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utterlyotterlyx · 7 days

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Can you do a Azriel request where Azriel exaggerating a bruise his mate got during training to be worse than it is and needing bed rest because he wants to cuddle/kiss but still hasn’t figured out how to ask for cuddles since they’ve been friends for centuries but newly accepted their mate bond?

Sparks

Summary - An injury during training with Cassian ends with Azriel fussing over you, but as always with Azriel, he has another motive.

Warnings - none really, mentions of injury, slight angst, welcome to fluff junction

If anyone would have told Azriel when he had first met you that you would end up as his mate, he would have laughed in their faces.

There were no two people as different as you and Azriel, he was a brooding thing and you were like fresh morning sunshine, opposite in every way imaginable. It also didn't help that he found your stubborn nature to be quite the nuisance.

Those feelings didn't linger long however, you had some strange ability to make those around you feel at ease, perhaps it was your charm or how your eyes sparkled whenever someone spoke to you about something important to them. It didn't take Azriel long at all to become one of the many people who sought comfort in your words, much to the delight of Rhys who always sternly told him to be nicer to you.

Azriel couldn't remember the precise moment he had met you for the first time, he was sure it had been Selene to introduce the two of you, and when she died Rhys had moved you into the River House and you had quite quickly become a pillar of the Inner Circle. Wise. Kind. Truthful.

A force to be reckoned with.

What Azriel could remember however was the moment the bond had snapped for him.

There was a special spot that you often went to when you wanted to be alone, a certain balcony that lay beyond the stained glass doors of Selene's room, a place you had used to sit with her during the night, where you'd either sit in silence and gaze at the stars, or talk about anything that you wished. Selene was your best friend, you had also lost a sister that day.

That evening, as the sun was about to draw the curtains to another performance, when the sky was painted in burnt orange and purple, did Azriel find you there. A gentle song was drifting from your lips from where you sat on a deep set chair, wrapped up in one of Selene's blankets and gazing so far away that Azriel had thought that you were peering into the past. Something about it held his attention, the way that your eyes had softened, how your hair drifted in the gentle breeze, how the sun made your eyes shine like rare diamonds and the way you held yourself for comfort.

It had snapped when he had mistakenly made a noise, being too entranced by you to be careful about where he was stepping, and you had turned your head to see who was in Selene's space with you. The sun was causing you to glow, it hugged the side of your face, and the way you had whispered his name made his entire world spin.

The bond hadn't snapped for you though, you had simply asked him what he was doing and if he wanted to join you. Which he did without hesitation. That night you had both talked through the hours, too entwined with one another to realise the sun peeking through the horizon to welcome another day.

Months had passed and you still had no idea about the bond, and unfortunately it had snapped for you at the worst possible time. When Azriel had been slung over Rhys' shoulder, badly injured, and you had rushed into the room to help Madja only to feel an onslaught of pain the moment the bond blossomed and connected your souls together.

A single look was all Azriel needed to know that it had snapped, the wide eyes of terror and worry and the drifting fingers over the skin where your heart lay.

I'm going to kick your ass for this when you can stand.

Tears had brimmed in your eyes the moment he had laughed at your quip, and then winced from the pain. You had fell to his side, running your fingers through his matted hair, telling him that you weren't going anywhere whilst Madja put him back together.

Azriel had woken in his bed to you curled into his side with your arm flung over his torso, and as soon as he moved an inch, you were awake and alert asking him if he needed anything to which he said he only needed you.

Ever since you'd been rather inseparable.

So when Azriel had felt that jolt of pain throbbing at his shoulder and the emotions to go along with it, he had taken off running to the House of Wind, leaving a rather bewildered Feyre alone in the bakery with bags of pastries that he was meant to bring back to you to halt your incessant begging for them.

Landing at the House of Wind, his shadows whispered to him where you were and he took off in that direction, following the trails of your scent before walking into the brick wall known as Rhys, "Where is she? What happened?"

Rhys lay a consoling hand on his shoulder, the same one that was throbbing and twisting with discomfort, "She's fine, Az," Rhys told him, his violet gaze burning into the Shadowsinger to make sure that he understood. Azriel loosened a breath and waited for Rhys to continue despite the itching need to find you, "She was training with Cassian, he was a bit rough with her and dislocated her shoulder. Madja is with her now."

