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#but its something that lives in my head permanently now
gay-jesus-probably · 1 year
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I really love how A Series of Unfortunate Events worked Lemony’s narration into the show by just having him show up for casual exposition, without anyone noticing or acknowledging him. It’s such an integral part of the books, and the story really wouldn’t work as well without an outside narrator wandering in to deliver random tangents about philosophy and word definitions, and repeatedly warning the audience that the story is depressing as fuck.
But probably the best use of Lemony as a narrator is in the second episode of the Austere Academy, where they have Lemony doing his usual thing of showing up in Jacques’s cab to talk about philosophy, and Jacques starts whistling halfway through the monologue. Then Lemony clarifies he’s quoting something his brother said, and he’d give anything to sit and talk with him again. And then the monologue just... stops. The entire episode stops, just to linger on this one scene of Jacques and Lemony whistling a song together. Except they aren’t whistling together, Jacques is driving an empty cab down an empty road and whistling to himself, because Lemony isn’t there. He’s telling the story from a decade in the future, Jacques is long dead, but Lemony needs to pretend otherwise for just a minute. Then the story can continue. It almost feels like he’s stalling, in a way - Lemony wants to live in this moment of Jacques being calm and safe, because in this moment, Jacques is alive, but the story is inevitably moving towards his death.
It’s a really important moment, and honestly might be my favourite scene in the whole show. Lemony’s grief and how it colours every part of the narrative is such an integral part of the story; he’s telling a story about three children he cares about going through hell, and that story begins with the death of the woman he loved, has his brother’s murder in the middle, and ends with his sister’s death. Lemony isn’t involved in the story personally, he’s just the guy telling it in the aftermath, but he’s never a detached narrator. He knows the entire story, and he spends the whole time grieving for things he hasn’t told us yet.
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onlyswan · 8 months
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summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k
content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉
> in which masterlist!
note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3
“jungkook, baby?”
your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.
“babe?”
you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.
him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.
and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.
but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.
you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.
the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.
he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?
agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.
maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.
whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.
in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.
you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.
jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.
clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.
but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.
your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.
not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.
you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.
the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.
you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.
anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.
jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.
when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.
night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.
“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.
the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.
“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.
his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.
“are you crying?!”
your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.
“baby!”
he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”
“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”
this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.
“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”
his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.
you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.
“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”
from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.
“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”
now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.
but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.
“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.
he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.
“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”
“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.
he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”
fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.
“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.
the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.
“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”
“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”
“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”
you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.
“____!”
and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.
“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”
you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.
“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”
you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”
“are you sure?”
he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.
“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”
“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”
“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”
“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.
“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.
and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.
“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”
“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”
“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”
he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.
“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.
he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.
and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.
“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”
if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.
however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.
“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”
jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.
may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.
“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”
he winces guiltily.
“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”
“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.
he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.
“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”
unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.
“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.
“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.
you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.
of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.
“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.
“rice,” he demands as he chews.
you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.
“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.
witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.
“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.
“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.
“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”
but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.
“i just told you to eat first!”
you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”
he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.
“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”
he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.
you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.
with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.
and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.
and it was cold. it was always cold.
“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”
“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”
“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”
“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”
“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”
your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.
a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.
your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.
oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.
“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.
the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.
“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.
the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.
he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.
“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”
you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.
you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.
you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.
“are you spiderman?”
he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”
you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”
he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”
“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“
“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”
your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.
“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”
you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.
“uh?! i’m serious over here!”
this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.
“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”
he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.
“i’ll go with you,”
“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”
“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.
“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”
“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”
that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.
“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”
“this is very normal,” he argues.
the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.
“some would even say romantic.”
a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.
you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.
you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.
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astraystayyh · 11 months
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In my dreams
Seungmin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. my interpretation of in my dreams by tearliner, love X stereo.
Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.
skz song series
cw: reader has anxiety and deals with lots of self-doubt and insecurities.
a.n: the end of our skz song series!! and a pretty personal final fic, this one is based on my own experience with anxiety, so it might differ for everyone :) thank you for reading as always <3
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You watch, a soft smile on your face as two little girls play with one another in the playground. It reminds you of simpler times, when you could just walk up to another human and become friends with them instantly.
But reality is much more challenging, especially for someone like you, constantly plagued by their anxious thoughts.
Anxiety didn't tiptoe into your life, one drop at a time so you'd get accustomed to its overwhelming presence. Instead, you woke up one day and it barged into you, through cracks and dents you didn't even know existed in your being, and then it made itself a permanent home within the confines of your heart.
You never truly learned how to live with this parasite feeding off your soul, draining you completely until you became a mere shell of who you once were. You never fully adjusted to the invisible hands choking you from within, to the voice nagging you in the back of your mind, telling you that something horrible was bound to happen.
Because nothing ever went wrong, day after day, nothing bad happened. And yet, the feeling of dread persisted and lingered until you started to believe that the problem was you.
And once you opened the door to self-doubt, you could never fully close it again.
You're too overwhelmed, too nervous, too much of everything bad. Your conversations are scrutinized, down to every syllable you uttered, to the way you smiled and how you laughed. The interactions might differ but the regret that haunts you after is the same.
So, you diluted your being, in an effort to be more acceptable, easier in the lives of the people around you. You believed that if you pleased everyone you ever encoutered then at the end you must satisfy yourself too.
You sigh softly, drumming your fingers along your knee. You’re starting a new year in college tomorrow. Your first one wasn't exceptional by any means. Aileen, the girl who sat beside you from time to time was nice, and you grabbed coffee sometimes as you prepared for your exams together. But she had other friends, ones she's much closer to, ones she invited to her birthday party, ones who she didn't simply fill her free time with.
You shake your head, putting a stop to the thoughts in your head before they get too much once again, pushing you over an edge you don't want to be in right now. 
You'll try harder this year. You'll be okay, for once.
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Your professor Lee is scribbling something on the large whiteboard, as he waits for the class to fill up. Someone sits next to you, and the smell of their cologne wafts to your nose- hints of vanilla and wood seemingly calming down your nerves. You quickly take a glance at them, to find a guy with long brown hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He's taking out his notepad from his bag, and you smile at the chick keychain he has on it. He catches you looking and you quickly avert your gaze, heat creeping up your cheeks. 
"Hi, I'm Felix," he greets enthusiastically, and you turn your head slowly to be met with his wide grin. It softens his features, making his eyes turn into moon crescents. You envy his ability to smile without overthinking how he looks. 
"Yn," you introduce back, and he nods, the grin still etched on his face. "You were in my Economics class last year, no?" he asks and you tilt your head to the side, as you mull over his question.
"I was but I don't remember seeing you," you admit sheepishly and he waves a hand in the air, not bothered the least by your words. 
"It's okay, I just remembered your presentation on Inflation. I finally understood why we can't just print more money," he admits with a chuckle, and you giggle against your will. 
"I don't blame you, it sounds like an easy solution," you agree, and his eyes widen. 
"Right! when I tell my friends they just stare at me in disappointment."
You laugh at his adorable pout, an unfamiliar warmth stirring within your chest. He's nice. 
"I'm glad I helped you then, I was so nervous presenting it," you clear your throat as he smiles impressively at you. "Really? I couldn’t tell at all." 
Mr. Lee calls for your attention and you both turn your heads back to the board. You couldn’t really focus, Felix’s words echoing in your head like a broken mantra- he couldn’t tell you were nervous. A sudden relief dawns on you at the possibility that, maybe, not everyone is aware of the neverending storm raging within you, threatening to drown you at any giving moment.
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"Movie night at my dorm?" Felix proposes as he packs up his bag, your two hours long class finally done.
"Will Seungmin be there?" you ask, a slight edge to your voice and Felix pauses, shaking his head at you.
"Yn, you're overreacting. I promise he doesn't hate you."
"Have you ever seen him smiling at me?" you ask, arching your eyebrow expectantly at him. He stays silent and you wiggle your finger in the air. "Exactly! Please tell me he won't be there."
"About that... He's helping me bake the cookies," Felix smiles sheepishly and you groan, falling dramatically on your seat.
"I’m not coming."
"But the cookies," Felix pouts, and the promise of the chewy baked goods is so enticing it makes you second-guess your decision.
"The cookies...," you whine, and Felix giggles grabbing your hand to pull you up.
"I’ll see you at 5?"
"Yes," you concede, a small smile on your lips. You wait until Felix bids you goodbye for it to finally slip from your face.
Seungmin has never liked you, from the moment Felix introduced you to him. You still remember it clear as day, the way his eyes slightly widened when they fell on you, before narrowing down. How he didn't utter a single word when Felix left you both alone to get your drinks. Your panic grew as an uncomfortable silence reigned on the both of you, and you racked your brain for something to say to cut through that eerie quiet.  
"Seungmin, right?" you asked, a bit too cheerfully, and you winced inwardly at your tone. He didn't reply, only humming back. It was so faint you wouldn't have caught it had you not been staring at him intently.
"What's your major?" Your voice cracked.
"Computer science." He replied curtly, and you waited patiently, expecting him to return the question. He didn't. And you shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. Maybe he just didn't do well with strangers. Maybe he wasn't a chatty person, to complement Felix's extroverted nature.
But you were wrong. You watched in complete astonishment as he teased Felix relentlessly, a wide smile on his face. It made his eyes soften, a newfound fondness itching itself on his expressions. He laughed and he joked and you felt yourself shrink more and more, this way he wouldn't notice you anymore, wouldn't glare at you as if you did something horribly wrong to him.
Felix tried to include you as best as he could in their conversation, but you tuned it out. It was hard to focus on their talk when there was a tumultuous one ongoing in your mind. Seungmin's behavior just further cemented every horrible idea you held about yourself. There is something wrong about you, and he can see it. You may have fooled Felix but you didn't fool Seungmin. If you were him you wouldn't talk to you either.
Every encounter with Seungmin since then left you feeling fifteen years old again, in a classroom full of unkind eyes zeroed on you. You tried to talk about his interests, to string along a normal conversation, one that would reassure that your first encounter was a wrongful impression.
But he did not like talking to you, only offering short replies in response. It’s as if his tongue was tied in your response, and in return it only magnified the knot in your stomach. You went through every conversation with him a million times in your head, trying to pinpoint what exactly went wrong. What warranted him to be so silent in your presence, and yours only, as if you weren’t worthy of a simple conversation. And the answer always tied back to you.
So, you’ve been avoiding him like the plague for the past month, sparing him the chore that is existing near you. It was particularly hard since Felix was his best friend and roommate, and surprisingly he actually enjoyed spending time with you. Still, you couldn’t help but think that it was only a matter of time before Felix started to hate you too.  
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"You're moving too much," Seungmin chastises and you freeze in your place at his words. You are sitting on the couch of Felix’s dorm later on that day, a horror movie playing in the small TV before you. Felix decided to lay on the floor, buried in a pool of yellow blankets, and a long pillow that weirdly had the picture of one of their friends printed on it. "It's my safety net," he explained and you didn't question him any further.
For some reason, Seungmin decided to sit next to you, instead of the opposing couch. Granted, he can see the TV more clearly from here, still this is the first time he willingly went somewhere near you, let alone talked to you.
You decide to ignore him, too focused on predicting the next jump scare, your feet tapping the floor furiously. But still, it happens so abruptly, eliciting a startled gasp from you, anf you clutch the edge of the couch even tighter.  
"Close your eyes," Seungmin speaks suddenly and you raise an eyebrow at him, confused. 
"There is a jump scare coming soon," he clears his throat, "just... close your eyes if you don't want to see it." 
You comply without much thought and soon enough, you can hear a shrill scream coming from the screen. He was right. 
"It passed," he says softly, and you tentatively open your eyes once again. There is a foreign expression on Seungmin's face, one you haven't seen before, but it passes as quickly as it came, like a dream slipping between your fingers as soon as you wake up. 
"How did you know?" you ask, hugging your knees tightly to your chest. 
"I already watched this movie."
"Really? Why are you watching it again?"
"Because. I had nothing better to do," he says, almost defensively, his hand now covering his mouth as if he had to physically stop the words from spilling out. 
You don't reply, turning back to look at the screen. Seungmin doesn't tell you when a jump scare is coming next, he simply taps your arm, and you close your eyes on cue. 
His hand brushing against your bare skin feels weird, not uncomfortable by any means, but it still is a foreign sensation. You didn't know he had such soft hands, and you always imagined them to be cold. But they are warm, and you wonder what other things about Seungmin you've been wrong about.
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"I'm so tired," Felix groans, laying his head on your shoulder and you giggle, patting his head in mock sympathy. It's been three months since the start of your year, which means that the assignments are starting to pile up on you all.
"Me too," you sigh, and Seungmin stays silent next to you. Felix dragged you both to this coffeeshop, a little outing to recharge his spirit, as he texted you. You're slowly getting used to Seungmin's brooding presence. He talks to you a little more, even cracking a few jokes here and there. But you’re still wary of him. You keep your guard up just in case he forcefully brings a mirror to your face once again, reminding you of everything you despise about yourself.
"I'll go order, it's my treat. Pick a place for us?" Felix says and you nod, walking ahead of Seungmin towards a table near the back.
You sit down first, and Seungmin follows second, sitting right across from you. You quickly bring out your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the apps to distract yourself from the man in front of you.
"You have a presentation tomorrow, right?" Seungmin speaks up, startling you, and you slowly put your phone down.
"Yes, how did you know?"
"Felix told me that it makes up 25% of your grade. Are you nervous?"
"A little," you admit, even though ‘a little’ didn't even begin to cover it.
"Don't be. You'll do well," he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You almost feel as if you've imagined it before it dissipates.
"Thank you," you nod, as Felix brings the tray down your table.
"Is this for me?" you ask tentatively, pointing to the strawberry milkshake, a sore thumb sticking out between the iced americano, and the hazelnut Frappuccino, Seungmin’s and Felix’s respective go to orders.
"They got the order wrong. I got you an iced matcha," Felix pouts, double checking his receipt.
"It's okay," you smile slightly. There was nothing you despised more than having to change up your order.
"You don't want to drink this," Seungmin says, staring at you expectantly and you wave your hand in the air dismissively. "I don't mind."
Seungmin stands up, grabbing the drink from your hand before taking the receipt from the table. He goes to the counter and you watch in astonishment as he comes back, a green drink in hand this time.
"Here," he hands you your cup, before grabbing his own and sipping from it. Your drink is cold, but the warm tingles spreading through your being at his sweet gesture outweigh any other feeling.
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Talking in front of 267 people never gets easier.
You memorized your presentation; you rehearsed it so much you could probably recite it with your eyes closed. Yet, the nerves still found a way to weave themselves inside you. Your hands were shaking, so much you couldn't even stare at the notes you prepared. Your palms were sweaty, blood rushing rapidly to your ears, tuning out your voice as you spoke.
You can’t even recall what you said exactly, it’s as if your body had a mind of its own, your mouth moving itself without you commanding it. You aren’t sure how it was, but someone smiled at you reassuringly from the first row, and the professor clapped, so you assume you did okay.
The class finally ends, your nerves slowly dissipating and leaving in their trail an excruciating exhaustion. You rub your eyes tiredly, as you slowly walk out of the door, before stopping in your tracks when you notice Seungmin leaning against the wall, hands buried in his varsity jacket.
His eyes are closed, a pair of earphones dangling across his chest. But then, as if he feels you looking at him, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze on you. You stay put in your place as he walks to you, his bag loosely hanging from his shoulder. He hooks his thumb underneath the strap, keeping it in place
"How was it?" he questions, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he was asking about. Your presentation. Was he waiting for you?
"I think I did well?" you reply, but it comes out more of a question to which he giggles softly.
"Are you asking me?" he teases and you roll your eyes playfully. "I did well," you repeat and he smiles, nodding a bit. "I’m sure you did. Here." He opens his bag, taking out your favorite chocolate bar from it- it had bits of caramelized pistachio and almonds in it. Seungmin doesn’t like it, he prefers plain milk chocolate, as Felix told you one day.
"Eat this, I ended up buying two by mistake, I still have an extra one at the dorm." You grab it from his hands, and he quickly leaves before you could properly thank him.
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You always dread the days you'd wake up with a heavy weight crushing your chest.
You try to distract yourself, try to focus in class and take notes. You try to laugh at Felix's jokes and savor the brownies he just brought you. But you can't. It feels as if you're a cup filled to the brim, each passing second bringing you closer to when that fateful drop would finally make you overflow. And you could do nothing but watch yourself unravel.
