show any girl this,' he said.

After another half hour of walking, the two of you stumbled across a small hut. It was a tiny thing really, made out of twigs and sticks, hay and mud. It looked like something a child was capable of making.

Azriel paused in front of it. He let go of you hand and reached for the door. He was as tall as it and his wings had to tuck in tightly behind him.

Hesitantly, you followed in.

It was just as small as it looked and dirty, like it hadn't been touched in years. Cobwebs hung low (his shadows quickly tried to bat them all away for you) there was dirt and hay all over the floor. Glasses were dust filled and left around with a hundred other things. Some looked new, others old.

And yet, strangely familiar.

'I made this place,' said Azriel.

You looked back at him. He was hunched over a large box that was overflowing with things. 'You?'

'The first time my brothers picked on me, I came to these woods, working on this for days. Every time things got too much back then, i'd come here. I've been coming back for years.' he glanced at you, a sheepish look on his face. 'I've never showed anyone this before.'

You look around the place in new perspectives. The shadows settled around the place. You pictured a little Az, running here and hiding from his brothers. Did he feel alone? Did he feel un-loved? You were so enamoured by it you didn't realise he'd settled on the ground, pulling out things from his box.

'This is your glove, the one's you were wearing when we first met. You took them off to beat up some kid who was being mean to me. You didn't go back for them, you didn't even care.'

He said, pulling out a pair of red wool gloves. In spite of the hut, they were in perfect condition. Pristine. You remembered first meeting him, remembered the little soldier who'd been horrible. Those gloves wouldn't go anywhere near your hand now.

Azriel went in again. 'This is the empty glass jar of the cream you used to help my burns. Here's a book you read to me when I couldn't flip the pages myself. The notes you'd leave when you had to go back to camp. The flowers you picked for me and gave me for my birthday. Dried and stamped from every time you gave them to me.'

You stood, in shock as he kept taking things out.

'A terrible drawing I did of you when I was young. A locket of yours that broke and you never wore again. Stamps from our first theatre trip. Empty bottles from our first night together in Rita's- and Cassian's too. A letter you wrote to me when I was on a mission. A black ribbon from your hair, you used to always wear it with these things. Honestly, the amount I have in here,' and he pulled out several, of varying shades. Black, white, grey, red, dark green. All yours.

Azriel wasn't done. 'A page of annotations you did in one of Rhysand's books. A copy of your favourite poems. A coaster from the first time just you and I went to dinner. Here's some stones from when I first taught you to skim them. A quill that I used to use to write you letters. An old ring of yours is here too. Here's the first dagger you got me. It's too precious to me to be used to kill.'

Tears were falling down your cheeks as you watched him pull them all out and explain them in depth. There was more but the sight of it all was becoming blurred through your tears. The bond felt heavy and beautiful in you.

Azriel finally put the box down and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands came around the back of your thighs, holding you there as his eyes looked up into yours. 'Don't you ever think I don't love you, when I have loved you since we were eleven years old.'

You stutter on you breath. 'H-how?'

He rests his head on your stomach, looking utterly at your will and completely in love. 'How could I not?'

Slowly, as you could not move too fast, you settled down on your knees across from him. His hands moved up to your arms as yours went to his cheeks, brushing back his hair.

'It was always going to be you, wasn't it?' you mumbled. 'How could it be anyone else?'

Azriel kissed you then, finally. His lips were as soft as they'd looked, as you'd always imagined. His hands drifted to your waist, finger tips digging into to hold you close. His hands were strong, but his lips were gentle. He pulled away, only to groan in need before reaching for your lips again, harder, desperate.

His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, tongue sliding in to feel every corner of your mouth as his hands wondered around you, trying to grip onto any bit of you he could. Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. Close enough to consume, to breath in.

You pulled back enough to catch your breath, arms still around his shoulders. 'Mother above, am I gonna make you the best meal of your life.'