As if on cue, a soft groan emitted from down the hall and Azriel moved around Rhys to follow it, peering into each room along the way until his eyes landed on you.

Sweat coated your brow, you had tugged your bottom lip between your teeth to stop your whimpering as Madja held your arm in her hands. A low growl rumbled in his chest, his sight moved to Cassian at your side who looked at him with wide eyes, "Az, I didn't mean to hurt her," Cassian knew how protective Azriel was of you, and since the bond had been newly requited, Cassian also knew how much Azriel was dying to tear him apart in that moment.

To Azriel, Cassian was not his friend in that moment, he was the one who had hurt his mate, his reason for living, and it was making him seethe.

"Az?" A weak voice called to him and Cassian stepped aside to display you fully to him, "It's my fault, I thought I could take a bit more force."

The shadows darted from his shoulders, soaring through the air to pepper your face with comfort and love, slithering through your hair and floating atop your injured shoulder.

Cassian scratched the back of his neck, "I did body slam you into the ground, y/n."

"You body slammed her into the ground?"

Closing your eyes and inhaling deeply, you then glanced to Cassian, face deadpan and stoic, "I'm trying to save your ass from a beating here, Cass."

"Right, I'll just go. You've got it from here, Az?"

A stupid question.

Azriel's burning gaze didn't move from Cassian as he slipped from the room, then all of his attention fell onto you. The Shadowsinger knelt at your side, brushing his thumb over your cheek where the skin had been stained from your tears, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," you strained, "It's just uncomfortable. You came at the perfect time, Madja was just about to pop it back in," you said with a nervous smile directed to the healer who was paying little notice to the two of you.

Unease and nerves flew down the bond and Azriel clasped your fingers around his, "Squeeze it as hard as you need to. I can take it."

"I thought I could too," you grinned and shuffled into an upright position, bracing yourself against his body and gulping down deep breaths, "I'm sorry if I scared you."

With the bond being so new with so much to be explored, Azriel wasn't sure of what you needed. Sure, he had taken care of you during your cycle, he knew that you were affectionate and loved to be held, but it was always you that crawled onto his lap and wrapped your arms around him whenever you needed some contact. Azriel was a touch-starved thing, and he didn't know how to ask for your affection because he was so used to not having any at all and was afraid that you'd deny him.

Now he had the perfect excuse.

Once Madja had twisted your shoulder back into place, an action that made you yelp and groan to the point Azriel had felt his blood boil when looking to the healer, she wrapped it up in a sling and advised that you be on bed rest until it had fully set and healed, which would only take a couple of days.

"Can I take her home?" Madja rolled her eyes playfully and uttered her approval, and Azriel wasted no time in scooping you into his arms, smirking at your glare, "Madja said to rest, so no walking for you."

"My legs don't hurt, Az."

"I don't care," you shouldn't have been complaining really, it was nice to be the one being held for a change, and it was nice that Azriel had made the move to touch you.

It wasn't like you never cuddled or spent days in bed with one another, you had spent many days in his bed with your limbs entwined with his lips searching every single inch of your skin. But when it came to simple acts of affection, Azriel was lost, and it was obvious that he didn't know how to show affection outside of the bedroom.

Landing at the River House, you pleaded with Azriel to put you down, assuring him that you could walk on your own, but he refused, and continued to refuse you as he carried you through the house and up the stairs which led to your shared bedroom.

It was Azriel's really, but he put up quite a fuss after the bond had snapped and you had little choice in the matter. Azriel did have the largest and comfiest bed, confirmed after you had tested every single bed in the house before coming to the conclusion, and all you did was bring your feminine flair to the space and your copious amount of clothes.

Azriel placed you on the edge of the bed, pressing his lips to yours and mumbling, "I'll be right back," he left your lips needing more and you watched him retreat to the bathroom, a squeak of the taps and rushing water sounded and you shuddered with happiness when Azriel reappeared, "Let's get you out of these clothes," clothes that were sweaty and dusted with dirt from the training grounds.

Working carefully, Azriel helped you out of your leathers, he gently lifted the shirt around your injured shoulder and aided you in stepping out of your pants, folding them neatly on the ottoman at the foot of the bed.