Seungmin's eyes never leave you, and it only makes your anxiety spike. It feels as if he's peering inside your soul, witnessing how a cord ties itself around your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe. You can't speak anymore, every word you say threatening to make tears spill out of your eyes. You aren't sure you can make them stop if they ever start falling.
Nothing happened, nothing's happening, you try to remind yourself. But you are scratching your hand incessantly, and you feel an overwhelming need to flee. To run away, somewhere where only you would witness the display of your broken soul. So you sputter a meek excuse, and then you stand up and head to your dorm.
It's raining outside, and you don't have an umbrella. But you are grateful for it, since the rain mingles with your salty tears, shielding them from the curious eyes of the people passing by. You need to get home, you need to hide somewhere and you need to remember how to breathe-
"Yn," a hand grabs your forearm and you startle, instinctively taking two hurried steps back. It's Seungmin. He removed his blue hoodie and he's now placing it over both of your heads.
"What are you doing? You'll get sick," he sounds mad, and you can't take his disappointed tone anymore.
"I'm having a bad day and I don't need you to make it worse," you say, startling yourself with the raw emotion in your voice.
He physically recoils from your words, his arms faltering as he gazes at you, a wounded look in his eyes. "I make your days worse?" he asks quietly and his voice sounds so small, you can't help the regret that courses through you.
"Come on, Seungmin," you chuckle warily, "don't you hate me?"
"No?"
"Hate is a strong word, okay. You dislike me."
"I don't. Why would you think that?"
"Because you never wanted to talk to me, from the moment we met. And it wouldn't matter if you were this way with everyone, but it's only me. And you make me feel so small each time I'm around you," you ramble angrily, as Seungmin's eyes widen with each passing second.
"Yn, yn, I don't- I didn't know you felt this way, but I don't hate you. I truly don't, I promise you," he's panicking, voice growing higher with each word, and you feel a sudden embarrassment flood your being for lashing out at him.
You don't know what to say and he sighs, looking up at the cloudy sky before meeting your eyes once again.
"This is embarrassing, God, um..." he places his hoodie on top of your head before running a hand through his face. "I don't talk to you because you make me nervous." 
"I do?"
"Yes. A lot," he chuckles, a pink hue tinting his cheeks. "I just... I find you very interesting, and funny, and I like watching you, not in a creepy way, my God what am I saying," he whines, hiding his face in his hands and you can't help the giggle that escapes your mouth.
"Don't laugh," he pouts and you nod, willing the smile to disappear from your face. 
"I like watching you exist. Just laugh and smile and talk. You look very pretty doing it. I just don't know how to deal with it. That's on me."
This time the smile is effectively gone from your face. The weight of his confession distracting you from the turmoil of emotions that swirled within you.
"I'm sorry, for making you feel that way. I never meant to. For what it's worth, you make me feel like a small kid again, as if I'm having a crush for the first time." 
A fresh wave of tears brims in your waterline, and Seungmin's eyes soften at the sight.
"Please don't cry," he says, gently wiping the rain droplets from your cheeks. "I don't hate you, I think I like you too much and that's the problem." 
I'm sorry I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away
"Okay," you say quietly, your mind not yet registering what he said, too busy focusing on his hands on your face. You can't believe you've ever felt invisible because of Seungmin, when he's looking at you like you're the most precious being in the world. 
"You had a bad day?" he asks, his knuckles brushing against your cheek tenderly, and you nod, silently. 
"Would you like a hug?" he asks, and you nod again. A hug sounded nice. 
He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you. His t-shirt is cold, clinging to his now wet skin. But a surprising warmth emanates from his chest, shielding you from the pouring rain- it travels from his body to yours, as if it's a familiar path, one it underwent a million times before. His hand finds your back, and he pats it gently, following a soothing rhythm, one you try to sync your breathing to. "You did well," he whispers, "you always do well," and his words feel like a patch of shade on a scorching day.
You exhale softly, tightening your arms around his waist. You think you can stay here, for a while. You could rest in Seungmin, now and tomorrow, and maybe for the following months. If he still likes you this much. 
Bonus 
"I'm ready," Seungmin says, his soft hair tickling your bare skin. He's laying on top of your stomach, black tie undone, a piece of crumpled paper in his hands. You can tell he's nervous, with the way he looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your gaze. You lean down, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. He closes his eyes, his hold on the yellowed paper slightly faltering.
"I'm all ears," you whisper, and he smiles softly at you, before looking at his written vows- the ones you decided to read to each other after your wedding ceremony, just the two of you, in your personal bubble. It feels much more intimate this way, they are words meant for you only to hear, after all.
"My love," he starts, and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay. "If I'm reading this it means I finally married you, which is probably the best thing I've ever done in my life." You giggle and he can't help but smile at the sound of your laugh.
"I am writing these vows one year into our relationship, I haven't proposed yet, but I just know you're the one I want to marry. And I suppose I don't want to forget everything I want to say to you, when that day comes." His words make your breath hitch in your throat as realization dawns on you- he wrote this three years ago, and he kept it safe, till this day.
"I still remember when I saw you for the first time. I couldn't talk because you looked so pretty, and you were smiling at Felix and I felt an overwhelming need to be the one you were smiling at. I think you cast a spell on me because I couldn't even ask you about your major back, I couldn't believe how awestruck I was. But you already know this, don't you?" He looks up at you, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach and you smile widely. You still remember when Seungmin recounted the first time you met, from his perspective. Rosy cheeks and fumbling words as he explained how much he felt for you in that instant, and how little he could express it.
"But there are still things I haven't told you," he clears his throat. "Like how Felix told me what horror movie he was planning to watch with you, and I looked it up the night before, to memorize all the jump scares just in case you were afraid. And you were, and I'm glad I did. I don't even like horror movies, but it was worth watching it three times in a row, just for you."
"Also, how I had to run out of my class to yours, so I'd catch you after the end of your presentation. I bought that chocolate only for you. I kept a stack of fifteen bars hidden in my desk, just in case you were feeling down, and you ended up needing it. I kept asking Felix about everything you liked, and disliked, and he was probably sick of me at that time," he chuckles, as memories of begging his roommate for any bit of information about you flooded his mind.
"I don't know how far into the future it'll be when I'll finally read this to you. I don't know how I'll be, or where I'll be, but as long as you're with me then I must be okay. I used to overthink everything, plan every part of my life so it'd run smoothly. That is until you came into my life, so suddenly, and you flipped it upside down. I didn't care to plan my life anymore, all that mattered is that it revolved around you," he pauses, sucking in a deep breath.
"I knew I wanted to marry you when you took me stargazing. You talked about the stars and galaxies so excitedly. And then you brought up Saturn; how it was unique among the planets, adorned with thousands of ringlets. And I remember thinking that you're my saturn, you're the dazzling planet that everyone admires and I'm the ring spinning around you, the one you're keeping afloat. And as long as you're here, I have a purpose and I'm okay. So please..." his voice wavers, as silent tears slip out of his eyes.
"Don't leave me. I know we're married now, but still, don't leave me. I love you. I feel like I've loved you in different lifetimes, in different earths and timelines. Everything can come crashing down around us, but one thing that'll forever remain the same is my love for you. I was made to love you, after all. My eyes were made to look at you, and my hands to graze your cheeks. And my heart... My heart was made to beat for you. And I love you. I feel like I don't say it enough but I truly love you. As long as I'm breathing then I'm yours."
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simonrillleyyysss · 4 months
Note
my brain is craving something insanely soft like simon taking your virginity on your wedding night
the thoughts are loud 😭
oh mymfod this is so sweet
cw; not proofread,afab
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‘easy now—i’ll go gentle , baby.’
the large man hovering above you cooed down, rough palms that once broke limbs of men, cocked guns and took lives were now gently tugging down the lace of your panties, the rough palms that held yours at the altar, the ones that patted your back when you first met, thick fingers gently wrapped around the waistband of fabric hugging your hips.
your trembling fingers were brushing over the marks tainting the man’s face, nose crooked from breaks and bashes, cheeks scarred and brows fixed into a semi-permanent furrow, cheeks freckled and glossy brown eyes staring into your own, his full lips parted in adoration.
‘simon.. you’re so pretty.
prettiest i’ve seen..’
a whisper fell from your mouth, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in to muffle your words with his lips, moving to cup your jaw with a freehand, the other continuing to tug your panties down your legs, tongue moving against his own—so tender yet so powerful, passion underlying the soft mouthed kiss.
‘best thing that’s ever happened to me.’
a soft sound of lips moving against eachother.
‘my gorgeous bloody’ wifey, lettin’ me fuck her..’
scoffing, your lips separated as he leant down to pepper kisses along your bare torso, watching your lacey panties fall to the side of the bed beneath you two, his thick fingers gently dropping to run along your slick folds, a soft gasp leaving your chest—head falling to the side.
‘gonna stretch you out first, yeah? might hurt a lil bit..’
‘mhhmm..’
easing his way into your cunt, the singular finger caused you to shut your eyes, face scrunching in slight shock and pleasure, back arching off of the velvet bedsheets, attempting to instinctively shut your thighs.
‘that’s it, you like that?’
‘s’tingly.. feels weird..’
chuckling, he ducked down between your thighs—slowly pumping his finger in and out of your cunny with calculated movements, wrist curling upwards; tongue slowly circling your clitoris, humming into your flesh.
‘oh—oh my gosh.. simon—hunmggnn..’
‘y’want more, baby?’
‘please.’
it didn’t take much persuasion for him to slide a second finger in, lips parting—only to enclose around your trembling button, lapping at the bud of nerves, tongue swirling and spit dribbling down the folds of your pussy, thick digits scissoring the walls of your pussy, letting out a soft moan and gasp.
before you knew it, your tummy was tightening, and your thighs were trembling—fingers digging into the back of his head as you slowly rode out your orgasm, withering in his grasp as you cried out in pleasure.
‘ohh—simon—holyshit!’
‘thaattsss it.. whatta’ good girl, so good for me.’
‘simon..please.’
‘what is it?’
simon crooned, lifting himself from between your thighs, growing bulge pressing against the side of your leg, leaning down to pepper kisses along your neck, gruffly laughing at your fidgety reaction, attempting to roll away from the individual towering atop you.
‘gotta speak up, baby.. m’your husband now, gotta communicate.
want my cock?’
you nodded meekly, chewing at the plush of your lip, watching the behemoth above you move to discard of his robe and boxers, cock springing free from its restraints and standing upright against his abdomen, watching your eyes widen and chest rise and fall with quick breaths.
‘simon—s’not gonna fit.. i’m scared—‘
‘it’s okay love, if you want me to stop i’ll stop; i’ll go gentle, yeah? that sound good?’
‘pinkie promise?’
holding out your pinkie, he laughed lowly before curling your pinkie around his and nodding, pressing a soft kiss to your lips— almost breaking your nose in the process from enthusiasm, crook of his large nose hitting against yours softly.
‘ow—fuck.’
‘careful!’
giggling, you nuzzled the tip of your noses together affectionately, watching him wrap his hands around your waist, rubbing the pink-tip of his leaking cock along the lips of your cunt, letting out a soft hiss; watching you inhale quickly.
‘m’gonna put it in, yeah? might hurt for a bit.’
‘slow—please, you promised me.’
‘don’t worry, yr’ my bird—wouldn’t hurt you for anything.’
it felt like you were just tore in half as he slowly sinked the first bit of his cock inside, watching you cry out in pain for a moment, back arching and arms digging into the mattress, the man stilling his hips—gently kissing your jaw and cheekbone encouragingly.
‘simon—ow, jesus..’
‘i know, be there soon..’
huffing out a heavy breath, he quickly sank the rest of himself into you— watching you cry beneath him and reach up to scratch at his arm, tears threatening to prick at your eyes, whispering.
‘simon, simon—oh, fuck..’
‘s’okay, i’ll sit for a minute.. tell me when you’re ready.’
nodding, you laid beneath him like a ragdoll, sniffling and exhaling lowly, after a few minutes—you nodded and felt him slowly pull himself out, then sink back in, feeling the man push himself to a rhythmic pace, soft hums and moans leaving your lips now.
‘colour?’
‘mhggg…green.’
with that, the man’s hips sped up—his thumb circling your clit with gentle swirls, growling into your throat as his cock pounded into your tight cunt, balls slapping against the curve of your arse, pubic hair brushing against your swollen clit— groaning matching up with your soft begs and moans.
‘oh—jesus christ, doll..squeezing ’ me like a choker.’
‘simonnn…hmmggnhh; ohmigosh..’
eventually gets you to squirt all over his tummy, wanks off on your stomach and licks his cum up after, gives you the best chocolate and cleans you in the bath :3
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see-arcane · 24 days
Text
Something I’ve been chewing on for this go-around of Dracula Season is the fact that, for all that I am absolutely 110% on board with the whole ‘Dracula wants Jonathan for himself, calls dibs, wants first taste, wants to keep him as part of the castle permanently, I too can love~ et cetera’ deal, I can admit now that I’ve been overlooking one very key part of the whole Bluebeard wifery setup.
And that’s the unavoidable fact that Dracula fully intends to leave Jonathan Harker to be drunk and collected by the Weird Sisters.
Now there’s all manner of guesswork to make about what exactly these three’s relationship to Dracula really is. A personal harem is usually the go-to, and what I usually land on as explanation, considering how things will play out in the future regarding his usual choice of vampiric victim. But others have suggested familial connections, going by Jonathan noting a couple similar traits between the two brunettes, ala facial features, hair, the same red eyes and so on, leaving Blondie as a potential wife the Count turned along with their daughters. Or hell, maybe they’re all actual sisters. We never get to know.
All we know is that they accuse Dracula of ‘Never loving,’ while Dracula stares meaningfully at Jonathan, insisting otherwise. And claims that the trio themselves know it is so from the past. Whatever past that is.
To that end, the Weird Sisters matter to Dracula. Enough to keep them fed, enough to not even put up a full villain monologue at them when they go against his orders to try and snatch Jonathan out from under him, followed by laughing in his face. Beyond his far-too-intimate interactions and abuses with Jonathan, this is the closest we get to seeing Dracula trying to be close with and/or properly*** interacting with someone. An exchange that ends not only with handing over the poor stolen baby in the sack, but outright promising Jonathan to the Sisters once Dracula is finished with him.
And that’s sticking with me this year. Because for all that I’ve joked and memed about it in the past, it never really whacked me over the head with the import and terror that comes with Jonathan’s opening line in this entry.
God preserve my sanity, for to this I am reduced.
Reduced. That’s the key word here.
Even if he doesn’t know all the rules, he knows now that he is no longer just a temporary prisoner. Not even a mere murder victim waiting out the clock. No. He has been reduced to a living decanter. A possession there to be nursed from and used and given as a gift from Dracula to his companions. Like a toy or a new pet.
At the risk of slight spoilers (avert your eyes first-time Dracula Dailiers!), two important lines are yet to come during Jonathan’s stay in Vampire Hell. One from Dracula:
But I am in hopes that I shall see more of you at Castle Dracula.
(Yes, he does think he’s very funny. Prick.)
And another from Jonathan:
At its foot a man may sleep—as a man.
Two vital beats.
The first, because it is a winking confirmation to all that Jonathan has feared. Namely, that Dracula and the Weird Sisters mean to never let him leave the castle again, alive, dead, or otherwise.
The second, because it shows that for all Jonathan is not aware of, he does rightly suspect that there is more expected of him than being a mere meal to have and discard. He knows he is not due for a fleeting pain and escape, even via death. Because Dracula wants to ‘love’ him. To keep him.
And Dracula will do so because he keeps the Weird Sisters, and they will keep him. A parting gift from their loving lord of the castle. The conqueror’s playbook in miniature.
I turned you. You turn him. I have you all.
This, buried under the veneer of:
See girls? I care! Here, a fine new plaything to keep you company. Housebroken already.
(To this I am reduced. To this I am reduced. To this I am reduced.)
There’s time right now. However much time Jonathan can win by playing a good guest. But if he doesn’t get out by the time Dracula is done with him? He lives the rest of his human life as a wine bottle and then all of eternity after that as joint undead property.
Better hope your acting skills are up to the task, Mr. Harker.