But that could wait. For now, you'd settle for a dusty floor in the little house in the woods.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Taglist: @tothestarsandwhateverend @darlingbravebelle @lil-lupa @haileycannotcometothephantom @fairywriter-oracle @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @unleashthelion @naturakaashi @aurora1115 @sirens-and-moonflowers @azriels-shadowsinger @willowpains @crazylokonugget @abysshaven @anuttellaa @wishfulwithwine @one-big-fangirl @harrystylesfan2686 @charlotteintumbleland @mellowarcadefun @starseedsamurai

#azriel x cassian x reader #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #rhysand #cassian #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #azriel x oc #azriel x elain #azriel x female!reader #azriel x original character #swifties

[minihotdog]

Have You Seen My Boyfriend?

Summary: You see Simon in the mask for the first time

C/W: angst (?)

A/N: I've been wanting to write this fic for a while now and I didn't really know what to do with it BUT @celestialwhoree wrote this lovely fic right here and it lit a fire under my ass. I also don't think Simon would wear his mask outside of combat-active areas sooo I threw that out the window to make this work.

Word Count: 723

He didn’t even remember that he still had that damn balaclava on when they touched down on the runway. Months had gone by and eventually, as it always did, it began to feel like a second skin.

He never let you see him with it on either. Simon made sure to keep Ghost on the field and Simon at home. He’d watched countless men throughout his career take work home with them and the damage it left on everyone they touched. He wasn’t perfect. He had his own struggles in disconnecting from the adrenaline and danger, but he’d been meticulous so far.

Since you came into his life the balaclava stayed in his ready-to-go bag that you weren’t allowed to touch.

The bulk of the unit grabs their bags and heads towards the hangar as fast as they can, happy to be freed from the C-130 they’d been cramped into like sardines for hours. Their families wait for them, cheering as they get closer.

Simon knew you didn’t like crowds and messaged you to meet him at the compound instead, he’d instructed a private to let you inside the barrack’s common area to wait for him.

You were sitting on an ugly old brown couch fidgeting with your fingers. He’d been gone for months and your excitement to have him back home was mixing with the anxiety of being in this environment that didn’t feel right for you to be in. You wondered if he’d get in trouble for letting you be there.

At some point, you get on your feet and begin pacing away from the door in case they barge in to take you away for being in a restricted area unsupervised.

Simon detours to throw his bags in his office before heading towards the common area. His weapon and clips are long gone, turned into the armory waiting for his next embarkment. His vest is still snug on his frame, his skeleton-printed gloves still donned with months of sweat and grime soaked into the fabric, and his forgotten balaclava sticking to him absentmindedly.

You jump out of your skin in fear when the door swings open and spin around on your heels to meet your awaiting demise. Your nerves don’t subside when a giant man steps into the room. All the air suddenly gets sucked out.

He’s covered head to toe and the only thing your eyes can focus on is the skull print on his face. He closes the door behind him, his eyes not leaving yours.

You swallow harshly, trying to force words out. Or do anything to save yourself.

“Have you seen my boyfriend?” You squeak out. You watch the mask move over his features and you avoid his eyes at all costs. The overcast from the eyeholes makes them look like black holes.

“Y/n,” He breathes out while taking a step closer. You swear to yourself he almost sounds like your Simon but the alarm bells continue going off at the sight of him. You take a step back and in his exhausted state, it finally clicks. His eyes close and his eyebrows furrow in disbelief. He looks over you taking in your reluctance and the fear coursing through you.

Fuckin’ Hell

He reaches up slowly to not scare you. His fingers pull at the fabric at the top of his head slowly pulling the balaclava off to reveal his all-to-familiar face, his messy blond locs sticking out in every direction.

“Jesus, Simon!” You gasp, running to him and banging on his chest. “You scared the shit out of me! What the fuck!”

He wraps his arms around you, pinning you to his chest. You writhe in his arms trying to escape.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to.”

You look up into his sad chocolate brown eyes now freed from the darkness that hid them before. “I never wanted you to see that, doll. That isn’t me, I promise.” His voice comes out soft and full of regret.