The water was the perfect temperature for you and your body disappeared under the bubbles as Azriel lowered you into the tub, stripping his own clothes from his body and stepping in to nestle into the spot behind you and sliding his arms around you, resting your head against his chest and rubbing circles into your skin.

Wincing, you angled yourself, and you weren't able to stop the laugh spurting from your lips when Azriel said, "I'm going to make Cassian cry tomorrow," you sat upright and peered over your shoulder at him.

Azriel didn't meet your eyes, instead he was focusing on his fingers playing with the ends of your dampened hair; his bare chest glistened in the light, his muscles contorted with tense anger, and his jaw ticked. He welcomed the new position you created, wrapping your legs around his torso and pressing your chest up against his; bubbles swarmed around you and you sighed with content when his fingers ran through your hair and down your spine, when his lips peppered along your collarbone.

"What if I need you with me tomorrow?" Azriel straightened, eagerly, and leaned into you, his hands falling on the small of your back, "To take care of me?"

Those hazel orbs brightened, "I'll do whatever you need me to do," a new bond or not, you knew that there was nothing that Azriel wouldn't do for you, "I'll glue myself to you if that will make you feel better."

Through giggles you spoke, "As lovely as that sounds, Az," you brushed a strand of hair from his eyes, "Being in your arms is where I want to be, more for you if anything."

Azriel frowned, "What do you mean?"

"You've been awfully touchy today."

Sitting up a little straighter, "You're hurt," you quirked a brow and he knew from the gentle smirk on your lips that you knew full well what he was doing, and he cracked under the pressure, "Maybe I just wanted an excuse to dote on you a little bit."

Bingo.

Leaning closer to him, being careful of your shoulder, you hovered just in front of his face, noses almost touching, "You don't need an excuse to dote on me, Az. I know it's difficult for you to show affection, but you'll get used to it. If you ever want to kiss me or hold my hand or cuddle me, just do it, you never need to-"

Azriel cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, it was something he had done countless times before, but it felt different, like he was finally embracing the bond enough to stop hiding his love for you. Fingers at the back of your neck, Azriel smirked against your lips, at the fact you hadn't released a breath yet, and then pulled away, "Like that?"

"Yeah, just like that," your voice was a hush above a whisper, "Do more of that."

Grinning, Azriel purred, "Yeah?"

"Mhm," you nodded eagerly, wondering how in the world your mate was so perfect and alluring.

If Selene could see you now, happily mated to Azriel the Shadowsinger, ready to embark on the wild ride of life... you were sure she would have been thrilled about it actually.

Noticing your mind wander, Azriel cupped your cheek, "Where have you gone?"

It's what he always asked when your mind drifted elsewhere, you had told him it was never just a thought, but an image, a memory, so he had stopped asking what you were thinking about but rather where you had gone to.

"To Selene," he pulled you closer to him, running his thumb across your lips, "Do you think she would have been happy about us?"

"Are you happy?" Connecting your eyes, you nodded, softly, "Then yes, she would have been very happy. It was all she ever wanted for you, an all-consuming love and a life of happiness."

The inevitable day of your mating ceremony was bound to happen in the coming months, and whilst you were excited for it and everything that it meant for you and Azriel, the thought of it saddened you, because the one person you had grown up with speaking of marriage and children at least once a week was no longer by your side.

"Do you know how much I love you?"

Azriel had always been good at pulling you from your thoughts, you focused on him, the love of your life, and replied, "I think so, but it wouldn't hurt to hear it again."

After throwing his head back to the edge of the tub with laughter, he settled, "I swear that I couldn't love you more than I do right now, but I know that I will tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. My love for you will never stop growing." Azriel held your face in his hands, stroking the hair from your face, "The sky has nothing on you, my love, you surround my world. You are my world."

Tendrils of shadow moved from his shoulders, peeping over them, flowing down his body into the water and spreading across your thighs. You rested your forehead against his, "You are my home, Az."

With a gentle kiss, Azriel lifted you from the tub, he wrapped a towel around your body and helped you into one of his shirts that engulfed you in the scent of him, and he waited, he waited for you to clamber into the bed and get comfortable before he found his place beside you. Like he would everyday for the rest of his life.