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anystalker707 · 7 months
Text
I need you with me
Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x [gender neutral] Reader Summary: After the Marineford events, all that Ace needs is some love. Tags: ace is recovering, so he needs you to be gentle / he's so sweet / lots of fluff / universe in which ace survived marineford A/n: thanks sm for the request, anon <3 sorry for taking long
Requested by anon [Hello, amazing writer! If you are doing requests, could you do Ace x female reader where Ace gets all the love and pets and praise he so deserves. I just finished Marineford and I have...feelings]
MASTERLIST
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          Everyone was shaken up after the events in Marineford, still trying to process everything that had happened, without much success. It wasn’t just a lot to process but also left everyone in a shocked state that would take time to wear out. Luffy had even spent a while with the Whitebeard Pirates to ensure his brother would be alright before he had to go back to following his path. By that time, the commotion had also died within the crew itself, it was finally time to have your boyfriend all to yourself again.
The wound that once covered the center of his chest and back was now only two violent scars decorating his skin, only adding to his charm, if anything. You wondered if anything could make Ace ugly, and it was hard to determine something that would make him permanently unattractive, so you dropped it.
Ace was lying on his side with his back to you, taking yet another nap in the dark cabin that blocked the sunlight by the thick blackout curtains. Napping was something he’d been doing rather a lot, aside from the spontaneous times he would fall asleep. The Marineford event took quite a toll on him, both physically and mentally, so it was no surprise he found comfort in sleep and quietness now that the euphoria had died down. Not surprisingly, he also grew clingy after that.
A soft sigh escaped your lips as you walked over, observing the scar on Ace’s back as you sat on the bed, careful not to wake him up. His skin rose in shivers at the slightest touch upon his scar, but he didn’t even move in his sleep, continuing to softly snore away. Your heart heaved a little, but it’d been like that for so long that it was pointless to dive into sadness for longer.
Your mind didn’t leave you alone for the few seconds you kept your eyes closed, replaying parts of the Summit War, even though you’d gone through it multiple times already. It was tiring, clinging to your skin like mud that you couldn’t clean off, dragging you down, but you could still feel the normality slowly making its way back into your lives, thankfully.
Ace smelled like a mixture of your smell along with his own, which was quite characteristic, and always left a very well-welcomed lingering scent on your bed. His smell filled your lungs as you pressed your nose to the back of his ear and inhaled deeply before finally lying down with him and hugging him from behind. Only then did he groan a little, shifting a little to make himself comfortable next to you. He was warm, back moving against your chest rhythmically. It was good to feel him like that next to you, alive and well, helping you fight the feeling he would disappear in case you looked away for too long.
“Love,” Ace murmured in a whiny tone that popped your bubble and brought you back to the real world to be embraced by the warmth he made you feel. “Mmph, babe,” he whispered with a groan that dissipated into a sigh of comfort the moment you pressed a kiss to his cheek and hugged him tighter.
“Yes, my love?” You whispered against his cheek when he started stirring awake, humming drowsily as he patted around until his hand found the side of your head and kept you there to turn his head and messily kiss your face. His eyes were still closed as his lips met the space above your upper lip, and then your cheek—that was the only response you received as he gently played with your hair a little.
“I had a dream with you,” he whispered, eyes still closed, but you could tell he was a little less than half asleep by then. “We were… Uh, I forgot.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head, while running a hand through Ace’s messy hair strands in a fruitless attempt to push them back into place. “Okay. The fact you dreamed with me is good enough.”
Ace pouted with a hum as he shifted on the bed so that he was on his back, allowing himself to take a look at you. He finally opened his eyes and blinked until the blurred form before him turned into a clear image of you, which made him smile. “Mmph, babe,” he whispered in a happy tone that made your heart flutter.
“You’re so cute like this, all sleepy, all comfy.” Your lips parted into a grin before you kissed his cheek. “I really just want to— Damn.” Instead of fighting your urges, you just cupped his cheek and kissed all over his face until he was giggling and wrapping his arms around you, swinging one of them lazily around your neck.
“Hey, what’s that for?” Ace groaned softly and kissed your cheek a couple of times, planting kisses on the way to your lips, where he lingered for a few seconds.
“I just want to pamper my pretty boy, am I not allowed to?”
Whenever you called him ‘pretty boy’, Ace’s heart fluttered, and he felt all bubbly inside, so full of himself that he believed he could face the entire world if he really wanted to. He smiled as his cheeks gained a red tone, and he melted under the new kisses over his face.
“Sometimes I wonder if I can kiss each of your freckles,” you said as your fingertips trailed along the freckles on his shoulder; they descended for all his body and imprinted constellations upon his skin.
Ace hummed, raising one of his eyebrows at you. “Well, if you want to try… I wouldn’t be opposed to it, babe.”
“Hm, right,” you muttered with a smile, kissing his forehead. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Just the idea of it seemed to get Ace a little eager, grinning as he allowed you to keep bathing him with compliments and caressing. He sighed and leaned into your touches, groaning when you started running your fingers through his hair again. Playing with his hair could easily drive Ace to sleep, but it wasn’t your intention, so you pulled your hand away as soon as he started closing his eyes, much to his displeasure.
“Have you eaten today?” It was a question that usually would be useless, really—his huge appetite dismissed any worry about his intake of food, but that was before the Summit War. After that, the pain and stress of carrying Roger’s blood in his hands took upon him again, and there he was, believing he didn’t deserve any care in the world. Sometimes, the guilt would still drag along the sad smiles he flashed you whenever you gave him affection, but it was growing considerably lower through time. You hoped that, someday, he wouldn’t feel like his life was a burden.
A soft hum came from Ace as he rubbed his eye, looking away, immediately snatching a sigh from you.
“Come on, Ace, love, you’re better than that.” You looked at the bedside table, noticing a tray of food sitting there. It’d probably been brought for lunch, a couple of hours ago. “Look, there’s even some ramen here. Why don’t you try it? Or do you want fresh food? You know everyone is doing their best for you, try to eat a little bit, pretty boy.” You kissed the tip of his nose, making him scrunch his nose with a small sound.
“Will you stay with me for the rest of the day?” Ace’s eyebrows knitted together as he looked at you with those eyes, enough to make your heart heavy. “You’ve been busy all day long, only checking on me now and then. I like having you around, even if I’m just napping. I like your presence.”
A sigh escaped your nose as you heard Ace, frowning a little at his words. You should’ve done better, really. “Okay,” you said with a nod. “I’ll go let Pops know I’m spending the rest of the day with you, okay? Don’t move a single finger while I go there! I’ll know if you do!”
When Ace chuckled, something stirred in your chest, spreading warmth all within it.
“Okay! But give me another kiss before you leave and more when you come back, okay?” Ace’s arms wrapped tighter around your neck, making you roll your eyes before pressing your lips to his gently. He didn’t seem to be a big fan of the light kiss, instead deepening the kiss with a soft hum, keeping your lips together until you were both out of air.
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.
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lovekt · 7 months
Text
⋆ 。˚ ⋆。 SLEEPY NIGHTS IN NOVEMBER ⋆ 。˚ ⋆。
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pairing; lando norris x girlfriend!fem!reader
word count; 1.5k
blurb; where practice goes on for a little longer than expected, and you’re extremely jetlagged. (based off of the las vegas gp fp2)
author’s note; this is my first completed fic ahhh! cant believe i actually finished something for once in my life this is a miracle
<< the library , ln4 masterist >>
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LAS VEGAS WAS A BRIGHT CITY. So bright, and yet you were still battling with all-consuming darkness.
You’d arrived more than twelve hours ago. Cameras flashed, questions asked, your mind had been buzzing with excitement for the ever-anticipated Grand Prix at the new track. Hundreds of people; reporters, fans, drivers, bustled about. Drones and tripods followed your every move, microphones bursting your personal bubble, screaming people begging for their caps, shirts and babies to be signed. It crossed your mind more than once that you weren’t a driver, yet the cheers of sheer joy echoed when you walked by.
It was exhilarating, truly. You’d never imagined your life would turn out this way, your face being plastered onto live television, a banner across the bottom presenting you as Lando Norris’ girlfriend.
You’d arrived just in time for Free Practice 2, not getting a chance to find the man in orange before he was off and onto the track for the second time two hours later than scheduled. However, you were soon supplied with a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and a chair to get comfortable with.
It was colder than usual. Your eyes were permanently fixated on the screen above you. No matter how many times you’d watched your boyfriend race, in person or in the comfort of your shared home, it was never any less terrifying. The noises of pure acceleration, the sparks that would occasionally burst from the back of the car, the knowledge of what could happen and what’s already happened several times before. All of it was enough to keep you on your toes, wide awake, and alert every time.
Every single time, except this one.
The low hum of the engine through your headphones did nothing to help you stay focused, time finally beginning to creep its way back up to you. Your boyfriend’s voice calmly updating his engineers, the muffled chatter of the garage, all of it caused your mind to numb and breathing to begin evening out. It was so late. So, so late, and cold.
Your head suddenly lulled to the side causing your eyes to snap open, saving yourself before you slipped off the plastic foldable chair. God, you hoped the live broadcasting cameras were not allowing thousands of eyes to see you right now.
There were some eyes, though, that had seen you. The engineers dressed in orange pottering around were chuckling, they themselves trying to stay awake by toying with tools and fidgeting with other mechanical things that you didn’t understand. Most of them you were quite friendly with by now as you were a frequent member of the McLaren garage, and they all knew you were the one to go to whenever Lando needed a break. They were grateful to have you. An angry Lando is never a fun time.
Which is exactly why they decided to make an executive decision to save you from the concrete floor below. It was only a matter of time before you ended up hurting yourself.
The screen above you began blurring once more, eyes drooping against your will when a hand placed itself onto your shoulder. One of the engineers that Lando was particularly close with was smiling down at you, softly nudging you forward and guiding you to stand up. You looked at him, eyes glossy and brows furrowed, confused.
He sighed amusedly, “I think it’s time for bed.”
Slight slurred protests began to slip out of your lips but were stopped when you wobbled and had to grip onto the top of the chair for balance. The engineer’s hold on your arm tightened and your exhaustion was too heavy to resist as he began leading you towards the driver’s rooms.
You glanced back at the screen showing your boyfriend’s perspective of the car, not wanting to leave but knowing that it’s probably for the best. There wasn’t any action going on, every driver was tired, nobody was pulling any dangerous moves. It was safe enough to walk away, just for a little bit, just this once.
The door to Lando’s driver’s room was opened and you settled onto the small sofa in the corner, wrapping yourself in a papaya-coloured blanket. Darkness enveloped the room as the engineer flipped the switch, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaving you to your thoughts for all of two seconds before a soft voice filled your ears. You’d forgotten to take the headphones off.
Lando spoke to his team, his voice calm and soothing, almost as if he knew you were falling into the depths of unconsciousness in that moment. He was safe. You felt safe.
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The second he’d hauled himself out of the car, helmet removed, and interviews finished up, he was on the search for you. Often, you would wander off as soon as the car had been parked, for a bathroom break or to have a quick snack, refusing to do it during the race.
He walked back to his room as fast as possible, weaving between hundreds of people who he didn’t bother giving the time of day. Usually, he would’ve stopped and had a little chat, but it was so, so late and his whole body felt like it was about to crumble. All he wanted was to find you, get changed and make the small trek back to your shared hotel room.
The door was unlocked when he arrived, a sure sign that you were inside and waiting. But when he opened the door ready to be greeted with a sweet kiss, all he was met with was complete darkness. Weird.
His hand reached for the switch and light flooded the room. Sure enough, there you were, cuddled up in his bright orange blanket and sound asleep. Your face was half covered and smushed into the arm rest, knees curled into yourself and a set of headphones askew on top of your mussed hair.
The smile that had etched itself onto his face grew when he noticed the headphones. You’d fallen asleep whilst listening to him talk, even when he wasn’t with you. Even when you were jetlagged, cold, and exhausted, you still made sure he was okay. His chest warmed at the thought.
Lando placed the bottle of water he was holding down onto the table beside him, trying his best to be as quiet as possible as he changed from his suit to a hoodie. You didn’t move a muscle, only light breaths filling the silent space.
You looked so peaceful, lashes fluttering every so often. The urge to try and squeeze himself onto the sofa with you was strong, but the more logical side of him told him that it was finally time to head back to the hotel, and if you stayed in that position much longer then your neck would be unbearably stiff by tomorrow morning. He loved you more than anything in the world, so he knew you well enough to know that you would be moaning to him about it once you’d woken up, and not the moaning that he enjoyed hearing.
 Carefully, he brushed the tips of his fingers across your cheek, moving a few stray strands of hair. Your cheeks were warm, a contrast to Lando’s cool touch that caused you to pull your face away and tuck it further into the safety of his blanket. His lips twitched slightly. You would hate him for this now, but thank him later, he thought, as he swiftly curled his fingers around the edge of the blanket and pulled it down.
Your skin, exposed to the night air, broke out into goosebumps as you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself. Lando slowly rubbed his palm up and down your arm, bringing his lips to your forehead and kissing you softly.
Your eyelids fluttered open, pupils narrowing to the bright light of the room as an almost silent groan escaped you.
Your eyes darted around for a moment before landing on your boyfriend, crouched down beside you with his hand stroking your hair. He was smiling at you lovingly, eyes squinted and laced with a tinge of mischief. “G’morning, baby.”
You didn’t reply, instead choosing to open your mouth in a yawn directed straight at his face. He chuckled quietly.
“I think it’s time we get you to bed, hm?”
You rested your head back against the armrest, closing your eyes once more, “I’m already in bed.”
“I’m sure you are.” He said, before rising back up to his full height and slipping one hand underneath your neck, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and the other around the back of your knees. Your hand instinctively curled around his bicep as you were lifted into the air, taking note in the back of your mind at how effortlessly he seemed to manoeuvre you.
As Lando began to carefully place you onto your feet, a wave of adoration filled you to the core. He’d just been working for hours straight, and yet here he was taking care of you. The love you had for this boy was absolutely unmatched.
And what better way to show him this than by using the little energy you had restored during your nap to rise onto your tiptoes and press a sweet kiss against his awaiting lips.
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@lovekt
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nereidprinc3ss · 5 months
Note
hii! could i request something w spence where he asks uni reader to move in with him and r is kinda nervous about it please🙏🙏 love all of ur fics, and thanksss 🫶🫶🫶
yass this is super cute!!!! thank you for the request, hope i did it justice
warnings/tags: fluff!! a teensy bit suggestive at the end if u squint... i cant help myself. i'm an animal
requests are open! sfw and nsfw welcome
(a/n: this is probably an awkward spot to put this but I didn't wanna make a whole other post: THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT!!! i have gained over 100 followers since i last posted and have over 1k notes on both of my recent works thats literally bonkers insane crazy town ACTUALLY. i love hearing your thoughts and reactions to my work even if its just a silly little comment. so yeah. thanks and so much love to u ALL)
“So basically, I’m not allowed in the dorm except to sleep because she always has her boyfriend over, and I told her that’s literally insane—I’m paying thousands of dollars to be there just like her. If she wanted privacy she should have gotten a single. She can’t just lock me out of our shared bedroom all the time! I live there!” 
You’re stabbing violently at your food by the time you finish your verbal tirade. 
“Okay, maybe put the knife down before you hurt yourself,” Spencer suggests, readying a hand to take the implement away from you if necessary. The knife clatters against your plate as you drop it. 
“She’s driving me fucking crazy,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes until you see fireworks. “And the housing department said I don’t have grounds to transfer rooms, so I’m stuck with her for the rest of the year.” 
There’s no reply from your boyfriend, and a pang of guilt in your chest makes you look up at him again. His expression, as so often is the case, is inscrutable. 
“I’m sorry for ranting. I’m really happy to see you and I don’t mean to ruin dinner, I just—” 
“You could stay with me,” he interrupts. 
You blink. 
“Like... when she locks me out?” 
Spencer laughs self-consciously. 
“No, like... permanently.” 
For a moment you just gape at him like an idiot, trying to comprehend his offer. 
He wants you to move in... with him. Permanently. He wants to live with you. 
You realize you’ve been staring at him for far too long, and you lean back, inhaling deeply as the world launches into motion again. 
“That’s... a big step, Spence,” you breathe. His eyes scan you head to toe, and you realize he’s most definitely analyzing your body language. 
“You don’t have to say yes. It was just an offer,” he shrugs, standing up and clearing the plates from the table.  
“Wait,” you call, following him to the kitchen. “Are you upset now because I leaned away from you when you asked?” 
He turns from the counter, looking at you blankly. 
“Of course not. That would be ridiculous.” 
Oh, he totally is. 
You tentatively step forward, gently lacing your fingers through his—but unable to meet his eyes.  
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you begin gingerly, “but I’m... I’m not done with school. We always said I would move in once I graduated.” 