He yanks his gloves off letting them fall to the ground so he can lace his fingers in your hair. He holds you against his chest, occasionally brushing his lips against your forehead.

Cats out of the bag.

He doesn’t know what to do now. What if this is the start of something he can’t prevent?

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley drabble

[good-beanswrites]

Hello, I've been thinking about your actors au. Are you doing anything about Rei and Mikio being the only side characters with faces in the first trial? Because I do have a theory about that which I haven't posted but I always thought that was really interesting. Even Yamanaka pointed it out in the first anniversary stream.

Ah, I definitely want to!! Mikio is the man in Harrow, right? (There's also maybe-Rumerie in Bring it On who drives me crazy to this day asdfsd) I'm hoping once the project ends and we get the bigger picture, I can really highlight their relationships more. I'll touch on some of my ideas real quick, but I'd love to hear your theory if you ever end up posting it 👀

My problem is, I originally thought the faces show the prisoners' love towards them, and not necessarily mutual relationship -- which causes some hiccups with including them as characters in the au... (Including t2 faces), Haruka hungers for his mother's love, but given her abuse, they couldn't in good conscience have her on set with him. Rumerie may have been some sort of friend, but he didn't seem so close that he'd be okay seeing Fuuta again and being implicated in his crime. Muu cares very deeply for Rei, but even if the murders never occurred, I can't picture a young girl would feel safe filming her own death at the hands of her bully... I ran into a similar issue with Mahiru and Kazui's partners, but as adults I felt like it was easier and safer for them to consent to the situation.

However! The fact that Kotoko's victim has a clear face really interests me, because that's the only one that (seemingly) has no established relationship or love between them. What could Muu's realtionship with her classmate have in common with Kotoko's and the victim she hunted down from a distance? So I'd love to compare with your thoughts and reevaluate my theory as the new mvs come out...

#milgram #rei #mikio #rumerie #ah thank you for the question -- im glad youre enjoying the au :)) #(i know you didnt really ask for all my thoughts asdfdsf but ah well) #as a big fuuta fan that those arcade guys have been driving me insane and i still have nothing to show for it lmao #but yeah -- i do want to include something eventually that their connection was the most important #because even though hinako hsa a face now theres something to be said about her appearance in half #kazui really wasnt thinking as deeply about her as muu was thinking of rei and so on #itd be sweet in the au if - after everything settles down - rei can see muus videos somehow and realize she did deeply care about her #resulting in them smoothing things over and becoming good friends #i do love the reimuu theory so ill see how much room i have for interpretation when everything ends hehe... #(i dont want to promise writing years ahead of time but i want to add an epilogue chapter once we actually know who es is and get #the full story on the prisoners) #id love to hear your theory about them! #especially mikio! its shameful how little ive analyzed meme/harrow compared to some of the others -_- itd be cool to hear more about him #later ill make an official tag for this au #i think its time #ask #lights camera sing your sins

[loaksky]

I don't know if you've done this yet but can we have mean ellie is FWB with the reader but she's jealous when the reader is into someone else 👀

i have not + you know what anon i could kiss your brain rn ! i definitely view this pairing as separate from this fwb!ellie x reader, but this could also technically fit in their early timeline since nothing else has really been established about them...

content warnings: language, ellie being an asshole (very on brand for me to write ig lmao), reader actually sticks up for herself in this one, but eventually folds (i would too for ellie ngl) 18+ content that includes; brief mentions of strap-on sex, fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving).

author’s note: i’ve been so unmotivated to write, but this request awoke something in me idk...also, if you’ve sent in a tlou request (yes even from june), i’m still cooking i promise! (and not in the way that ellie keeps promises in this fic lmfaoo).

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

You didn’t want to say anything at first, couldn’t be too sure under the lowlights of the party with bass-y music that makes both the house and your chest throb with every beat, but you see it clear as day on the drive home and a passing streetpost illuminates the purpling flesh on Ellie’s carotid.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when your fingertips brush over the blooming bruise, obviously fresh and warm to the touch.

