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This is not a Tamlin or Dain situation. Tamlin and Dain were flawed and broken and made mistakes but were good men at heart in shitty situations who truly did love the heroine but just weren’t compatible in the long run.
Lucas though.
Lucas is actually horrible. He used a knife on Rosalina. He has used her for sex. And now he’s basically telling her she’s marrying him now. He knows she’s awkward and shy so he did a public proposal at a party she wasn’t prepared for to pressure her to say yes. He thinks he’s God’s gift to the world.
This right here is how you do an irredeemable ex. This is how you get me to hate the other guy before the love interest(s) show up. He is cruel, he is abusive, he is wrong and most of all, his excuses don’t give me pity. I am not going to feel bad for Lucas one bit.
Lucas is Gaston if Gaston wasn’t made for child audiences. The narcissism is there but the physical harm to Rosalina is now present. An actual monster.
Tamlin, Dain, my boys, you are nothing like this monster and I love you! 😭
Ezryn: You know those things will kill you, right?
Dayton, pouring another glass of whiskey: That’s the point.
Keldarion, smoking a cigarette: We’re trying to speed up the process.
Farron: Nods while eating raw cookie dough
Lucifer gave you a little scratch between the shoulders. An absentminded sign of affection. Up to that point, you almost forgot he had an arm wrapped around your shoulders.
You tried to thank him with a kiss. You leaned against his arm, turned your head, and craned your neck. Lucifer knew what this was and what he should expect. He liked when you initiated and put in effort. A small smile of expectation graced his lips as he remained still, waiting for his prize to reach him.
Then there was a loud crack. Your joints readjusted and a satisfying tingle ran down your back. That half-turned-around pose was hard to maintain. You really needed to stretch more often.
Lucifer stared at you, mouth slightly ajar as his brows sunk in concern, confusion, and frustration. His hold on you slowly lifted as you began to shake with laughter.
"I hate when you do that," he said.
That made you laugh harder. "I can't help it! My bones just do that!"
"I wish they wouldn't."
He was always compelled to check if you were okay when your bones clicked. Clearly you were, but Lucifer gave you a flick in between the shoulder blades anyway, like you were an old television in need of percussive maintenance.
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Shaking his head and dismissing you when you told him words of affection, ruining romantic moments by getting nervous and muttering something about stupid humans instead of saying how he really feels.
Spouting insults that never held any real bite, leaving gifts at your door rather than giving them to you directly and insisting that he didn’t get it for you, he just had an extra — as if he didn’t eye you down the next day to see if you were wearing the jeweled necklace that took him months to save for.
All for what? To hide his feelings? He wanted you to know he loved you, wanted to be your one and only, but he was scared. Scared you wouldn't love him back. Scared it would ruin your friendship, that he would never get to see the smile he saw when he closed his eyes ever again.
So now, sitting with you in his arms, a pool of blood around you as your breaths stopped coming, he realized it.
One thing Mallues would always look forward to during your walks would be the small, surprising moments he experienced with you.
You: *Boops Malleus's nose* Boop
Malleus: *visible confusion* Excuse me? What are you doing, child of a man? Is this some human ritual I am unaware of?
You: *Boops Malleus's nose again* Boop
Malleus: Can you at least tell me if you have any particular reason for doing this?
You: For funsies :D *smiley*
Malleus: You never cease to amaze me, child of a man. *Boops your nose* Boop. Did I do it correctly?
Malleus wouldn't have been this flustered in a long time, yet at the same time, he would appreciate the spontaneity you shared with him. Very few people would be as bold as you.
"Aw, you poor thing," a voice beside him called out only a second after you got up with a scoff and sauntered off to the bathroom, but not before you flicked your hair over your shoulder. A smug smirk appeared on his face once your hair whipped him across his face, but it immediately straightened out at the new sound.
There, in the next table over at the brunch place terrace, were was another young woman while her friends giggled with each other, eyeing her and shooting quick glances at him.
"I'm so sorry, but I overheard the whole thing," she said pouting her pink, filled lips, and pressing her arms together at her front. He was pissing you off, intentionally ragebating, so of course you mouthed off and chewed him out, even if it was in the middle of the restaurant. You kept your voice contained, but it was inevitable with the close tables that it would slip out.
He didn't even need his eye to see her desires.
"Not a girl's girl," you would say, especially in your conversations with Tara, and while he was a "stupid man who would never understand," he was inclined to agree. After all, you were decked out in clothes that matched his and wearing his ring on your little left hand.
Everything about you two screamed that you were bound together, yet the young woman only got closer to him, scooting her chair toward the man.