“That’s an arbitrary limitation we set for ourselves. There are plenty of ways to get you from here to campus every day.” 
“But you’re not even here sometimes. I would just be alone.” 
“You would have the whole apartment to yourself. You would have my bed. You wouldn’t have to share a shower with an entire floor of college students anymore. And ultimately, we would get to spend a lot more time together.” 
You try to speak but find your throat is tight. Spending more time together is exactly what you’re afraid of. 
“What’s your real objection here?” he asks quietly, running his thumb back and forth over the underside of your wrist. You swallow, watching the motion of his hand.  
“I’m afraid, that if we move in together... you’ll stop liking me.” The words come out paper thin, barely audible. 
And he laughs. Your teary eyes dart up, surprised by the reaction—slightly hurt, even. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m not laughing at you,” Spencer says, sobering up when he sees your baleful expression. “I just can’t believe you think I’d stop liking you.” He wipes away the tears beading on your eyelashes delicately. “I’m in love with you. Neurologically that is pretty hard to undo.” 
You study his face, looking for any sign of hesitation or dishonesty. All you find is pure fondness in the curve of his lips; utter devotion in the soft set of his eyes. 
“You promise you won’t start hating me as soon as I move in?” 
“I promise.” 
You lean against his chest, craning your neck to look up at him. 
“I can be pretty annoying.” 
“I think I can handle it.” 
“I take really long showers.”  
He kisses you softly. “Me too. I’m sure we can figure out a way to conserve water.” 
Despite your reservations you smile against his lips. 
“Okay?” he asks. 
“Okay.” 
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astralis-ortus · 7 days
Text
thunders of rage
✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader
— even through the worst days, you're still my priority.
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w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, comfort warning → mild cussing, reader had a bad day and lashes out at chan :(, one time jump, kissies, chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as baby and babe a.n → based on this request! tysm for requesting♡ ⋆ see masterlist
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the word terrible doesn’t even cover the magnitude of bad luck you’ve been facing for the past 10 hours.
from waking up late for work, buses not operating due to a strike and causing the subway being jam-packed, getting absolutely roasted by your supervisor for someone else’s mishap, having your work ruined by a coworker, to barely surviving the somehow never-ending rush hour while running only on a single piece of toast you had in the morning—you’re absolutely in no condition to socialize, even for the slightest bit.
“hey, babe,” your boyfriend’s cheery voice was the first thing you heard as soon as you stepped inside your shared apartment. noises coming out from the speaker on your living room were the thing you noticed next—and you swear you’re so close to losing your sanity.
“how was your day? i saw you barely ate your breakfast when i got back from the gym. are you okay?” oblivious to your nonexistent reply, chris had his eyes glued to the game while he continued to talk. “i haven’t decided what to make for dinner, by the way. do you—”
“can you decide that on your own?” you finally cut your boyfriend off, tone of your voice catching chris off guard. you’re not one to speak sharply—you know it might offend the other party even when you didn’t mean to, and chris knew that about you.
so when he heard that tone being used against him, chris knew something is absolutely wrong.
“let’s get ice cream, then?” chris immediately paused his game and shifted his focus onto you. he sees it now—the seemingly permanent subtle frown on your forehead, the nonexistent glint on the reflection of your eyes, the messy bun on top of your head.
something stresses you out. bad.
“sure.”
chris watched your exhausted trudge head towards the kitchen and grab a glass of water, contemplating the best course of action to get grumpy you to cheer up even just for a little. “and some pizza? or some dimsum? while we wait i’ll run a bath—”
“goddammit, chris!” the loud sound of cup slamming on the countertop startled chris out of his sentence, eyes wide when confusion, irritation, and hurt started to mix in his chest. “i just told you to decide it on your own! stop bothering me! do i need to make every decision for you? god!”
the room fell silent as chris tried to digest the words you aimed at him—but it felt like his head was on static. it only took him a second to get up and grab a hoodie, suppressing any reaction his instinct was telling him to do before he said something he would regret.
“i’m gonna go cool off,” chris quietly said as he headed towards the door, momentarily stopping to look at your tense back. he desperately wanted to stay—but he knows you needed time to be on your own.
“you should cool off too.”
and with that, chris left.
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it’s been nearly two hours since chris left, and after a cup of warm tea and a long bath later, guilt finally caught you up in its tight grip.
you knew what you did towards chris was wrong—chris was simply trying to make sure he’s getting something you like because he knows only then your mood would seem to improve, but instead, all you did was accuse him of trying to bother you.
thoughts ran through your head while you stare at your boyfriend’s phone number, thumb hovering over the green button as you try to piece an apology in your head. you’re genuinely worried—it’s getting later in the night, and you still haven’t heard even a single peep from chris. you can’t help but feel worried.
but just as you were about to press the call button, your ears finally picked up the sound of your front door cracking open—chris is home.
“baby, i’m ho—”
chris stopped in his tracks as he felt warmth suddenly enveloping him—you’re hugging him tight, face buried on the span of his chest.
“i’m sorry,” you quickly whispered, barely allowing him time to process what happened within the span of 5 seconds. “i was wrong. i shouldn’t have acted like that. i just really had a terrible day, and—”
“hey, hey, hey,” chris couldn’t help but chuckle, finally wrapping his arm around you after he finally set down the plastic bags on the countertop nearby. “breathe, baby. slow down. you’re okay.”
peering up at chris, your guilt only seemed to dig its claws deeper when you saw his dimpled smile, beautiful eyes gazing right at you even after the sharp words you threw at him.
you felt like crap.
“i’m really sorry,” you croaked another apology, now near tears with the tip of your lips turned down. “i really acted like an ass back there but you still became the bigger person between us. i would’ve understood if you shouted at me, but—”
“baby,” chris shook his head as he gently cradled your face, pads of his thumbs running softly against your cheeks, “i would never forgive myself if i ever raised my voice at you, even during a fight. you’re my girlfriend—you’re someone i need to protect, and that’s what i’ll always try to do.”
the way chris loves you never fails to render you speechless.
some might say you’re the bigger romantic between the two of you—date plans, endless whispers of ‘i love you’s, constantly wrapping yourself around his arm. it’s all what people would see; but you know the nights chris would pull you closer when he notices your tossing and turning, allowing you to settle to the rhythm of his heartbeat. you know the days when he would buy you a single stem of the prettiest sunflower or the loveliest bloom of rose, all because you said you’ve always liked flowers but never the huge bouquet. you know how he would always walk on the side nearest to the road, and the way his arm never left the curve of your waist.
you know the subtle ways he remembers—his ways of saying i love you, and you would never change that for anything in the world.
“kiss me.”
a chuckle rumbles in chris’ chest to your request, beautiful twinkle in his eyes turning you warm and fuzzy. he then gently tipped your chin, whispering a soft ‘i love you’ as he brought his lips onto yours, relishing in the way swarms of butterflies burst under your feverish skin.
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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dewdropdinosaur · 3 months
Text
Flush Little Baby, Don't You Cry
ALASTOR x READER
Summary: Alastor thinks your permanent blush is cute, similar to Charlie's even. But what if you aren't actually blushing at all his advances?
Warnings: Small mention of scars, allusions to death. Rating: PG
For the always lovely @anon-of-the-void Ask and you shall receive my dear!! Requests are still open - see pinned post for details!
In the chaotic space of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the swirling chaos of Hell, an unexpected connection began to blossom between Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, and you, a newcomer to the hotel's staff as a receptionist.(To which Husk was greatly pleased that now he could just focus on bartending and not deal with as many ‘idiots’)
Alastor, with his charismatic demeanor and macabre sense of humor, found himself strangely drawn to your presence. You were different from the other inhabitants of the hotel, having a quiet demeanor and gentle nature standing out amidst the cacophony of voices and chaos. However, neither of you had dared to voice romantic interest, both of you unsure of the other's feelings and your own.
It was during one of your chance encounters early on in the hotel's grand foyer that Alastor noticed something peculiar about you. Little red circles adorned your cheeks, slightly tinted whenever you smiled or laughed. Even when, and especially when, frightened - they glowed slightly. Alastor found himself captivated by this. At first, he dismissed those little circles as mere blush or simple state of your demon form similar to Charlie or Nifty, finding them endearing in their resemblance to the delicate flush that adorned his mother's face in his long-forgotten memories of his mortal life.To him, it was endearing, a subtle charm that only added to your allure and reminded him of a simpler time in his life that brought him a sense of peace and familiarity. 
Because of this assumption, Alastor's fondness for you only grew, his interest piqued by the circle's presence. He found himself seeking out your company more often, engaging in lively conversations and sharing moments of laughter amidst the chaos of the hotel, just to see the cute flush of your rosy cheeks every time. The revelation ignited a fierce protectiveness within Alastor, a primal instinct to shield you from any harm that might befall you. He watched over you like a silent guardian, his presence a comforting shadow in the tumultuous world of the hotel.
However, his actions did not go unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the hotel, who watched with a mixture of amusement and bemusement as the usually aloof Radio Demon became fiercely protective of their new receptionist. Some whispered behind closed doors, speculating on the nature of your relationship, while others simply shook their heads in amusement at Alastor's unexpected display of strange affection.
As the days passed, you too began to notice Alastor's increased vigilance and protective nature. Sensing his concern, you decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. One evening, as the chaos of the hotel ebbed into a rare moment of tranquility, you found yourself alone with Alastor in his radio room, a perk that only you and Nifty enjoyed. It was a cozy tower despite its menacing metal exterior, with cozy chairs and vintage curtains. A lot like Alastor in a way, scary on the outside and maybe even the inside but something sweet and old was there too. 
Taking a deep breath and mustering the courage to broach the subject that had been weighing on your mind, you spoke. 
"Alastor," You began softly, voice barely above a whisper, "I noticed you've been... different around me lately. And I think it's because of these." With a hesitant hand, you gestured to the crimson circles on your cheeks that had remained beneath layers of uncertainty and shame.  In your time in Hell, many had found out about the circles on your cheeks. And had left you for them. So you were worried about approaching Alastor on this subject to say the least. 
Alastor turned his attention towards you, his crimson eyes softening with concern. "I assure you, my dear, it's merely a demon's instinct to protect those they care about."
You nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips at his veiled confession. You would note that for later. "I appreciate it, truly. But there's something I need to tell you."
With a gentle touch, you traced your fingertips along the scared cheeks, gaze meeting Alastor's unwavering stare. "These marks... they're not from blushing or simply a part of my demon state…. They're scars – reminders of a past I'd rather forget."
Alastor's expression shifted from curiosity to empathy as he listened to this confession. Suddenly it all clicked in his head. The way you would flinch when anyone would get too close too quickly, loud noises sparked the tint of the scars to glow, and how the scars moved with each expression you made. They stayed on your face 24/7 but didn’t shrink or expand like Charlie’s with each new expression. Instead they stayed stagnant and were less of circles and more oval shaped. Definitely not a blush or demon feature now that he had a closer look. 
In fact, that cute little blush that he adored so much didn't happen within the circular scars on your face but around them. How had he been so blind? His shadows would mock him later for this.
"I see," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mhmm, yet they do nothing but add to your fierce beauty my dear."
You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you met Alastor's understanding gaze. In that moment, both of you realized that despite the literal and metaphorical scars that haunted their pasts, they had found solace and understanding in each other's presence.  
He reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite his fearsome reputation. And this time, you didn’t flinch away but instead leaned into his embrace. It felt warm and comforting and he smelled like holiday cinnamon whiskey and pine. (Which my dear, as your sassy narrator I think sounds/smells like an Old Spice commercial but this is Hell and Alastor has no idea what that brand is)  
And as you both sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Alastor's radio room, surrounded by the faint crackle of static and the soft hum of his radio, you knew that you had found a confidant in the enigmatic Radio Demon – someone who accepted your scars, both seen and unseen, and vowed to stand side to side with you no matter what trials lay ahead.
Maybe that half hearted confession Alastor made had some truth to it and maybe your confession was right around the corner too. 
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To hunt or be hunted #4
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: Truth unveiled, Alastor being unusually touchy, Lucifer being himself. Warnings: Mentions of child death.
Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink
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One year and seven months left. You reminded yourself while watching the black snake tattoo that slowly made its way up your arm, soon it would reach your heart and all would be over.
“Ten years, you work for me at my Hotel, and if I can’t manage to convince you to find something good to do with yourself, I’ll set you free” Charlie’s voice resonated in your head, it made no sense, but the true meaning of the deal was that if she could manage to help you find a reason to continue living, you would have a permanent home at the hotel.
If she couldn’t, you would have your soul back, and then the snake takes care of ending your suffering.
A swarming of feelings and thoughts came from thinking about the countdown, “It’s probably the best” who was going to miss you anyways? No one did back at the living world, your daughter died post-partum, your husband had died because of his sins, most of your friends at the time flew overseas looking for a better life, and there was no family left to mourn you.
Still isn’t.
Your father and your husband were most likely around in hell somewhere, in a hundred years you haven’t bothered to check, probably ended up repeating the same pattern: Gambling, debts, death.
May was a dreadful month, Mother’s day, your daughter’s birth and death anniversary, and just by the end of it, your birthday. Turning 40 is bad, but imagine turning 140 years old, that is worse.
You died at 35 years old in the 1920’s, since that to now it’s been 104 years, plus your age at the time 139, now turning 140. “It’s a blessing that I stayed looking the age I died in, otherwise I would be looking worse” you outlined your hips with your hands while straightening the leather straps around your waist.
‘Y/n, can you come to the parlor please?’ you heard Charlie speak through. You immediately knew what was going to happen, giving that it was nine Am sharp, and you weren’t summoned to make breakfast.
She either told them, or Angel was going to be fried alive.
Just as you guessed, there was Charlie in front of the fireplace, as the rest, except Alastor, looked rather hurt and shocked, specially Lucifer and Vaggie.
“You called?” the smoke cleared, making yourself appear sitting on the couch next to Charlie. A gasp found its way out of Vaggie’s throat before anyone could say anything. The angel collected her thoughts and then she was able to speak.
“Charlie, what the fuck is the AXE-MAN DOING IN THE HOTEL!” Vaggie didn’t doubted a second to stand before her with the spear pointing at you, “She’s the chef of the Hotel” Charlie smiled weakly, trying her best to stay collected. “Since when?” the feline bartender asked, not minding your presence very much.
“Before it started actually, eight years now?” she turned to you for confirmation, which you nodded affirmatively. “And you hid this, because…?” Angel’s turn to ask. Charlie was in shambles trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t raise more questions, but failed, so you interceded.
“We made a deal; we don’t need to disclose the details, but it made her feel guilty” she shot you an unamused look before turning to her partner, her hand softly tracing the outline of her cheek.
“How come you got angry at me for lying to you, but you keep this kind of secret, honey?” ‘Oh hell no’ master or not, you weren’t going to allow that girl to talk to her (or anyone) like that.
“Hey now, whether she wanted to tell you or not it’s my and her business, but you hid the fact that you are an angel, worse than that a murderer, and no better than us sinners, so don’t act all hurt because now you two are even” your eyes lit up as the staring began to feel more lie a threat towards the fallen angel.
“You knew?” she diminished the distance between her spear and your neck, not earning a single flinch on your part, “One piece of advice, your golden blood leaves a trail, and the stench is very… specific, those like me that are used to blood can tell the difference” Alastor nodded in agreement.
“Why didn’t you tell me” Charlie sounded suspicions not hurt, to no one’s surprise really, “Last thing I knew I was a chef, not the gossip press” you took a look back to Vaggie, using a finger to lower the spear with zero effort, “Besides, wasn’t my secret to disclose” you winked an eye.
“Wait hold on, what makes the Axe-man want to work in a place for redemption?” Lucifer questioned, now more relaxed, he was all and hellfire before thinking you had taken her daughter’s soul. “She’s…kind of…forced to be here” another gasp.
Everyone turned to you, “I’m not ashamed of it, I got my ass kicked by miss sunshine here, lost my soul in the process and now I’m the chef” all except you and Charlie laughed, tearing up a little too.
“Charlie doesn’t own a soul, don’t be stupid, she’s lying right, Charlie?” Lucifer, watched his darling, perfect daughter image crumbled when all she could respond to that was a quiet shameful nod.
“YOU OWN A SOUL?” the shock was understandable.
It was too much for Lucifer so he sat beside you, holding his head on his hand, “Before you all judge her, I was stupid enough to challenge her when Lilith had just left, she was in a very dark place, my timing was terrible”
“How dark?” the king whispered your way, “I was her punching bag” he muttered a ‘oh shit’ both impressed and somewhat feeling guilty. They both had similar eyes when it came to pain.