Authors Note

Bath time Az is just ughhhhhhhh

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afewfantasies · 1 month

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🗡️ꜰᴇʏᴅ'ꜱ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ 🗡️ - VII - KARMA

MASTERLIST

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.5K

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd Rautha X Reader

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Feyd-Rautha gets a bitter taste of his own medicine. His arrival on Arrakis is not all he hoped it would be with his lady. He learns she is far more than meets the eye and his desire for her is only heightened by her newfound agency. Feyd doesnt mind playing by her rules, so long as he gets lucky.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: NSFW, minors do not engage, sexually explicit content and violence.

The black and white hues of Giedi Prime blur as you sit in your chambers. Your chest rises and falls as people bustle around you. Pale women and men without hair dressed in black work efficiently to ride your chambers of every single personal touch you’ve placed within. White noise plays in your mind as the events of your time here blur together. Sadness has turned into anger, and belonging into loneliness. It leaves you in a gray haze. Beyond the palace cisterns of water are loaded on to industrial ships, as well as several months worth of excessive provisions for Arrakis. You can't help but wonder if your new home will bring happiness and stability. If you and Feyd will reconcile, if things will get better. You hear the whispers. The Fremen lore is so powerful it seems to scare the terrifying brutal people of Giedi Prime. It’s a fact that seems ironic to you. Feyd will have his work cut out for him, knowing how much he enjoys bloodsports you have little hope that he’ll have time for you. Honestly, you're not even sure of what you want from him. A throat clears pulling you from your daze. Feyd’s attendant holds a silver platter with a scroll on it. Instead of speaking you give him a bored look.

“From the na-Baron” he says, only your heart doesn’t flutter like it should.

Taking the scroll you read it out of mercy. Uncrossing your legs you lift yourself off the dining room table and step down into the sunken living room, then back up to the main doors. Feyd has requested your presence. A pod awaits and you enter before his attendants can help you in. You’re still angry at him. Livid actually. There are no flutters of anticipation as you speed through the corridors. It takes several minutes before you arrive at a foreign wing of the palace. You're escorted into an elevator that ascends just as fast and as violent as all the others. Your heart begins to race a little, your senses become acute. You feel like a rat in a trap when the attendants stop following you into the dimly lit room. You tense hoping your abilities can be of service but a bright light can be seen in the distance. You try to listen for the sound of the Baron’s suspension device and cringe in anticipation of his scent - only it doesn’t come. The air becomes light, with each step you find yourself breathing easier, the air is cool and light. As you get closer you see rich green foliage that goes against everything you’ve ever learned about the industrial planet. Looking around you make note of the rich plant life, several of which produce deadly poisons but are beautiful nonetheless. Feyd materializes dressed in his regalia, a long floor length tunic that accentuates his shoulders and striking features. His full lips stretch into a smirk. Once you’ve entered the strange room you see a table has been set elegantly.

Feyd-Rautha steps into your personal space and in spite of the magnetic chemistry between you, you step back. He catches you at your waist, not allowing you to move any further. Swallowing you refuse to cower and look at him with defiance. Flowers and a nice breakfast don’t begin to account for the pain he’s caused you. It’s like he reads your thoughts and lets you go. Feyd steps back swallowing, shame flashes across his expression in vulnerability as he tries to understand your cold reaction to his gesture. He’d never put as much thought or time into anything for anyone before.

“Na-Baron, you requested my presence” you speak and Feyd cuts his eyes at you.

“Breakfast” he says, omitting the truth that he’d gotten only a few hours of tortured sleep and felt convicted enough to seek redemption for his actions.

“I don’t have an appetite, thank you” you smile politely but Feyd knows well enough it’s insincere. He cannot feel the energy that usually accompanies the gesture.

“Should I call a physician?” Feyd asks.

“No need, I’ve had my prognosis” you comment looking at his rare meat. The iron rich scent still makes you a little queasy. More-so, now that you're upset with the na-baron.

“I was not made aware of any assessments” Feyd comments.

“I’m sick of this planet and the people on it.” You speak recklessly. Surprise covers Feyd’s expression. You’d ever been so uncouth or cold towards him. He watches you turn, giving him your ass to kiss. He’d have anyone else strung up for such insolence. He watches the swish of your step as you sashay away. It was a declaration of war, a death wish, a slight against people who would undoubtedly become yours in due time. Feyd-Rautha had never chased anything in all his years; he hunted, he stalked, he tracked. He was the predator and whatever he had set his sights upon was prey. Swallowing his pride he pursues you widening his stride. It only takes him moments to be at your side, your angry eyes slicing him with a gaze that levels him. He’d never seen anything like it.