"You know," she continued, oblivious to how he grew still. Not from nerves or fear, but he paused in the way he did when those his people were serving him: waiting for them to move around him and do their job impeccably, then pass by as fast as possible.
"I really hate it when girls are so mean to their boyfriends like that," she said with a little pout, almost cooing at him, "I mean, if it was me, I'd never talk to my boyfie—"
"I like my woman mean." This was boring him. He needed to stop humoring her with his silence.
"I—" That seemed to short-circuit her. Blinking her large eyes, she said, "What?"
Your husband chuckled to himself and looked at her with amused, narrowed eyes, as if he made a joke she wasn't in on.
"I like my woman mean as hell."
She nearly jolted in her seat when it finally hit her, pressing her lips together in a fake smile to try and save face in front of her friends and this restaurant. From his cold, blunt tone to the look he was giving her, it was a clear rejection. Even with other men she's tried this with, they would turn her down nicely, saying "Aw, sorry, but I have a girlfriend," but give her lingering, second glances.
It seemed like the husband could just be as mean as his wife.
"As a matter of fact..." His smirk grew and his eyes darkened as he thought about you, and the things you do to him when you bare your claws. "When she gets back, I hope she's even meaner."
many people have the privilege of their partners announcing when they've arrived home for the day.
valko does not do that.
instead, nearly every weekday evening, you’re unceremoniously greeted by a body twice your size coming to crush you.
“hao—wash—worg?” you wheeze. your voice is muffled by the couch cushion you're currently being encouraged to fuse with.
“hmm?” the man sprawled on top of you lifts your neck up a little, freeing your mouth to speak clearly. he takes extra advantage of the position to nip your nose and kiss the corner of your lips.
“how was work?” you repeat. when his massive thighs foil your attempt to wriggle free, you shoot him your severe side-eye that he’s unfortunately grown immune to.
“hard. intern was supposed to test out a new piece of tech. would’ve been a real resume builder for him, you know? if he hadn’t sent it crashing off the table into a million little pieces. young people these days, i swear.” he tucks his chin into your neck and inhales deeply. “but at least it’s friday! what d’ya wanna do all weekend?”
“being able to breathe would be nice.”
“really, now?” in quick puffs of air, his chuckle warms your skin. a second later, something hot, soft, and wet tickles your ear canal.
you squirm under him as he snickers like a hyena. “valko!”
“what? made you gasp, didn’t i? that counts as breathing to me.”
you growl out his name, which he blissfully ignores. “so, what else do you wanna do? we can check ‘em all off the list right now if we try. gives us plenty of time for other things.” he drops his weight further onto you, melding your body with the sofa. with the way the barbell between his legs pokes into your lower half, it’s a miracle this conversation has stayed relatively tame.
“actually…” time to pull out the big guns. “i haven’t taken off work yet.”
“what?” his muscles tense, and you can no longer hear his tail pummeling your poor throw pillows from the force of its wagging. “i thought we were spending the whole weekend together. we were supposed to have matching days off.”
“we were supposed to,” you drawl, “but then i thought, why don't i work a few more days, then take a whole week off at the end of the month? that’s when your next business trip’s scheduled for, right? i could go with you.” your lips quirk in a coy, calculating smile—if only he could see it.
in your periphery, his ears pop up in the shadows cast by the lamplight. “wait, really? we can finally go on a trip together? i’ve been waiting for forever.”
“yup. but, those days off have to be booked in advance for them to be approved. i could go request them right now—my boss would say yes in a heartbeat—but…well, you know. i can’t move, and all. what a shame, am i right?”
he stays silent.
“i guess that’s okay, though. if you’d rather go by yourself, we can just lie here fore—”
almost immediately, your chest feels lighter. you’ve forgotten how it feels to have your lungs function at full capacity.
valko rolls off of you and topples to the floor, landing in perfect push-up form before pressing himself up to his knees. wearing a scowl that’s almost scary, he finally grumbles his concession. “fine, go. but on the plane, i want the window seat. and your pack of cookies.”
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"Go to your room," Lucifer growled. If looks could kill, you'd be dead on the spot.
"Go to your room!" you countered, boldly standing your ground in the face of severe demonic pressure.
Pacts were so great. So convenient. You didn't even really register that you were using magic, it just happened in the heat of the moment. Lucifer looked utterly gobsmacked when he was compelled to put one foot in front of the other and just walk away. He tried to fight it. He dragged his feet. He failed.
"How dare you. This is not over. Don't think for a second I'm letting this go."
You were terrified of what he would do to you later, but watching Lucifer furiously storm off under your orders felt like the biggest power move of your life. Such an adrenaline rush.
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