“The infamous Axe-Man of New Orleans, I must say I am a big admirer of your work” Alastor came forward, grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. “Oh, how unfortunate” he knew your name from above, so he lived around or in New Orleans.
“Why would you say that? You made an entire state fear your axe, for years there was nothing but jazz playing in the streets at night, and what’s best you were never identified nor caught” he pulled you from your seat, hitting his chest, his cane disappeared, leaving his free hand to sneak behind to hold your back in place.
“Well, I’m not that person anymore” Alastor drank in your scent, the sweetness burning its way down his lungs.
Every fiber, every hair on his body, told Alastor to run. Animal instinct, a deer in the jaws of a lion, a prey in front of a carnivore. Maybe because of the post-battle adrenaline he didn't feel the same instinct when you helped him. What will you feel with him so close? hunger? anger? lust? Curiosity ate him alive, he wanted to know what was telling you your instinct, how would it feel to be eaten by you.
“What made you bury the hatchet?” Angel’s pun made you smile, “Alastor” still in his arm, you felt him shift. “When you made yourself…present in hell, young, power hungry and all that, something inside me just told me that it was time to stop” ‘or else it was going to end with blood’ you thought. 
“Also before all this, I had heard about the cannibalistic murderer” you were aware of his aberration to touch, but given his closeness, you had no choice. Both of your hands settled on his hips, mostly for leverage, but to see how he would react to you.
“What an honor, I must say your performance inspired mine” his smile twitched, specially after feeling your warmth though his coat.
“You’re insulting me, Mr. Heartfelt” his chest tightened, a growl emanated from your throat, subtle but it made Alastor’s mind cloud a little. Focusing on your dilated pupils at all times to read any sign of warning, he saw nothing, no emotion whatsoever.  
“Your act was sloppy, careless. The bullied that became executioner of his bullies, tell me, do you feel better?” He didn’t understood what you were implying, once he tasted human meat he just couldn’t stop. He never asked himself if he was content, or if the blood made him feel better.
“You only targeted Italian mobsters; I’d say that’s rather sloppy” that’s all he could think, “And yet I didn’t allowed myself to be shot in the head” there was a weird aura surrounding you and him.
The situation was charming, two assassins of excellence, powerful Overlords with influence and stigma. Despite their sins, they were beautiful beings full of life and grace. Lucifer couldn't help but feel a tingle on his back watching such a scene. It seemed like they were going to devour each other, and relish in it.
“Disappointed?” your fangs shined with the firelight. “A little” he answered, expecting you to be more sanguinary, just as you used to be. “I’ll make Jambalaya today if that makes you feel better” but no matter what he did, while froze in place, like a deer in headlights, you couldn’t make him feel less excited, so alive.
“Thank you chérie, what about my work as of late?” reluctantly he let go of you, taking both of your hands in his.
“Very entertaining” he has a very slim waist, and yet it felt strong under your fingertips, warm. He has his hands and forearm blackened, just as his legs must be. The rest of his skin must be of that beautiful cream color. Of course, his chest wasn’t bald, like you he has a thin layer of short and soft fur.
“Get a room” Lucifer broke the moment, making Alastor’s eyes turn into the demonic radio stare you knew so well, “Funny I didn’t think such a tiny person could have a massive mouth” he then stepped away. Was it normal to be cold? Your body missed his closeness.
“Here he goes again, how about you help me with breakfast munch-king?” Lucifer felt his jacket being pulled off the couch, dragged by it towards the door that lead to the hallway to the kitchen, “Did you seriously called me that?” he allowed that, with a smirk he gave Alastor the finger.
“Want me to sing the song too?” you warned with a smile, “You wouldn’t dare-” your arm hugged his small frame into your side as you started to mock him, “Ding Dong the witch is dead!” you started, dragging the king down the hallway, “STOOP!” that was the last thing the crew heard before the door closed behind you.
🍎📻
“So, you challenged my daughter?” you hummed a yes, “She took the split a bit bad, huh?” on the corner of your eye you could see him sit on the kitchen island, just a few inches from where his daughter had hurt her hand.  
“I’ll send you my medical bill” your sarcasm made him laugh a little, “You don’t look like you belong in the sin of pride, yours must be wrath, isn’t it?” do demons look accordingly to their sins? You didn’t knew, “You tell me, I have yet to allow myself to ponder over what I have done”.
“I think I didn’t introduced myself, please forgive me” you left the kettle under the fire and walked over him, “My name is Y/n” you extended your hand to him, he took it with a smile. “Lucifer Morningstar, you may call me however it pleases you” his touch was gentle, but firm, you could feel his pulse though his gloves.
A thought tickled your brain, “In that case, would you like sugar or honey in your tea, Samael?” his eyes shifted, his horns grew. Like wood, like wood, his gaze was the same as his daughter's, and yet they harbored both hatred and sadness, both as deep as an abyss.
It shot an intense wave of electricity up your spine. You stood in front of the biggest predator in all of hell.
“Sorry, sorry, I just wanted to get a reaction out of you” he hadn’t let go of your hand, nor squeezed it, “I apologize, my king” your free hand caressed over the fabric.
He pouted, still not letting go of your hand. “If you let me touch your ears, I may forgive you” he turned back, you caught the sight of his tail slithering inside his pants.
“Sure, but please don’t get too close to the inside, my instincts are very strong and unforgiving, I would hate to have your blood on my uniform” You couldn't even finish speaking when he pulled your hand, immediately starting to touch the fur surrounding your ears. His knees settled on either side of your hips, taking advantage of the extra height the furniture provided.
“So soft, it’s so weird, a lion sinner, usually it’s a loyal, brave and true creature, heaven material” the sensation made your heart flutter. You felt like a dog, which made your ego bruise up a little, but at the same time his hands were warm and gentle, he took your advice and avoided the areas that you mentioned.
“Anyways, you’re forgiven, again, you’re very soft” Another cold feeling due to loss of touch, how annoying. You swallowed a lump of saliva before you could speak again, “Thank you, I take care of myself”.
“Oh and the note, thanks, it hasn’t been easy” he didn’t eased the pression on your hips,  “Marriage ain’t easy, and being apart after thousands of years must be rough” it’s not like the closeness bothered you, but it grant him a cocky smile and a sense of power over you, that feeling brought back the feeling of looking like a dog.
“I just…I wish I could make it up to Charlie” his hands grabbed one of yours, fidgeting with your fingers and the palm. “If it makes you feel more at ease, the sole fact that you’re here partially does more than enough” the light in his eyes lasted a few seconds, it was a lovely sight.
“Partially?” worried? Understatement. “If I say it you can’t hit me or anything” he made an X over his heart, then his hand went back to yours.
“She lied to you and you just went along with it? Parenting 101, mutual respect: she doesn’t lie and you don’t either” he applied a light pressure to your hand pads, making your claws come out and retract, that seemed to amuse him.
“So I have to…ground her?” his golden gaze went up to your eyes, but you were far too concentrated in his movements. “Well not now, but maybe speaking with her about it might be the right course of action”.
Melancholy, he had a feeling so he went for it.
“You were a parent?” he was right, your pained expression lasted a second but it was enough for him to feel a pang on his side. “For a day and a few hours” your eyes darkened, as it they were lost in a thought. The warmth of his hand on your cheek and a soft ‘My condolences’ brought you back.  
“I just know appropriate parenting by taking my parent’s example and do the opposite” you masked your pain with a smile and a smart remark, just like him, “Yeah, me too” his response made you scoff, “Where would you’ve sent you daughter for this kind of idea, Heaven?”.
Laughter filled the room. He wouldn’t do such a thing, nothing Charlie did would make Lucifer banish her anywhere, much less punish her like that for trying to help others.
“I had a different perspective of you” your tail stiffened around your leg, “What, a soulless maniac killer and nothing more?” you used to be like that. He laughed, “I mean, soulless indeed” you ruffled the hair that fell on his forehead, “But I’m glad I was wrong, thank you for taking care of my daughter, I see she trusts you a lot” you wouldn’t call it trust, nor she relied on you much.
Now that you think about it, taking care of her was instinctive, “I just grew used to her this past eight years” he smiled, “Thank you” he sensed the shift in you, the situation tensed up very quickly.
“Don’t, and just to be fully open about it, you were my objective” you would never show your fangs to anyone, looking like an animal doesn’t give you the right to act like one.
“Wait really?” his lips twitched, almost smiling. “I thought if I bruised up your daughter you would appear, but you saw how that ended” he hummed, rather amused. Your intimidation did nothing to him.
“Are you strong enough?” his question, he was insulting you? “Are you offering to fight?” you looked  at him up and down, not a trace of malice. “I mean if that’s what you wanted?” he was willing to fight with you? “I…I knew I wasn’t strong enough, nor I am now. To be honest, I wanted to pass to history as a crazy bitch who died at the hands of the devil”.
‘I’m oversharing, shut up’ you took a deep breath, adjusting yourself in between his legs, “I see” his breath hit your skin, “Now I just do this, and I’m fine with it”.
“I’d say, you’re terrific in the kitchen, no matter if it’s a served cold or hot type of dish, you always make it taste like home” your ears flattened against your head. “Thank you” he then looked up from your hand once again, a tender pink hue adorned your cheeks.
“Anyways” you got rid of his touch, as well as separated his knees just enough to walk a few steps backwards, “I have to make breakfast, and I just pulled you away because your constants fights with Alastor has gotten old very quick” you walked away, taking your white apron off the hanger, then tied a lovely bow on your back with the laces.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, see you later then” was that disappointment? You didn’t knew, and couldn’t care as long as your body remained trying to shake off the excessive heat, and the phantom of his touch still lingering. “Fuck” thinking about it made you cut your finger with a knife.
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Stay tuned :3 Part 5
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sister-lucifer · 5 months
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Spring & a Storm
Tim Wright/Masky x Gender Neutral Reader 
READ PART TWO HERE
Genre: Fluff, not explicitly romantic
Summary: It’s been raining all day, and you and Tim are stuck inside the cabin together. You can’t sleep because of the thunder, and decide to see if Tim can help you out. 
Content/Warnings: None really. Brief mentions of alcohol, uh…if you can think of anything else let me know! This is pretty damn soft, but actually not explicitly romantic.
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
You don’t really notice the sound of the rain against the windows anymore. It’s been raining nonstop since, what, 7 AM this morning? Its not quite storming, at least not yet, but everything is soaked, and you can hardly even walk out onto the patio without your shoes filling with water. It’s dreary, sure, but not exactly unpleasant. It’s a good day to stay in, that’s all. 
You shift your sitting position a bit, wrapping one of the woven blankets from the back of the couch around your shoulders as you gaze out the window. You’re not really expecting to see anything, it’s just trees and trees for miles around, but you always seem to find yourself gazing out into the endless pines. You only turn away when you hear Tim sit down in the recliner, sighing lazily as he puts his feet up. This is a sight you’ve seen many times: A few strands of hair falling between his eyes, an old flannel half unbuttoned over a stained white tank, a beer can in one hand and a nearly finished cigarette in the other. It’s practically Tim’s natural state.
He takes one last drag from his cigarette before snuffing it out in the ash tray he keeps on the end table, chasing the smoke with a sip of his beer before that, too, is set aside. He glances out the window, whistling softly. 
“Ain’t nobody goin’ out in that weather,” He drawls, “Nobody with half a mind, anyhow.”
You nod in agreement, taking a little sip of your hot cocoa. It’s a wonderful way to keep warm in this homely old cabin.
You glance over at Tim, who is now absentmindedly flipping through TV channels. He’s probably looking for sports or Storage Wars or something, you think. Some old man show you’ll never find interest in.
As you look at him a bit longer, just spacing out a bit with your eyes on his face, your mind meanders back to before you two were this comfortable with each other. It feels weird to think about that now, though. You couldn’t imagine being in that place again.
Tim’s told you before that you reminded him of himself when he was a younger, when he was ‘new and green’ as he’d say. You were a wide eyed, scared kid, just like he was. You deserved to be living in a dorm somewhere, getting shitfaced at college parties and making choices you’ll regret the next morning but laugh at for years, not to be forced to cope with this reality. No one deserves it, really, to wake up in an unfamiliar place surrounded only by endless woods, no one and nothing around to help you and your body aching all over with injuries you don’t recall getting. 
He knows that feeling. 
He’s never felt worse. Neither have you. It’s hard to get worse than that, really. 
You were still a bit dazed when he first helped you back to his cabin, but something about the worn walls and cozy, lived-in feeling of the old rugs and antique furniture told you you were safe, at least for now. You were out the second your head hit the pillow. You slept for nearly two days straight. You really needed it. 
Since then you’ve been a permanent fixture in Tim’s life. You don’t really leave the cabin, and you’ve never left alone. Tim says it’s just until you can find a job and a place of your own, but he doesn’t seem to be in any rush to kick you out. You’re thankful for that, of course, but you can’t help but smile every time he insists that this is only a temporary situation, that if you don’t get off your ass he’ll quite literally throw you to the wolves, but he always smiles too. You’re definitely on the same page, and the headline says you’re not going anywhere.
The rainy day melts into a rainy afternoon, then an evening, then a quiet night. The rain has slowed down a bit, but now the thunder has rolled in, and every ten or fifteen seconds or so you can hear it clapping loudly overhead. The sound is a bit more…penetrating than usual, a bit more raucous, and far more bothersome. You’re not sure why. The only thing you are sure of is that your once comforting outdoor ambience is really ticking you off. 
You sit up with a yawn, glancing at the clock and groaning with annoyance when you see it’s already passed 2:00 AM. Damn, you’ve been lying here a while, and still no luck getting to sleep. 
The thunder crashes outside once more, making you roll your eyes. It’s mocking you, you think, poking and prodding in an attempt to get a reaction. You simply sit there for a few moments, debating turning your TV on or reading a book to tire yourself a bit more, but neither of those are particularly attractive options at the moment. You bring your knees up and rest your head on them, half lidded eyes lazily wandering around your dark room. It looks the same as usual, no surprise there, but when you look down the hallway you notice that Tim’s door is cracked open. 
Hm. Odd. He never leaves it open. Must’ve stumbled off to bed and failed to realize he didn’t close it all the way. 
It’s not a big deal at all, really, but the light of his TV leaking out through the cracked door paired with the noise of the thunder gives you an idea. 
You slowly slip out of bed, cringing a bit when your feet hit the cold wood. You’re as quiet as you can be, avoiding all the floorboards you know will squeak. There’s really no point, Tim sleeps like a rock most nights, especially if he’s been drinking, but you figure you’re better off safe than sorry.
You make your way to his door, pushing it open just a bit to peek inside. You wince when the door creaks unbearably loudly, but Tim doesn’t move a muscle. He’s sprawled out like a starfish on his bed, limbs in all directions and his single blanket only half covering his body. He looks foolish, but in a charming sort of way. He’s even snoring a bit.
You cautiously make your way to his bedside, watching him for any sign of consciousness. You don’t want to startle him. Even if he didn’t mean to, he could really hurt you if he thought you were a threat, though at the moment he’s not very intimidating. His sweatpants are ratty, there’s no hiding his dad bod in that old sports tee, and his face is illuminated by the cheesy sitcom he left on; not exactly the pinnacle of danger. 
You step up to his bed, debating what to do. You should wake him gently, it reduces the risk of injury, but how do you gently wake someone who could sleep through an aerial assault?
“…Pssst, Tim?” You whisper, but get no response. You repeat yourself, a bit louder this time.
“Tim, wake up.” 
He stirs a bit, but all you get is a groan and a minute twitch of his eye. Dammit. 
You sigh and roll your eyes with annoyance, reaching out to softly shake his shoulder.
“Tim, it’s me. Wake up.”
He lazily swats your hand away, groaning again and mumbling a reply without even opening his eyes. 
“Whaddya want, kid…?” He asks, practically chewing his words.
“I can’t sleep,” You respond simply, giving a little shrug. Tim is not amused at this answer. 
“And why does this have to involve me?” He huffs, glancing at you for a moment before his eyes close again. He turns onto his side towards you, yawning as he tries to pull his blanket back up. 
You don’t really have an answer to that one. Why did you feel the need to come in here and wake Tim up? It’s not like he controls the thunder. It’s not like he controls your inability to sleep…
…But maybe he can help. 