“My Lady” he rasps, stopping you.

“My Lord?” You respond indignantly.

You radiate a defiance unlike anything Feyd had never encountered. Indignity and a disregard for your own well being. There’d never been any guideline on how to handle you beyond his feelings and intuition. If his socialization would have it, he would have you begging for death in an hour. The mere thought of such harsh punishment has him shudder stepping back. He’d been conditioned to respond to disrespect and defiance with brutality.

“What is your issue?” He snaps grabbing your hand.

“There are no crowds, I am not required to perform” you snap. Clenching his jaw he lets your hand go.

“Is that all they teach at the academy, how to twist a person's words against them?” He snaps.

“If you don't like your own words then maybe you should think before you speak!” you snap back.

“Mind your temper, mind our child” he snaps looking at your stomach.Swallowing you fight everything in yourself to withhold tears.

“Lets not go tit for tat Feyd, I will be on the ship, I will play the part that’s expected of me” you respond. He says nothing more as you approach the pod.

“Out” Feyd growls at the drivers, they disperse and you allow Feyd to get to your door. You don’t thank him for getting in and he drives to the docks. You relax in the passenger seat and he steals glances slightly impressed with your anger. He wants nothing more than to touch you, to lay hands on your stomach but he doesn't want to add to your newfound rage.

“Guess I should be happy you feel safe enough to behave this terribly without fear” he comments. “It means you know I love you” Feyd says instead.

“You just don’t treat me like it” you respond and he makes a frustrated sound.

“Enough” he warns and you roll your eyes at him. The gesture is so flagrant he nearly loses control of the pod.

“Not even close” you respond as the vehicle comes to a stop. Leia is standing with your other staff. You get out on your own as you hear the drums begin for his unmistakable score. Turning back to him you cast him a final look as the crowd begins their chant.

“Feyd-Rautha

Feyd-Rautha

Feyd-Rautha”

Nothing else needs to be said. So you make your way onto the ship feeling his eyes on you the entire way in. Your heart races feeling exhilarated. You feel powerful, you feel like you have agency for the first time in very long.

Petty squabbles have never been your thing, since childhood you’d been keen to let things go easily. Time with the ones we love is fleeting and no one knows that more than you. Still, you find yourself resentful of what transpired. Your desire was not to throw caution to the wind, or to openly defy the Baron. Your thoughts had been with Feyd, your actions born out of love and fear for his well being. You had no desire to delve further into the spider's web, and yet the Baron still had you trapped. You just wanted the days and nights to return to what they once were. With Feyd’s insatiable appetite for you being at the forefront of his mind. You wanted to feed his physical desire for you, to satisfy him, to make his days easier. To ensure his cuts and bruises were on the mend to ensure the father of the child quickening in your womb was alright. His response to your love and care could not be so easily forgiven, no matter how hard you tried.

“You must take your leave of me when we arrive in Arrakis. Take time for yourself, make friends, find someone” you smile. Your plight had become hers with a few exceptions. Leia reaches for your hand resting her head against yours as she scoots beside you.

“We’re sisters, I will never desert you.” She promises and you smile.

“We’re sisters, I will never rob you of your ambition or personal desires” you retort.

“Now that you’ve had a taste of love my company is not enough?” She smiles, taking you in a hug.

“It’s just a different yearning” you disagree. “If things weren’t so bad I could feel good. I could handle the distance but I’m so angry with him and I know nothing is promised but Leia, I am seething” you confess closing your eyes.

“You ought to be angry with him, going up to the Baron you were risking your life as much as he was and we know nothing of mindless customs. You meant no harm and he knows your heart is pure” Leia says and you smile at her for her alliance.

“Exactly” you nod.

“Feyd-Rautha is not known for being a rational or sensible man. His treatment of you is ill advised but for what he’s capable of, I don’t think anyone can deny there’s love there. No physical harm has come to you” Leia defends and you roll your eyes at her sensibility. You’d knowingly fallen for a monster, what could you expect. He hadn’t been a kind, gentleman. He was a killer, a brutal man prone to torture and treachery. He’d taken your maidenhead before marriage, he kept humanoid creatures as pets, the list of misdeeds were neverending, still you couldn't deny the love there.