“What the fuck?” she huffs, pulling the drawstrings on her hoodie to scrunch to fabric around her neck.

“Who gave you that?” you ask softly, expression on your face enough to devastate, but Ellie’s always been different, an anomaly of sorts when it came to the matters of her stony heart.

“Why does it matter?” she scoffs.

“Ellie,” you sigh. “You know why it matters.”

She’s swinging a right at the intersection, nearing the residential you live in.

“It doesn’t,” she grunts. “Because at the end of the night, it’s you I’m fucking, isn’t it?”

And you don’t know why the way she puts it stings so much this time around when she frequently reminds you both directly and indirectly that while you may be her most recurrent hookup, you’re definitely not her only one, but it does. Does so much that you’re turning your face towards the window to hide the tears that are pooling.

Because all you wanted was Ellie. Wanted her in ways she wasn’t willing to give you. Wanted to learn and grow with her, but she wasn’t budging and lately, you’ve been feeling stupid.

When she turns into your neighborhood, you speak.

“Just drop me off, please.”

Ellie’s slowing down, palm finding purchase on your thigh.

“Babe, c’mon,” she practically whines, kneading the skin there. “Don’t be like that.”

You shift away from her, gather your purse from your feet as she continues through the different apartment buildings.

“Babe,” she calls again when you barely wait for her to stop and you’re pushing the car door open.

And maybe it’s childish, but you’re wounded and quite frankly done with the back and forth.

“She’s probably waiting for you,” you add petulantly.

“Babe, seriously. You’re being annoying,” she warns.

“And you’re being a dick,” you bite back. “First, you drag me out to a shitty party where I don’t know a single soul even though you promised we could just chill and smoke while watching that stupid fucking space exploration documentary, then when we get there, you’re leaving me with a bunch of sleazy assholes while you do god knows what with the same girl you’ve been telling me not to worry about for the last five weeks.”

And of things Ellie’s looks horrified at, it’s the fact that you’d been observant enough to recognize the girl she’d thought she whisked away before your prying eyes could catch on.

“I’m not fucking stupid, Ellie,” you say with resignation. “I tried to turn the other cheek because I really fucking like you, but you treat me like shit and I deserve better than that.”

Of course you don’t know it, but those fucking words bite. They’re an automatic trigger because unbeknownst to you, both of your friend groups think the same thing. Aren’t afraid to let her know otherwise. And she’s obviously well aware that, Christ, yes, you absolutely deserve better. Is actually really insecure on the low because she doesn’t know why you stick around with a piece of shit like her when you could have so much better.

So she does what she does best when she feels like a kicked puppy and lashes out.

“Of course Little Miss Princess deserves better,” she mocks. “What fucking ever. I don’t know why I flaked on a ten for such a stuck up bitch.”

And you see right through her, know that she’s all bark and no bite, but it hurts regardless, when you step off to the side and she’s leaning over the center console to shut the passenger side door herself.

She’s revving off without another word, and to add insult to injury, your phone’s pinging obnoxiously once you get out of your well-needed shower.

els <3 sent a video.

It’s the blonde from the party. Of course those dumb LEDs pulse red in the background, making Ellie and her flavor of the night look a thousand times more seductive. Ellie’s kissing her sloppily, whispering things against her mouth that you can’t quite pick out.

els <3 sent a video.

The next video’s grainy, but you can hear the tell-tale squelch, the girl’s shaky moans and Ellie egging her on. Your cheeks are on fire and you feel like you’re about to throw up.

els <3 sent a photo.

You wonder if the girl knows, that Ellie’s sending you the most compromising footage of her. If she knows how grimy the green-eyed girl truly is, sending someone else pictures of her stuffed hilt-deep with the same strap Ellie’d used on you.

els <3: still think u deserve better ?

You delete the thread and her phone number.

Ellie expects you to crack first, you always do. Because even if she isn’t shit, she’s your biggest weakness and she knows it. Can say so with confidence, because maybe the same can be said about her.