“I can’t sleep,” You explain, trying to figure out how to word your request without sounding stupid, “The thunder is too loud. I thought maybe I could…you know…” 
Tim’s eyes finally open, for real. He raises a brow at you, and for a moment you fear you’ve overstepped, but his expression shifts to tired once more as he turns onto his back again. 
“Kid,” He mutters, clearly annoyed but trying to be gentle, “If you’re old enough to share a beer with me, you are definitely too damn old to be running into my bed ‘cause you’re scared of a li’l thunder.”
“I’m not scared,” You quickly protest, “It’s just too loud for me to sleep. I didn’t know what else to do, I just thought…”
You trail off. You’re not really sure what you thought.
“…Never mind.” 
You turn to walk away, hoping he’ll be too tired to remember this in the morning. You’re in the doorway when his gruff voice stops you. 
“Wait, wait,” He drawls, sleepily waving you over without moving from where he’s lying, “Get back here, I ain’t chasin’ ya off…” 
You pause at that, then slowly walk back to his bed. He’s silent, and for a few moments unmoving, but then he scoots over a bit, patting the bed next to him. 
“C’mon.” 
You sigh in relief, happy to see Tim responding at least somewhat positively. You climb into bed next to him, though you’re careful not to get too close to him. You and Tim don’t really do physical contact beyond a high five for a job well done. 
That’s what makes it all the more surprising when he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side but making sure to be gentle, giving you ample opportunity to pull away if you need to. You don’t.
He doesn’t turn to look at you, keeping his eyes closed and his face towards the ceiling, his free hand idly resting over his stomach. 
“…You ain’t too scared, are ya?” He drawls. You’re confused for a moment, but then the thunder sounds again and you realize what he means. You hadn’t even noticed the thunder since you walked in. It was nice. 
“No, I’m fine, really,” You insist, “I’m not scared, it’s just hard to sleep with the noise. It’s more annoying than anything else.”
He gives a grunt of acknowledgment. 
“You get on to sleep, then. Ain’t no reason for you to be tired tomorrow.” 
You nod, moving a bit closer to him. He, in turn, wraps him arm a bit tighter around you. It feels…nice. Foreign, yes, but far from unpleasant. He smells like pine trees and faded Old Spice cologne. 
You yawn softly, pulling the blanket up over the two of you as you get comfortable. A comfortable silence settles over you both as the sound of the thunder mixed with the blurry noise of the TV. You’re the first to break it, a question falling from your lips before you can really think of stopping it. 
“…You were worried I was afraid?” 
Tim shrugs, scratching at his stubble as he answers. 
“I mean, I guess…I just wanted to make sure, ya know? Make sure you didn’t need me to do nothing to make you feel better…” 
That makes you smile.
“Didn’t think you’d care that much…” You murmur with a hint of a giggle. 
“Don’t be stupid,” Tim quickly snaps, “Course I care. I care about you. Ain’t no way for me not to. I’ve cared about you since the second I took you in. You’re not that young, I know, but back then you were just a kid to me. You’ve matured since then, yeah, but I’ll never forget the way you looked when I found you wandering the trail that day…” 
“Yeah, yeah, and you remember when I was three apples tall, I get it,” You tease with a playful laugh. Tim can’t help but chuckle, giving you a little squeeze. 
“Can it, ya little shit. You know what I’m sayin’. I knew what I was doin’ when I let you into my home, I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t care.”
He’s got a point there. Most of the time Tim’s number one priority is self preservation. He rarely goes out of his way to do anything that doesn’t directly benefit him. He must’ve seen something in you absolutely worth the trouble. What exactly it is you’ll never know, but you’re certainly happy with where it’s gotten you. 
You turn to him a bit, giving him a tired smile. He turns to you as though he can sense your stare, cracking open one eye to return your smile before laying his head back again. 
“Alright, alright, ‘nuff yammerin’. Go to sleep,” He orders, reaching over to ruffle your hair before his hand rests back on his stomach. He never was good at being strict.
You stretch a bit before settling into your spot, getting as comfortable as you can so that you won’t have to shift around and risk bothering or waking up Tim later on. He hasn’t moved a muscle, his breathing already slowed and all of his muscles relaxed for once. It’s an odd sight, really. Usually he’s always holding some tension in his brow or jaw or shoulders, but he’s completely relaxed now, as are you. You finally feel like you could fall asleep.
“Night,” You mutter, your eyes fluttering shut. The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Tim’s southern drawl ringing in your ears. 
“Sweet dreams, kid.”
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appleblueberry-pie · 3 months
Note
Yandere Miguel asks? Alright
Miguel who's already lost his daughter Gabriella and his wife when he messed up the Canon and the universe got destroyed. He's doing his little thing in the spider society when he finds a universe nearly identical to the one that got destroyed, the one where he replaced himself.
Only, in this universe, (Y/n) and Gabriella are meant to die instead of that universe's Miguel.
I imagine Miguel would tell himself a lot of excuses and rationalizations before bringing those two back to his universe (probably with a permanent form of a day pass). A little white lie to them won't also hurt.
Its a plot I've been wanting to write for awhile (as a fellow Yan author) but I've put writing on the back burner so I wanted to share this idea and see how'd you approach it :)
I'll be honest, I didn't feel like writing the entire backstory for what you want(which I usually would), but I went to straight action.
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BLOOD MOON
He thought things would get easier from here. He thought he could finally come home, relax, see his beautiful and amazing wife, along with his precious baby girl. Because he's worked too hard in this lifetime. Too many short days and long nights, too many sacrifices made to keep himself and others safe. Too many deaths. Too many losses. Too many remembrances and forgotten memories. He just wanted it all to end. And he thought it did. Because he finally found you guys. Here you were standing before him with those gorgeous eyes he always got lost in. Telling him about his daughter and your day. So why were your words so venomous?
"I can't do this anymore." He kissed you on the forehead and closed the front door behind him. He walked past you and placed his work items on the table. "What was that, dear?" You stared at him as if he grew two heads. "We can't stay here forever, Miguel." He shuffles to get one shoe off before he finally comprehends your words. His face falls and he looks over at you. He had told you it was all in the past. Why are you bringing up old news? "Can't stay here?" He quotes you as if you said a joke. Your face twists into one of anger and you walk over to him.
"You know what I mean. Holding us here with no real motive besides keeping us for your own sick fucking pleasures. We're not pets, Miguel-" "Wait, wait, wait, wait. Where is this coming from? Pets?? Y/n, what are you talking about? I've never treated you like any kind of animals, you're my wife-"
"I don't know you!!" The growing silence allows you both hear the creak of a door opening from afar and Miguel begins to stare at you as if you mentioned something taboo. As if you're stupid. "Let's talk about this later." Miguel turns his back to you to go your shared bedroom. "No, I'm not going to talk about this later, Miguel, we're not from here! Look, I don't know what you want, or even who you are. But...you can't just-" Miguel feels his irritation that build up all day begin to rise again. His shoulders tense the more you talk, and your daughter peeking out her bedroom to witness this wasn't helping.
He turns to face you again, almost seeming to crowd over you. "I am your husband. I am your husband! I've given you everything you needed. I gave you a place to call home, a better home. You don't have to live off of minimum wage anymore. And finally, your daughter has a father figure to watch after her, aren't you happy?? Because I sure am! Gaby's been so happy now and so have you. Why can't you just.....appreciate the things I've sacrificed for the both of you???"
You scrunch your face and take a step back. This stranger suddenly spouting bullshit to you about your killed husband and saying that the two of you being in a random different universe is a blessing?? You're confused and scared and would rather live where you used to than wherever this foreign place is. He was beginning to piss you off. ".....How dare you?" Miguel raises his eyebrows when he notices your tone. "How dare you? My husband is fucking dead......You stole us away from home and now you're saying that whatever this shitshow is, is a blessing?" "Mommy?"
You shake your head and jab your finger into his chest. "You don't know the first thing about me." "I know you love teaching Gaby piano, I know you love going out on walks when the sun is setting, I know you love letting me drive you to places, I know you love when I cook you dinner, I know where you used to work, where you want to work, I know when you first told me you were pregnant with our babygirl, I have your vows memorized and I know that you love me. I know that you love me, so why don't you just let me love you, hermosa?" Miguel had backed you into a door and gently cradled your face into his hands. He softly whispers to you as if trying to snap you back into reality, as if it wasn't setting in the moment you realized this psycho was obsessed with you two.
"I would never, ever hurt you. I do everything for our family, nothing else. My two girls are the only things on my mind all day when I'm at work. And to come back home to you is everything I could ask for. And if there was anything else I could ask for, is for you to love me back. Please." He had gestured your daughter out of her bedroom and she ran into his arms. He smiled down at her, making her worried face shift into one of relief. Miguel laughs and kisses her forehead lovingly. You want to kill this man for ever putting his hands on you and your daughter. You failed to keep your girl safe and now she was in the hands of a monster she believed to be her dead daddy. Your worst fucking nightmare come true. Calling out to her and making her come to your side wouldn't save her. Attempting to kill him wouldn't save her because then the both of you would be stuck wherever you were. All you wanted was for her to live a normal life, and not even the universe could give you that. What were you gonna do?
Miguel noticed your blank face and sent Gaby away, grabbing your hand gently. You let him. He hugs you and whispers into your ear. "I'm done talking about this. You clearly need sleep." You look up at him, glaring, yet he continues to stare down at you with adoration. He leaves no room for argument as he opens the bedroom door to lead you in.
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archonsabyss · 4 months
Text
╰─..✶. [ Luminary ]
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❒ pairing: xavier x fem!reader
"I've wandered through galaxies, whispered my hopes to the stars, lived every breath and embraced myriad lives until they blurred into countless chapters — all devoted to you."
❒ genre: romance! angst w comfort!
❒ warnings: content involving vague writings of violence, death, murder, killing, blood! emotional turmoil and breakdowns! heavy plot holes! have mercy and forgive any inaccuracies in my descriptions related to the medical field, idk how that shit actually works!
❒ word count: 5.1k
─❒ authors note: i'm struggling, actually struggling so much with my writing once again so please do forgive the quality of this one 💙
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The heavens mirrored the solemnity of your soul, with dense grey clouds enclosing and condemning the sun to a brief period of isolation— a parallel to the solitude that settled within your heart as grief insidiously made its presence known.
Your gaze ascends to the sky as though peering into a reflection of your past and you struggle to understand how you reached this point in time, unable to comprehend what of your choices and decisions led you to plunge into the depths of despair and desolation as you did.
The realization of untampered darkness within you was not much of a surprise, rather it was the pain that was so well concealed that rendered you motionless and imperturbable. You had almost forgotten the sensation of such sorrow, convinced you had submerged it deep enough to never resurface. Yet, you failed to consider that a drowned body will inevitably float to the surface with consequences trailing in the wake of its demise.
For so long, you've endured with unwavering determination, but the torrents seeping through the cracks in your defences gradually began to erode all that kept it under control.
How pitiful it is to feel your heart wail in agony as a knife wielded by your own hand carves it in half.
As you stand with your shoulders slouched under the weight of the waterlogged fabric, you strive with everything left in you to suppress it back into the abyss of ignorance, but your strength wanes and your body acts autonomously as tears interweave with the gentle showers drumming and streaming down your cheeks until they mercilessly evolve into a downpour, forcing you to confront the stark reality of your choices amid a tumultuous and destructive storm.
You shook your head, sending droplets scattering like tiny diamonds in the air. The biting cold is harsh and unforgiving, relentlessly gnawing at your body and sapping away its warmth. A lump forms in your throat, aching with the desire to release a sob but your resilience staunchly restrains it and you clamp down on your quivering lower lip with hands clenched at your side as you repeat all is okay, that you are entirely fine— believing in your unyielding strength, to prove that nothing could break you as you remain the strongest person you know. It was a good effort but ultimately futile.
You ambled through the streets with your legs carrying you on autopilot while your mind roamed elsewhere. You ended up in a park uncertain if you'd ever been there before. A sudden wave of disorientation swept over you and you stumbled forward with your hands outstretched, but there was no one there to catch you. In search of stability, you staggered toward the nearest support, a tree, and reluctantly leaned against it having no choice but to rely on something to prevent collapsing. There was not a single part of you that remained intact as your knees sunk into the dirt ground and your nails dug into the bark of the tree.
This was not how it was meant to be! This wasn't right! You were not supposed to treat your body and heart the way every other person did, but it unfolded without your awareness and now the price of your ignorance finds you pitying yourself, drenched in the rain and longing to thrust a hand into your chest and silence your beating heart permanently.
You pounded your fists against your thigh disregarding the pain it brought. Sobs wrack your body as your chest rises and falls with each heave. The blood coagulated in your throat and you envisioned yourself hunched over clawing for breath as the air refused to pass through your obstructed airways.
"For how long must I be strong? What more must I give? How many more sacrifices must I make?" Your voice wavers through sudden gasps and sniffles, its timbre quivering with vulnerability as the universe remains silent. It always does, merely standing witness to the tribulations it inflicts upon you. When people hurt you without remorse, you endured it not out of patience or strength but out of fear, and while the universe granted them solace you were left begging for relief from the guilt trapping your soul, feeling it all deeper than before.
Nothing could alleviate the burden of ending their lives not even attempting to justify yourself by claiming they started it, "it was simply a matter of them or me." Ultimately, that decision proved to be the wrong choice as the realization dawned that you had sacrificed your humanity. The absence of integrity was lost in the act of taking their lives and the isolation in this internal struggle felt profoundly misunderstood. This wasn't the person you aspired to become, yet familial ties compelled you down this dark path. Their betrayal became anchors to hell and their animosity unwittingly guided them to their downfall, but at the end of the day even in death, they emerged victorious while you found yourself remaining on the earth burdened by guilt and self-loathing.
You threw your head back and unleashed a primal scream expelling all your pain, its piercing resonance shattering the silence like a jagged shard. The heavens trembled and lightning struck the skies. The rain cascaded in rivulets submerging the earth and soaking your clothes in its tears. The tempest of fury raged on as the winds of destruction tore through the air with force that caused the trees to bend and sway violently, forcing them to submit to the relentless gusts as their branches swayed in a mournful disordered rhythm. The clatter of metal echoed as swings violently swung and collided while bolts creaked as one side of the seesaw rose and fell with a resounding thud.
The once joyful playground had been transformed into a realm of chaos where nightmares lurked. You were far too deeply within the prison of your mind that your instincts dulled and left you unable to grasp the palpable core of those nightmares that suddenly unveiled themselves. Wisps of dark smoke seeped out and the acrid scent of metal and sulphur tainted the air. They coiled around the undulating waves in the crack of the air, and if not for the bellowing screech that accompanied their movement you wouldn't have snapped back to reality in time to hurl yourself out of harm's way— fortunately evading a colossal tentacle speeding towards you with bone-crushing speed.
The scent of burning wood entered your nostrils as the tree split in two, ignited with flames that the rain could not extinguish.
Your head jerked upward and you surveyed your surroundings with swollen eyes and blurred vision. A flick of your wrist conjured a subtle ball of light that spread across your hand, shaping it into a weapon. You gripped the hilt tightly and leaped to your feet assuming a fighting stance as the ground shook.
Your hunter's watch emitted a steady stream of pings, detecting the presence of metaflux. The fluctuations grew erratic as the rain paused, moments before lightning erupted from the rift, branching out in all directions. A wanderer emerged, its claws distending the fabric of time and space as it propelled itself through the opening. It loomed large, its jaw seemingly big enough to fit a dozen people and more.
Your fingers tightened, your eyes struggling to adjust to the haziness after crying and the continuous downpour of rain when it hurled itself at you.
You pushed back on your feet narrowly avoiding it by a split second before regaining your composure and surging after it, only realizing that you miscalculated when your timing was off and he was already in the midst of a secondary attack. Your face collided with the coarse surface of its arm, and you sensed the scales of its armour slicing your cheek and arm as you were hurled across the field, tumbling until you lay sprawled on your back, bones aching. You cough upon impact, requiring a moment to pull yourself up and resume the fight. Usually, in situations like these you maintained a relatively clear mindset, adept at dodging and evading until you identified a weak point but today deviated from the usual, and you found yourself completely off your game.
Hunter's Watch: Warning! Critical injury detected! Immediate attention and medical assistance are strongly advised.
There was deep drilling in your ears that you couldn't shake as you spun on your feet and evaded its attacks. Your vision dimmed with every move until one of its nine tentacles reached out and hit you full force in your stomach. With each movement, your vision began to fade until one of its nine tentacles extended and struck you forcefully in the stomach. The force of the impact made you scream as you went flying backwards, rolling across the ground. Struggling to rise, you found your arms weakened. You glanced down at your weapon to discover your hands coated in blood. Your heart raced and the world started to spin. You staggered back onto your feet, fixated on the abrupt onslaught of pain that ripples up your arm and leg, leaving the monster unattended.