“If what I’ve done is unforgivable then why not do away with me? Give me a tea to end the pregnancy and return me to the academy?” You ask not understanding the harshness of Feyd’s shunning. Feyd stops in the doorway, his acute sense of hearing trained to your discussion. Do away with you? Terminate the pregnancy and send you back to the academy? Had you listened to anything he’d said or paid attention to any of his actions? Anger surges through him again and he turns away heading to his own chambers. The thought of losing you too much, the thought of anyone else having you was too much. It was why he’d been upset in the first place. Your submission to his uncle. He was supposed to be the only man to bring you to your knees. You were never supposed to subject yourself, him, or an unborn child to that. He thought having you would end the obsessive thoughts, cool the fire within him, satiate his insatiable need but it had done the opposite. Therein lies the problem. Feyd-Rautha had never been able to control himself or hold back in any scenarios. Open defiance like what you had shown was a new concept for him. Other women would have never. Other women wouldn’t have survived it. It wasn’t so much that your acts were unforgivable, Feyd could never hate you long term but he had hated you in those few moments, he’d hated the image, what it represented.

Unsheathing one of his short blades, Feyd twists it into the table top as he ponders his next steps. He balances it on its point and then balances the blade rolling it between his fingers without cutting himself. Rising he turns to the cork wall in his chambers pulling out a drawer. Right now the board would be a sit in for the Baron. With each throw, blade after blade nicks the Baron. In Feyd’s mind, he’d sliced the shield off his uncle's finger before it could be activated. Then he’d began slicing and carving up the man that had his na-baroness questioning the love he bore her. Feyd holds nothing back, letting it all out. His guards tremble at the door mistaking his plan of vengeance from a foul mood.

“Na-Baron, we will be descending in half an hour” the attendant trembles, snapping him out of his dazed state. Feyd wanted nothing more than to drag you into the bathing chamber and place soap and a scrubber in your hands. He wouldn’t say a word, you’d have to figure out what he wanted. He would make you clean every inch of him thoroughly as he watched. Your anger and the charged energy between you both add to your electricity and the danger of it all. He could feel it now as he stepped into the shower, your soft hands running soap along his chest, the admiration for his form in your eyes always did something to him. He hoped anger would never change that. Top to bottom, he would guide you to your knees only to have you test your own work. He would guide his already hard manhood into your mouth. He’d speak for the first time asking you if it’s clean as he pushes it in so far you gag needing reprieve. He’d use your defiance against you, it would be the perfect recipe for a violent orgasm. He’d pinch one of your nipples to further his cruelty as you tried to undo him with your mouth. He’d grab a handful of your hair for leverage, he’d lie and tell you it was the worst blowjob he’d ever received through closed eyes and gritted teeth. It would incense you, he knows it would, but you won’t get up and walk away, you’d somehow get even better rising to the occasion. The hatred for him in your eyes fuelling his desire for you. Your eyes looking back at him as you draw in your cheeks adding more suction. When he was close he’d push you away by the throat to avoid the defeat of coming everywhere. He couldn’t grant you that victory with those defiant eyes. He could picture you turning to walk away upset and seeming unbothered and that’s when he would crack. His heart would race as he swiped two fingers at your folds, closing his eyes with pride when he felt your honey oozing for him. He’d put his dick where it belonged, burying it deep within you. He’d be undone by all the angry tension leaving your face and body as you re-acclimate to him. He’d steady you in the slippery bathing chambers thrusting hard. It would be quick, it’d been too long. He’d have your back against the chamber walls pressing his weight into you as he empties his arousal into you. He’d leave himself in, still hard and ready for more. That first kiss would be his apology, he’d get lost in it. There wouldn’t need to be any words as he looked into your eyes dispelling any concerns about the status of his desire for you. Disconnecting would be a task but it would be his turn to wash you up. The people of Arrakis would have to wait for the na-baron and his intended to dismount from the ship. He’d take your hand keeping you at his side so the people knew they had to answer to the both of you. On Arrakis you would be equals. He would teach you to keep your head held high. He’d take his time making love to you a few more times that afternoon before going on his first raids.