She hasn’t fucked you in nearly two weeks and not a single body she touches can elicit the same feeling that you do. And in the back of her brain, she knows why, but Ellie’s prideful. Won’t dare admit it out loud.

So she cracks first. Texts you between classes.

me: i have a few joints + a coupon to tino’s if you’ll let me come over… :(

my #1 girl: Who’s this?

Ellie throws her head back and groans.

me: cmon baby, dont b like that. im srry i was mean, ill make it up to u

my #1 girl: I think you have the wrong number…

me: babe stopppp

Her text bubbles turn green after that message.

You forget that Ellie has a copy of your key because she’s never used it in the five months that the two of you have been in this precarious situation, and your heart falls square to your ass when you emerge from the shower to find her setting up a box of pizza on your coffee table.

“Ellie, what in the fuck?”

She feigns nonchalance, pulls a few joints from her jacket pocket. But the aroma of weed or the grease of the pizza isn’t what makes you wrinkle your nose.

It’s the smell of flowers that waft from a pretty vase sitting on the cut away of the kitchen counter.

Your gaze fixes on the girl who settles on your couch.

“You need to leave,” you say stonily.

“But I just got here,” Ellie says. “And I brought you pizza…and flowers.”

“I’m sorry, did you think that a five dollar pizza and a bouquet of flowers from Saver’s was going to fix the fact that you’ve been so fucking awful to me for the past half year?”

Ellie shrinks.

“Well, no…but—”

“You practically sent me a homemade porno of you and some other girl you fucked to get back at me for setting a boundary, Ellie,” you say sharply. “What, did it not work out? Did you—”

“I’m trying to be the bigger person here,” Ellie sighs. “I am sorry. I just—”

“You what?”

“I don’t fucking know, okay?” Ellie snips. “God, you’re talking down to me like you’re a fucking therapist or my fucking mom and—”

You’re shaking your head, crossing the room and picking up the pizza from the coffee table to shove in her arms.

“I don’t have time for this,” you mutter. “Kenzie’s going to be here any minute now—”

“Who the fuck is Kenzie?” Ellie balks, caught like a deer in the headlights.

“Ellie, don’t,” you warn.

“Don’t what?” she practically seethes. “You think I’m just gonna be okay that you’re spending time with some other stupid bitch? Maybe you’ve forgotten, but you’re mine.”

And she shouldn’t have glanced down at your cleavage as you cross your arms over your chest, but Ellie’s weak and you look too fucking pretty for your own good.

“Yours?” you ask incredulously. “Do you hear yourself?”

“Yes, mine,” Ellie affirms. “All fucking mine and no one else’s.”

“God, you’re so full of shit, Ellie,” you scoff. “I’m supposed to be loyal to you and be okay with you having a roster, but I can’t go on a date with someone I genuinely like because it fucks with your brain to have a legitimate interest in somebody?”

“You like her?” Ellie asks in disbelief. “Like, like her, like her?”

“Yes,” you reply without hesitation.

And that makes Ellie’s jaw set, makes her narrow her eyes at you.

“You like her more than me?” she taunts.

And maybe she has you there, but you refuse to give her the upper hand.

“I could learn to,” you answer honestly. “Because Kenzie is kind to me. She doesn’t treat me like an option, doesn’t act like she’s God’s gift to the fucking world and that I should kiss her feet for giving me the time of day. And I get it, you don’t like me the way I like you—”

“You think I don’t like you?” Ellie asks like the thought is unfathomable.

“I don’t think, Ellie, I know. We went into this without any strings attached, we established that it’d just be fucking, but I was honest in telling you that I caught feelings and you used that to your advantage. You lied to me on multiple occasions, you make me look stupid, like I’m fucking crazy.”

And you wish you’d gotten through your spiel without choking up, but Ellie’s the first girl you’d liked in a while even if she was bad news. And when you thought that maybe you could shake her, she’d come barreling back.