Hunter's Watch: Warning! Blood loss will exceed the maximum threshold.
Hunter's Watch: Please stop the bleeding!
The unfolding events were beyond comprehension with your strength diminishing more rapidly than you could muster the will to escape. As your physical stamina waned, your mental fortitude weakened, allowing the emotions you had suppressed earlier to engulf you. Your body shuddered, unable to bear the burden of guilt and the repercussions ensued as a comet of fire hurtled towards you, its flames transcending scorching temperatures.
Did you wish for survival?
Were you counting on the flames to sear away your pain?
What thoughts raced through your mind as you collapsed— did you believe this was how you were meant to meet your end?
It was too late. As your screams ascended at an excruciating pace, the skin on your bones seemed to melt away and you were resigned to a painful demise with no intention of fighting it, a testament to the fragility of the human mind.
Just then, in the blink of an eye, the cosmic quilt of destiny unravelled, as if a mischievous celestial weaver decided to rethread the threads of fate.
A mosaic of radiant luminaries erupted, painting a new tapestry where the unexpected danced with the stars. Abruptly, you found yourself withdrawn from the blazing inferno and held instead in the embrace of an angel. Your head nestled against his chest while his arms supported you beneath your thighs. His eyes intensified with a hue contrasting his radiance, a darkness that remained steadfast as he gazed immovably at the creature roaring, his fingers tightening around your legs to contain his anger.
"Xavier," You whispered plaintively, an ache welling in your throat as your hand gripped the fabric of his attire. You shut your eyes tightly, surrendering to the overwhelming embarrassment he's caught you in. Xavier only shakes his head, redirecting his focus solely towards you and calming your sobs with a gentle tone, "I'm here."
His voice reverberates in your ears, akin to the soothing hymn of an angel serenading your soul into tranquillity, and he embraces you tightly as if your anguish resonates within him and he can feel the depth of sorrow overtaking you. He wishes nothing more than to hold you in his arms and let your heart unburden itself from the ache, but the wanderer in question remains an untamed and perilous force that demands attention. His hand grips your thighs in a final reassurance before the weight of his body shifts to his feet. With force and agility, he pushes back, executing a nimble jump and safely landing a distance away from the growling monster whose arms stretch open, a red hue engulfing it.
"Xavier"
Xavier has positioned you against a tree, his gaze fixed elsewhere until your voice calls for him and his head snaps in your direction. "I can help."
His hand presses onto your shoulder, preventing you from getting up. He shakes his head, "No"
"You can't handle this alone!"
Xavier grins in response to your concern, gently guiding your hand to rest against his cheek. His eyes gleam with affection as they meet yours and softly, his lips graze your palm leaving behind a tender kiss. "Wait for me" And he vanishes, taking away his comforting touch and the tranquillity it bestowed upon your soul. The weariness weighs heavy as you accept the finality of where you've ended up. Your head tilts backward, cradled against the unforgiving roughness of the tree's bark. The sensation of numbness begins to creep into your limbs, a chilling reminder of the severity of your wounds. Blood trickles steadily from the deep gashes, painting a vivid tableau of agony.
As the crimson stains spread across your body, they weave a tapestry of pain, etching a story of endurance and resilience into the very fabric of your being. In this fleeting moment, contemplation grips your thoughts as you ponder the unfolding sequence of events, and as a subtle longing emerges, you realize maybe─ you would have liked to catch one last glimpse of Xavier's face, just before the impending darkness eclipses your vision and you go under.
🜙˚─ (˚ ⁀💫⋅ • ⋅ ⊰∙∘ 𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ༓ ⟡‧₊˚
There's an indistinct murmur of muted conversations that fills the air as your senses gradually begin to awaken. Your ears are the first to attune while your eyes wrestle with the heaviness of slumber.
An uneasy tension creases your forehead, driven by the ambiguity of your surroundings and the events that transpired before falling unconscious. It is when your lips part and a raspy groan escapes that a sudden hush descends upon the surroundings as if a pin has delicately pricked the surface of silence. In that stillness, something makes contact with your hand and elicits an instinctual impulse to withdraw, but the gentle caress and the ethereal silkiness of the skin prevent the reflex as it glides up your palm until fingers intertwine with yours, creating an unexpected connection that transcends the quiet moment, leaving you to drift amidst the realms that border consciousness and unconsciousness. Then there's a clear voice that emerges, although the words uttered can't be easily made out, it feels familiar enough to your ears that your body relaxes upon its touch.
"Wake up─ wake up for me" His voice drifts softly along the planes of desperation and urgency, a gentle caress akin to a feather brushing against the surface of your conscious as he urges you to battle the tempting allure of sleep and return to him; accept the hand he extends, to choose him just as he has chosen you. Stay by his side, as faithfully as he has remained at yours, and you try to resist, to rouse yourself, but the injuries persist in their fight to keep you under. You see, the wanderer's attack and the subsequent unconsciousness marked you gravely, but it was the preceding events that truly etched a deeper impression, and making a decision is a battle in itself, attempting to align your subconscious, body, and the longing cries of your heart.
"I can't let you go, not again, not when I finally have you. I won't allow it, do you hear me? You're not allowed to walk away, to give up!"
Why does his voice pull at the threads of your being, urging your soul to life?
Why do you sense the temptation to tread the earth despite the nightmarish ordeal it has become?
"Open your eyes," He called out every so often. Uncertain of the day or time, you just knew it was consistently present after each period of silence. It reverberates in your mind like an elusive itch, persistently beyond reach. It compels you to awaken, each time with a heightened determination.
One evening, as night stretches into the late hours, his voice reemerges. Fatigue colours his tone, yet his presence remains unwavering. He shares with you the stories of his heart, recounting how it has guided him to you in every incarnation of life. Each tale is sewn with threads of longing that span across time and space. As he speaks, you feel the weight of his emotions and the depth of his love like you've never understood before. His voice leads you into a soothing calm and is followed by an unexpected movement, or at least that is what you think.
You're unable to discern if your hand was indeed being lifted, soft lips pressing against your skin in a kiss to your knuckles, or if it's all just an illusion born from the haze of unconsciousness. Your mind, like a distant echo, wills to react to his voice and his touch until finally, it begins to stir, attempting to bridge the gap between dreams and reality.
The room holds its breath and with a final desperate effort, you push against the wall of unconsciousness, breaking free from its suffocating grasp. As you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the sight of his face etched with concern and relief upon your awakening. His hand tightens around yours almost instantly, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips as you blink mindlessly. The world around you fades into oblivion as your gaze fixates solely on him. Suddenly, a surge of overwhelming emotion washes over you and a sob escapes your throat uncontrollably. Xavier swiftly rises from his seat, cupping your face in his hands and tentatively brushing away your tears, his touch carrying a blend of solace and shared melancholy.
"You didn't leave"
His eyes meet yours, reflecting the pain he feels upon witnessing your suffering as if every hurt you endure cuts him deeper. Frantically, you attempt to sit up but he quickly grasps your forearms.
"Why didn't you leave me" You cried.
"Because leaving you was never an option, not when you needed me the most" His answer is resolute, yet delivered with a gentleness that caresses your troubled soul. You peer through lowered lashes and blurred eyes, your voice faltering and your lip trembling.
"Why!"
"You know why"
"But I killed them" Maybe if you said it aloud it would make him see the gravity of your sin, "Doesn't the mere sight of me revolt you? How can you hold these hands stained with blood"
"These hands─" He lifts them to his lips, planting a kiss on each of your knuckles, "Hold my heart. And you forget whose hands hold you"
"I don't know if I can endure this. How do I carry the weight of my actions? I feel overwhelmed by despair and anger, Xavier. I just want to disappear"
The anguish in your voice twists his heart, a perpetual reminder that, no matter his efforts or sacrifices, it's always you bearing the pain through countless eons. In every exchange, Xavier speaks and responds with enduring patience, his words etched with a deep understanding that roots from enduring the same challenges time and time again, but there's a hint of selfishness to his assurance as he responds, "You will endure as you've always done."
You will persevere and triumph over the guilt of taking your parent's lives. They were the ones who wronged you initially. They dared to tear you away from him, and thus, they rightfully deserved to lose their lives. Xavier swore upon his existence, his planet, and the bonds constricting his heart that he would devise a means to inflict pain upon them even in the afterlife. Once he has restored your shattered, grief-stricken heart, he will pursue vengeance relentlessly.
"I'm here, so don't cry anymore"
He cradles your face in his hand, gently lifting your chin to seal his words and emotions in a promise conveyed through the kiss that he draws you into. The warmth of his lips against yours speaks volumes, a silent vow that transcends the boundaries of any known and spoken language.
Even as he pulls away, the taste of him lingers as a reminder that the love you've been running from was patiently waiting for you all along.
It is as he pulls away that you breathe in and question why you solely focus on hating yourself and those who abandoned you, when the one person who constantly remained at your side enduring every torment and hell just to love you and be with you, is holding you right now.
"It will get better" He kissed your forehead.
"Will it really?"
"One day you'll wake up and see you're worth every bit of blood spilled. They weren't parents, not family, but a twisted creation manipulated and created from greed"
"They were the only family I ever knew, even if it was an illusion. It hurts"
"You've been through so much, and I can't fix it, but we'll get through this together"
"What if I can't forget?"
He offers a reassuring smile. "You trust me, don't you?"
You nod.
"You don't need to forget, you only need to accept it. Over time the pain will ease and the guilt will fade away"
"You sound so sure" You whispered faintly.
"Because I am. I'll walk beside you every step of the way until the very end, holding onto hope until you find it"
My life is yours
🜙˚─ (˚ ⁀💫⋅ • ⋅ ⊰∙∘ 𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ༓ ⟡‧₊˚
As the night wore on and your tears ebbed away, in the quietude of a dimly-lit room basked in the gentle glow of a solitary lamp, you lay in bed, tending to not only physical injuries but also the emotional toll that had settled deep within you. Xavier had moved quietly in, out, and around the room for some time, tending to your well-being with a meticulous touch. His care extended beyond mere physical comforts; he fetched a comforting mug of tea, its warmth a soothing relief to your parched throat. In between his attentiveness, he settled into the chair beside the bed and held your hand. The subtle pressure of his touch reminded you he was present, each gesture a balm for the wounds that couldn't be seen.
Your head finds solace against the plush softness of his pillow as you lean back against the headboard. Your gaze wanders across his bedroom, each detail etching itself into your memory. The overwhelming presence and unsettling hum of medical equipment to your right casts a somber shadow, yet despite the sterile environment the essence of his being surrounds you in every conceivable way. The subtle whiff of scents– a hint of vanilla from the candles that rest on the bedside table, a faint trace of his cologne lingering in the air.
There is a shelf filled with books on one wall to your left; he often has a book in hand, though he tends to doze off before reaching the next chapter and many times, you find yourself picking it up and reading while he peacefully snoozes beside you. A potted plant rests on the windowsill, its dull green leaves reaching toward the moonlit night beyond. It's only then that you glance at the darkened sky outside and realize you've lost track of both the time and the date. You'll have to wait until Xavier comes back to ask him. In the meantime, your gaze carries on and lands on a drawer opposing the bed where a few framed photographs sit. Your heart brims with emotion at the sight of a singular image– just one in particular amongst the rest of the framed canvases of sky, flowers, and a quote. It's a collage preserving the image of both of you beneath the canopy of cherry blossoms. The initial frame freezes a shared moment of joy, your smiles captured by the camera– your teeth gleaming as Xavier's grin is subtle. Then, in the second frame, his gaze lingers on you as you lean in closer, the intimacy between you more pronounced than in the first picture.
You want to get out of bed to fetch it but you're restrained by the array of machines diligently monitoring your vital signs. There's a web of wires connecting you to the heart monitor, electrodes adhered strategically to your chest to pick up every blip and fluctuation of your heartbeat. The pulse oximeter on your finger quietly gauged the oxygen levels in your blood, a small yet crucial device providing insights into your respiratory health. Its rhythmic beeping harmonized with your gentle breaths, a reassuring cadence that mirrored the rise and fall of your chest.
Slowly, frustration begins to creep in, and as if the universe has heard you, Xavier re-enters the room holding a small bag in one hand and his phone in the other. You take a moment to fully observe him and note that he has changed clothes, now wearing a cozy white sweater instead of his hunter's jacket.
He raises his head to meet yours, offering a sweet smile, and as you finally notice the dark rings accentuating his eyes, your lips turn into a frown.
Xavier places the small bag on the side table, casting a glance at the machines tethered to you.
"Feeling better?" He asks, his voice cutting through the hum of medical equipment and you look down, unsure. There's a void where intense emotions once resided, and not even the overwhelming gravity of events that brought you here could stir you.
"How long have I been unconscious?"
Xavier's expression softens, "It's been two weeks"
"Two weeks?" You repeat, disbelief carrying your tone and Xavier nods as he unpacks the food containers from the bag and places them on the bedside table.
"That's why you're here with me instead of the hospital. Convincing them to let me bring you home wasn't easy," He admits, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "It took a few days, and only when your condition stabilized did they finally agree. Hence, the impromptu hospital setup. According to their assessments, you would have been quite alright under my care as long as I kept a close eye on your condition and arranged for a private doctor to check on you daily"
"Your physical wounds were critical, mainly due to blood loss. I'm surprised you've woken already," Xavier remarked, observing you nibble on the food he brought. He knew that if you were to crave anything, it'd be your favourite takeout. "As for your Hunter's Watch, it was damaged beyond repair, but I'll get it replaced once you're back on your feet."
His words offer a glimmer of hope, reminding you that even amidst the challenges, there are solutions and ways forward. With Xavier by your side, navigating the road to recovery feels a little less daunting. He hands you a bottle of water to wash down the meal, his eyes attentively watching your every move. He fears that if he so much as glances away or blinks, you might vanish.
After you've consumed enough food to quell your hunger, Xavier cleans up and rearranges the pillows behind your back, going the extra mile by placing a hand on your forehead to check your temperature.
"Do you need anything else?" His gaze lingers on the machines monitoring your vitals before they do a once over your body.
You shake your head, and he smiles, although it appears somewhat off in a way you can't quite pinpoint. Leaning in, he places a gentle kiss on your forehead and then your cheek, allowing his lips to linger as he wishes you goodnight.
"Where are you going?" You asked frantically grabbing onto his forearm and holding it tightly when you see him get up as if ready to leave.
Xavier's weary eyes flutter as he swiftly cups your face and quiets you, soothing your distress. He's at a loss for words, lamenting the stars for their impeccable timing. He looks at you and witnesses the battle you wage against the encroaching emptiness, determined to shield your inner light. A surge of intense anger courses through him, directed at everything that subjected you to such hardship. While he's beyond relieved by your awakening, don't get him wrong, he wonders why it had to happen on the very night he had planned to seek answers. He can't openly confess that he's endured days without a proper amount of sleep, at most managing four hours if not merely two due to spending the majority of his time either at your side; resulting in a stiff and aching neck from all the awkward positions he's maintained; or out on the streets gathering information and obliterating anyone who dared to tamper with your mind, subjecting you to this torment, essentially, his intention was to erase every trace of their existence from the fabric of reality. But now that you're awake he has no intention of leaving you. It can wait.
He exhales, and with the gentle huff of air that leaves his mouth, his heart crumbles and the fragments fall into your hands.
His head bows forward, his hair veiling the sorrow in his expression.
His hands press into the mattress and headboard, the pressure causing his knuckles to whiten.
You extend your hand to take hold of his chin, intending to tilt his head back and peer beyond the protective barrier he maintains, but Xavier, proves adept at this charade, swiftly evading a glimpse into his inner turmoil. He offers a dismissive smile which somehow inflicts more pain than when your brother's hand is clasped around your neck in an attempt to strangle you.
"You should get some rest" He murmured, his fingertips delicately mapping the lines of your jaw as he observed the fatigue etched on your face, a testament to the weight of the day and the even longer week you had endured. His words hung in the air, the shared moment laden with unanswered questions and unexpressed emotions on both sides. While his concern begged him to inquire, to unravel the intricacies of the events that had propelled you into this emotional turmoil, he refrained from prying, acutely aware of the fragility of your shaken composure.
"Will you stay?"