Opening his eyes Feyd releases a firm grip from his manhood. The mere fantasy of you is far more powerful than the prospect of another woman. Ridding himself of his mess, he leaves the bathing chambers getting on his garments and then his armor. Unlike most he needed to cover himself under the powerful Arrakeen sun. You hear Feyd's strong stride before you see him. Turning you see the na-baron, he has the flush he has after he’s made love to you. Your heart skips, your stomach falls and you feel loss - he’d been with someone. Frowning you swallow the sting of his infidelity bowing to him in the company of the huge procession traveling with you.

The bay doors descend slowly to a flurry of whispers and celebration sounds. The heat is strong, your robes blow slightly in the ever so slight breeze that seems to bring more heat than reprieve. Taking Leia’s had you step forward seeing the crowds. You go to take the discreet way onto the palatial grounds with the staff. Trying to remain calm in the face of the people about Feyd’s disloyalty. You look out at the hooded people and begin stepping down like the rest of the procession. A firm hand takes your wrist. Feyd looks down at you. His face is somewhat obstructed by a face shield contraption. Leia stops letting go when she sees Feyd’s hand around your wrist. To both of their surprise you snatch your wrist out of his grasp heading to follow the entourage. Feyd stands shocked allowing you to make several determined steps away before grabbing you by the arm this time. He presses the shield on his face making the screen go away.

“Walk” he commands tilting his head in the direction of the people. Blind rage has you angry enough to openly defy him once more.

“Go with him” Leia says telepathically. Swallowing your anger you adjust your robes and jewelry before turning to face Feyd. He holds a hand out for you to take it. You're so disgusted by his betrayal you cannot. Disgruntled Feyd grabs your hand before striding down the opening ship for onlookers. The reception is mixed, people shout different things, all respectful as far as you reckon. The strength of the sun mixed with the fire kindling in you is a dangerous combination.

“What’s the matter with you?” Feyd asks once you’ve completed the long walk into the palace.

“You don’t care” you grit. As the doors are closed behind you. Looking up you see the brown stone walls all around you. The attendants and staff are already more promising, not all of them are hairless and stark. Their eyes are warm and though there may be treachery in them you don’t foresee the same imminent danger as in Giedi Prime.

“Disperse!” Feyd roars, dragging you into a room as people scatter. He closes the door behind you and you turn, shoving him back reaching for the door as he holds it shut above you. Turning your back is against the wall, Feyd stands over you with his hand pressed against the door above your head. He doesn’t know whether to be turned on or murderous about your disrespect. Somehow your angry eyes are just as beautiful as your happy ones. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you stare back at him the tension thick between you.

“What?” You snap, stomping.

“It must be the child that has you in this way!” He snaps with a clenched jaw.

“You were with someone on the ship here. Don’t lie to me, I know I can see it in your eyes, in your stance. Go to her and leave me be” you snap, turning to the door but there’s no knob and your strength isn’t a match for Feyd’s. When you turn he wears a smirk, losing it you shove him back for mocking you further. Chuckling he lets you take a few determined steps away.

“There’s one exit” he says, having you trapped. He undoes his armor and you wish you were strong enough to hurt him.

“There was no one else, no one else just visions of you and my hand” Feyd says, stopping you in your tracks. You stare at him, he’d never been a liar thus far and had no reason to lie but… taking a deep breath you pause trying to sense if it's the truth or not.

“I’ve already explained I need your love, I don’t do substitutions” Feyd-Rautha says and his tone does not waiver. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment over your behavior. You curse yourself for the colorful display and rush for the door. Your shoes make noise on the stone floor, the halls are deserted, you just follow the path until Feyd’s steps sound behind yours. When you reach the edge of the hall a few people look relieved to see you alive, Leia chief among them.

“Anything the lady wants” Feyd speaks before turning in the direction of his war council. The sooner he could eradicate the Fremen rebellion the sooner he could tend to the woman he found himself thinking the gods had fashioned just for him. The crazy outburst stroking new flames within him. Going against his better judgment Feyd follows you into your chambers and the staff clears out. You turn to face him. He must think you’re a weak minded, stupid, lovesick, silly woman. The smirk on his face tells you he’s enjoying every moment of this.