“Baby,” she murmurs, face softening as she’s crossing the space between you two to cup your face in her hands.

“Don’t call me that,” you hiccup, trying to push her touch away.

“Babe, stop,” she says firmly. “I’m serious. You think I don’t like you?”

“Well, you don’t fucking act like it,” you mutter. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways because whatever this was is done. You’re free to do what you want, who you want, whether you like me or not.”

God, do you unwittingly light a fire under Ellie’s ass when she thinks of what this Kenzie girl could do to you if she lets you walk out the door. Absolutely loathes the thought of anyone else knowing what you look like in any state of indecency, that you fucking cry watching children’s movies, that you snore like a freight train if you’re tired enough and have a weird ass penchant for pickle chips when you’re high.

“You’re not going on that fucking date,” Ellie says with finality, palms sliding from your shoulders to skim down the length of your arms and situate over the swell of your hips.

“Who says?”

“Me,” she huffs. “Because I’m going to make it up to you and we’re going to smoke these blunts and eat this fucking pizza and I’m going to make you cum so fucking hard, you won’t even remember that you were thinking of leaving me for someone else.”

“You’re not my girlfriend, Ellie,” you reiterate. “You can’t just–”

“Maybe not then, and maybe not in this moment, but I will be,” she says, and the words catch you completely off guard.

She’s catching your bottom lip between hers to further disorient you, kissing you like this could very well be her last.

“Just give me some time,” she whispers, walking you back towards your bedroom. “I’ll get my shit together for you. Promise.”

And you know deep down that you shouldn’t believe her. She’s just feeling territorial and grasping at straws to keep you leashed, but Ellie’s always been such a good kisser and she’s devouring you like she really is sorry.

She’s tossing your against your unmade bed, caging you between lithe limbs as she leans back on her haunches to take you in. Your blouse rides up to reveal the flimsy bands of your lacy little thong and Ellie’s lacking decency as she flips your skirt up to reveal a growing patch of wetness.

“Were you planning on getting fucked or do you always go out like this?” Ellie ponders, fingers rough as she pulls the tiny scrap of fabric down your legs and nearly salivates when a string of your arousal leaves with it.

Your lips part to answer, but her thumb’s dipping between your folds, pad collecting some of your slick from your drooling slit to smear over your achey little bud.

“I asked you a question,” Ellie says gently. “You just gotta be honest with me, baby.”

“S’hot out,” you whimper, fingers closing around her wrist when your body jerks against a particularly delicious stroke of her thumb.

“Yeah?” she clarifies. “You wouldn’t let any else touch you, would you? Not when I take good care of you like this?”

Her other hand comes to toy with your entrance, doesn’t give you any warning before her middle and ring finger are sinking inside slowly.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine.

“You’re my girl, you hear me?” Ellie murmurs, leaning down to catch your clit between her lips. “You’ll be my number one, always.”

She’s teasing at first, tongue languid against your fluttering pussy, but you’re quiet, back of your wrist caught between your teeth to muffle your moans.

One of her hands reach up to yank it away.

“Say it,” she barks, pulling away from your needy heat.

“Ellie,” you whimper.

“Say it,” she repeats firmly.

“M’your girl,” you moan shakily, thighs quivering as she smoothes her palms over the underside of your thighs to push them up to your chest.

“Yeah, you are,” she whispers, spitting harshly on your heat. “My favorite fucking pussy.”

She’s eating you out like she’s missed you, like she’ll only be satisfied when you finally cum. And maybe it’s true.

Maybe not.

Especially when she draws nearly three orgasms from you and practically knocks you out.

You don’t know how long you doze off for, but when you finally wake up, the sun has almost completely set, bathing your room in a burnt orange glow that leaves your dewy skin warm and sticky. And perhaps it’s wishful thinking when you call Ellie’s name, met only with the echo of your raspy voice. After all, you’re tucked on the wrong side of bed, elusive girl nowhere to be found.

As you dress and search for your phone, you can’t even find it in yourself to be surprised.

neng ©️2023

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