"Always"
Xavier cautiously joined you in bed, unsure if it was alright, but when you didn't object and snuggled against his chest, he felt reassured, then as he cradled you in his arms offering support without saying a word. his attention fixed on the gentle beeping of your heartbeat echoing from the monitor until eventually, exhaustion crept in, lulling him into sleep alongside you.
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✧ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!
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eyrina-avatar · 1 year
Text
Mother's Day
parining: Neteyam x reader aged up and are parents - a mother's day special
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synopsis: after the battle of Awa'atlu and with Quaritch now dead, the Sullys are back to living a peaceful life at the forest and Neteyam and reader have a child. Neteyam has a surprise for reader on Mother's Day.
warnings: none, mostly fluff. only a little tiny mention of reader doubting her skills as a new mother but those thoughts are later on squashed.
author's note: do na'vi babies use diapers or just loincloths that are regularly changed? I looked online and couldn't find any info on it. I mentioned about two weeks ago that this was supposed to come out on Sunday, so I know it’s late and Mother’s Day is long gone but oh well, life has been busy. Enjoy!
word count: 2.4k
glossary: prrnen- baby, ma'itan- my son, eyaye plant- warbonnet fern (the big glowing leaves of pandora that looks like a fan- in the right pic of the header), panopyras- the plant that looks like a glowing jellyfish (in the left pic of header). more info can be found on avatar's official pandorapedia and on avatar wiki.
┆彡
You gently moved your baby back and forth in your arms as you tried to calm his crying.
"Mawey, mawey ma'itan," you cooed into his ear as you tried to figure out what was making your less than one-year-old son so cranky.
"What is wrong, huh? I just fed you an hour ago, and daddy just changed your nappies." Your baby began to grow more irritable by the minute, and you had to find a quick solution. The baby was supposed to be asleep; that way you could go out into the forest to gather some fruit and vegetables for dinner.
Your son had now begun sucking on his thumb while crying and moving his head close to your chest in search of milk.
"You're still hungry? Is that what it is?" You adjusted your top to let your son feed on you, instantly calming his crying and fussiness. "What an appetite." You simply shook your head and laughed.
"Happy Mother's Day!" You heard a loud commotion outside of Neteyam's and your shared Marui. You moved the opening of your tent and peered outside, and saw Jake and his kids, Neteyam included, all showering Neytiri with attention. They all gave her a big hug and handed her flowers, rare fruits, bracelets, and a matching headset. She thanked her family for the presents, and you merely smiled at the kind gesture. You closed the flap of your tent, basking in the warmth and tranquility of your child as his eyes were now closed, content with his feeding.
When you were previously an avatar before your permanent soul transfer, you had already learned of Mother's Day and its significance. Though now, as a Na'vi, you grew to the customs of the Omaticaya and have not paid much attention to it until now.
As a mother of a young baby, not even a toddler, you knew not to expect anything significant on the day yet. How would your child know to give you a gift or thank you for being his mother? Foolishness- he was too young for you to even think about that, and you let out a small chuckle at your own thoughts and sighed.
Jake always made it clear to Neytiri on Mother's Day how much he loved and appreciated her, and he always gave her something for mothering their children. Would Neteyam do the same to you as well?
Although Neteyam is a Na'vi, you slightly expected him to know that this day held significance for you as well, especially as the father of your child. Or maybe he didn't know?
But like the rest of the Sully kids, he learned about it from Jake and has not missed a single year to gift something to Neytiri on this special day. Or maybe he didn't think you were such a good mother after all. Perhaps you were just being silly, how could you expect someone to congratulate you on something you’re so new at? You’re Na’vi now, and perhaps you should just get used to it.
You simply sighed again at the thought and placed your child in your frontal wrap as you prepared to go out and gather the food for later.
"What is it? Is something wrong?" Neteyam walked into your tent and gave you a questioning look.
"No, no. Nothing’s wrong." You shook your head and smiled.
“I heard you sighing as if something was wrong.” Neteyam interrogated.
“Oh, I’m fine, Nete. I was just glad that the baby finally fell asleep after crying for so long.” You petted your son’s head as you tried to sell your excuse to your mate.
“I see. Sorry for not coming into the tent sooner. I thought I heard a baby crying, but I was a bit busy at the moment.” Neteyam helped you up as you grabbed a basket for the food you were getting ready to pick.
“It’s fine-”
“No, no, I should have helped you out-”
“Neteyam.” You placed your hand on his, “It’s fine. The baby was just hungry again, you weren’t going to be much help in that situation.” You let out a small giggle.
He simply chuckled, “I guess not.”
“I’ll be back in time to make dinner.” You waved as you made your way out of the tent.
Huh, busy? Simply busy celebrating Mother’s Day and not with you. You rolled your eyes and huffed out. Y/n, get yourself together.
You shook your head in disbelief at your own antics.
I’m sure Neteyam appreciates you, he’s probably just waiting for the baby to get bigger to celebrate Mother’s Day. In fact, maybe he’ll tell your son when he gets older. Yes, that's it.
You smiled to yourself as you came up with a conclusion and decided to drop the topic, knowing that getting upset over something so trivial wouldn’t do you any good.
You contently continued your way into the forest.
Nete, I’m home. Dinner will be ready s-” you looked into your marui and saw no one inside. Maybe Neteyam was out hunting, or busy helping his siblings, probably bailing Lo’ak out of trouble or something. You laughed at the thought.
You placed your still-asleep son in his cot and got straight to cooking as you peeled the fruits and vegetables, and moved the veggies onto separate plates, chopped, and cooked them. With your quick and skilled hands, the food was ready in no time, and your mate was home in no time as well.
“Mmm, what is that delicious smell, huh?” Neteyam made his way towards you. “Is that the wonderful cooking of my cute wife?” He bent down and gave you a kiss. Your tail swished back and forth at the compliment, and you blushed.
“Oh, just sit down.” You jokingly rolled your eyes as you gave him a bowl of food. “Thank you, love,” he smiled at you, and you sent one back.
“So, where were you?” You pried as you ate your food.
“Eh, just helping one of the clan members hunt some meat. No luck today, though.” Neteyam continued eating.
Hmm, strange. He’s all neat and clean, not a drop of sweat. Unless he bathed at the river before coming over? Probably so.
You decided to stop overthinking and just enjoy your food before you soured your appetite.
The rest of the meal was quiet but comfortable.
“Alrighty, done. That was delicious, as always.” Neteyam handed you the bowls, and you set them aside.
“So, anything in plan to do lat-” you were cut off with the sound of crying waving through your ears. You rushed over to your son and picked him up.
“Here, let me help.” Neteyam made his way over to you and took the baby from your hands. “What is my little mighty warrior so upset about, huh?” Your mate gently rocked the child back and forth.
“Shh, shh. Daddy's right here.” He cooed, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the self-given name.
The baby wouldn’t stop crying, and so you took a peek at his bottom. “Oh,” you simply let out.
“What is it?” Neteyam gave you a questioning look.
“He needs to be cleaned.” You took the baby out of Neteyam’s arms and placed him on a mat.
“Look at that cutie!” Kiri beamed as she entered the tent and made her way straight to you and Neteyam’s son. “Aww, don’t you worry. He needs a cleaning, right? I’ll take care of it.” Kiri shooed your hands away and got to work.
“No, Kiri, you don’t have to do that.” You felt bad and tried to stop her.
“Nonsense, I’ll take care of him. Go out with Neteyam and do something. Maybe go on one of those dates or whatever you romantics like to do.” She simply waved you away.
“Thank you,” Neteyam mouthed to her when you weren’t looking.
“Are you sure?” You let out as Neteyam dragged you out of the tent.
“Kiri will be fine.” He assured you.
“Well, where are we going?” You asked.
“Put this on.” He gave you a blindfold, and you simply looked at him confused about what he was doing.
“What?”
“Just put it on, you trust me, right?”
“Yes…”
“Good. Then put it on.”
You held the blindfold over your eyes, and Neteyam tied it. “How will I know where to step? What if I fall?” You asked, giving a questioning look behind the cloth.
“You wont.” Neteyam swooped you up in his arms and carried you bridal style. “You see?” He smirked.
“Well technically since I’m blindfolded right now…” Neteyam lowered his arms down, threatening to drop you. “Alright, ALRIGHT. I get it!” You let out as he swung you over his shoulders and made his way into the forest with you.
“Are we there yet?” You groaned at the long walk to wherever it was that Neteyam was taking you.
“C’mon, just wait a bit. We’re almost there.” Neteyam readjusted his hold on you.
“You said that like 5 minutes ago,” you rolled your eyes behind the cloth.
“You're starting to sound like Tuk with all of that complaining.” He chuckled
“Am not!”
“You see, you’re even arguing like her.” He teased as you swung your tail by his face in retaliation.
“Alright, I’m putting you down. We’re almost there, and you can walk from here.” Neteyam carefully lowered your legs to the ground. “I’ll hold your hand so you don’t fall.” He took your hand in a firm grasp and led the way.
“Alright, just a few more steps, c’mon.” Neteyam led you down a small hill and brought you to a stop at the bottom. “You can open your eyes now.”
You untied the cloth from your eyes and gasped at the view. A beautiful glowing stream flowed in front of you, and a small nearby waterfall fed it as a few hexapedes quenched their thirst on it. Lizards flew around you, and atokirinas gracefully danced in the air as some landed near the panopyras and on the lily pads in the water.
“Nete-“ you were speechless at the sight. This was the spot that made you fall in love with the forest, always so majestic and peaceful, breathtaking, and full of color and life.
“It’s beautiful, I love it! We haven't been here in ages; you know this is my favorite spot!” You gleamed as you faced Neteyam, and he smiled at your reaction.
"Well, what type of mate would I be if I didn't bring you anywhere nice on this special day?" He smirked, and your eyes widened in shock.
"You remembered?" Your jaw dropped open at his comment in realization that this indeed was for Mother's Day.
"Of course I did! How could I forget the beautiful mother of our child, huh?" Neteyam pecked your cheek with a kiss. "Happy Mother's Day, love. And thank you for being such a wonderful and good mother to our firstborn son. I couldn't have asked for anyone else."
A tear rolled down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away and sniffled as you tried to control your emotions. "Thank you. I love you so much." You wrapped your arms around Neteyam as he embraced you in a warm hug.
"I love you." He responded as he held you in his arms and looked down at your eyes, "I've got something for you."
You simply tilted your head in confusion as he let go of you and walked behind a tree, bending down to pick something up.
He brought back an object wrapped in eyaye leaves and handed it to you.
"What is this?" You gave him a 'you shouldn't have' look.
"Just a little something for you. Open it up, sweetheart." His tail swished back and forth in nervousness as you unwrapped the gift, and your eyes lit up at the sight.
You held up two matching bracelets, both filled with your favorite colors, blue and purple. Those were the bioluminescent colors of the forest that made you fall in love with Pandora, and Neteyam knew just how special they were to you.
"Do you like it?" His ears flickered at his anxiousness.
"I love it! It's beautiful, and they're my favorite colors! Nete, you know me so well!" You ran up to Neteyam and jumped up as you gave him a hug, almost knocking him down in the process. You grabbed his face and gave him small pecks everywhere, his cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, and finally, his lips.
"Well, I'm glad you like it." He chuckled at your antics and put you down. You put one bracelet on your ankle and the other on your wrist. Both fitted perfectly, and you raised your eyebrows at Neteyam.
As if knowing what you were going to say, he blurted out, "I measured you while you were sleeping. You're not such a light sleeper after all." Neteyam smirked.
"Well, however it was that you got the size, it worked. They fit wonderfully and look absolutely beautiful. I love them so much, thank you, ma'teyam." You smiled at your thoughtful mate and the beautiful gifts, mentally scorning yourself for your doubts earlier.
"And these are for you as well." Neteyam handed you a beautiful bouquet of sun lilies, glowing blue with purple outlines surrounding the petals and stems.
"Babe... you really outdid yourself. You know that, right?" You shook your head as you gently grabbed the flowers from his hands and smelled them. "They look great and smell amazing. Thank you." You smiled up at Neteyam as he held his hand on your back, and the both of you sat at the edge of the river, legs now kicking in the water.
"I'm so grateful to have you as my mate, my beautiful wife, and the wonderful mother of our child and hopefully many more to come, if you allow it." Neteyam kissed your cheek, and you smiled at the thought.
"And I'm so grateful to have you in my life, I wouldn't trade you for anything else. You make me feel like the happiest woman on Pandora; of course I would be glad to mother all of our future children." You smiled up at the stars as you held the flowers in your hands as a child, already used to carrying your baby in that position, causing Neteyam to chuckle at the sight.
"I love you," you turned to look at him.
"And I love you." Neteyam held your face in his hand.
"Forever..." you leaned in.
"...and always." Neteyam sealed his love for you with a kiss.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
again, sorry this came out so late. this was supposed to come out on Mother's Day but unfortunately I wasn't able to complete it sooner. I hope it came out decent enough for you guys to enjoy it.
reblogs/comments etc. are much appreciated
let me know if you want to be included in a taglist.
do not steal my work and please don't post it on ao3 or wattpad
© eyrina-avatar
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colors used:#ED345F and #FFB3CF
credit: divider from this post: here
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sabertoothwalrus · 2 years
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predictions for rest of Owl House season 3
I can't see an ending to this show not somehow creating a permanent bridge between the Human and Demon Realms, but how are they gonna get there? I think the answer is in...
✨The Stars✨
One of the first things that brought this to my attention was in Reaching Out, when Luz & Amity send a flower into the sky, and it's directly paralleled by Camila's flower vase:
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Amity: Do you think they'll reach the Human Realm? Luz: Probably doesn't work that way, but... it's a nice thought, right?
Now, in Thanks to Them, we have TWO scenes where Luz literally reaches for the stars (the sun a clear reference to the Collector), MULTIPLE shots of light spells floating upwards (into the sky), Gus and Hunter discussing space travel, and the very last shot of the special itself panning up from the cemetery portal to the night sky.
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But, how DO they reach the stars? I highly doubt this show would go towards a literal space travel route. I think, obviously, the Collector is a part of it, but I think it's also a matter of someone getting high enough to reach.
Perhaps maybe.... as tall as a titan?
Clearly, there's a lot of shared history between titans and the Collector. And titans themselves have their own fair share of celestial imagery:
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(notice the titan skeleton LITERALLY BEING AS HIGH AS THE PLANETS AND ASTEROIDS)
Perhaps this is why the titans and the Collector have been at odds. Maybe, the titans could use the stars to travel, and for whatever reason, the Collector didn't like that.
And if titans can travel through the stars, it might also solve the mystery of King's mother's whereabouts.
We know the Boiling Isles titan is King's father. And the Boiling Isles is OLD. The Hecktaceous Period is a really vaguely ancient era that doesn't directly parallel one specific era on Earth, so it's hard to put a time frame on it. Either way, all life on the Boiling Isles evolved FROM the Boiling Isles, and did not exist prior.
But..... Bill saw a titan somehow? Bill isn't from the Boiling Isles, and he's old, but it seems unlikely that he's older than literally all life on the Boiling Isles. And King HEARD a titan, who roared, "son". King is about 8 years old, but we don't know how long he was in his egg before he hatched.
It SEEMS implied that "the last titan" the trappers were after was supposed to be King, but that might not necessarily be the case...
Bill: But if you think Belos is evil, you've never seen a live Titan. The children out there haven't either. [The trio looks outside the window, but Hooty notices something to his right and stretches towards that direction. Cut to the King lookalike demons cheering at him as he stands in front of a waterfall.] Bill: Don't know a thing about their ravenous appetites, or their terrible cries! Even their babies act like little monarchs. The last living Titan, I saw it once before it disappeared. Its hateful roar blew out my eardrums. How did it go? "Weh!"
Bill: [Rolls up his sleeve.] You like our disguises? [Takes off his glove to reveal a hand.] You gotta look like a Titan to trap one. [Puts on his glove back.] But if I ever find that missing Titan, I'd hunt it down, tear it limb from limb, and mount its head in pride as we release the Huntsman! Then... we can finally go from being Titan Trappers to Titan Slayers! Say, who's your buddy's tailor? His costume looks so real!
it sounds to me like there's a titan Bill saw that isn't the Boiling Isles or King.
And if you look back at the mural of the trapper fighting a titan, the titan is depicted with a longer face than what the Boiling Isles actually has. Maybe.... *that's* King's mother?
So, where did she go? The stars? But if they connect to the Human Realm, where would she be?
Funnily enough, in Connecticut (you know, the state Luz is from), there's geological structure called The Sleeping Giant.
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Just a thought.
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