“Kneel” you tell him telepathically. You can feel resistance as he tries to decipher what’s happening to him. Feyd-Rautha falls to his knees. His eyes are on yours as you close the distance between you. “I may have been on my knees but I never begged” you say once again, your words leave your mind floating into his. You see comprehension in his eyes when he realizes your mouth hasn't moved. “It was never submission and if you opened your thick head and let me be there for you, you would know that! And then we wouldn’t be at odds and you wouldn’t have to have used your hand today. I would’ve been happy to show my appreciation to you and to walk at your side. Now I want you gone from my sight.” Your message is conveyed. Feyd goes to speak, “Silence” you declare and his lips close. “Stand and leave now, tend to your spice, finish your raid, leave me be” you add, turning away from him again. You can feel the resistance but ultimately in this area you are stronger than Feyd-Rautha. He says nothing, getting on his feet and leaving.

Deep admiration for you swells within him, at your strength, power and prowess. He’d been right about the gods.

———

Feyd-Rautha’s ability to focus is what set him apart from his brother. Unlike Rabanne he made everything coordinated on live feeds. There would be an overwhelming use of force in sync, giving the Fremen little time to react. He’d been tracking their movements and instead of wasting manpower he would use firepower to do as much damage as possible. He feared no one while out in the desert, unlike most he would not tire or dehydrate so fast. He’d withstood trials in extreme heat before and practiced fighting in the sand. Looking at the triangulation on the live map he uses the heat cameras to ensure the areas are as populated as was reported before callously pressing the buttons. Watching from the safety of his ship he sees all of the attacks have been successful. All possible entrances were destroyed. He has his reserve force evacuate the known alternate refuges. He’d had the doors re-wired to open allowing a large number of people inside before closing. Then those inside would be eviscerated in moments. The remaining living Fremen would be more desperate to crack, more pliable or more radical. Either way, there would be value in turning those few survivors. It would be consolation for all the restraint he required to deal with you. The success of his mission yields happy thoughts. Relaxing in his seat he considers his actions. In his preparation for Arrakis he had underestimated you greatly.

Like one of his knives, the more beautiful the more deadly - the same was to be said for you. Your beautiful eyes were more piercing than a sword, looking as innocent as they do while yielding the ability to rob a man of his free will without a word. If it hadn't been for your blood within Feyd he never would have known it was you, as the sound of the voice in his head was his own. He felt the urge to kneel and do everything else you declared. Unlike with the late Bene Gesserit whose voice felt like a demand. The sound of shots being fired from the ship gets his attention as Fremen leaving the caves are killed.

“Should we go down and take hostages?” One of his men asks.

“No” Feyd says, not willing to risk his trip back home to you.

After a long day of fighting and bloodshed Feyd is satisfied by how things have gone. He could place harvesters down but he didn’t want to lose any others. He wouldn't risk it. He had better alternatives. Unlike his brother Feyd could take his time, there was no need for great haste just success.

“Reports of my betrothed?” He asks.

“She has had her lunch and dinner. She and her ladies went out into the night markets to give the excess to the people, specifically the children. She was advised against it but - she did as she wished.” The Mentat says. Feyd knows the creature's allegiance is to the Baron.

“If my betrothed requires advice I’m sure she will request it” Feys responds on your behalf.

“My lord it is unsafe and ill advised” the Mentat says. Feyd is no fool; he knows the objective of your exploration is undoubtedly to cause him grief but that frustration would be his and no one else’s. He slices the creature's throat without another thought and settles into his seat as the blood pools. Attendants carry the body out and silence falls on the ship.

Back on at the palace you feel far more settled and stable after a night enjoying the people and culture of Arrakis. It’s been so long since you’ve experienced any semblance of normalcy being at the academy and then on Giedi Prime. Your father had been a kind ruler and you hoped to be the same. Arrakeen mothers had been reluctant at first but then they’d come willingly. The kids had smiled as they ate things they’d never tried before, melons and other fruits not native to the desert. The party only grew in size as the people came to celebrate your kindness and arrival. You danced and laughed with Leia feeling as though you could breathe for the first time in so long. The blue eyed people sprinkled into the crowds brought you back to your visions but none looked like that woman watching you in a still suit. You return to your chambers with jewelry, silks and perfumes. Leia retires before you’re ready for sleep. You sit in the windowsill looking out into the nights shadows. You sense Feyd before you hear his soft steps. When you turn he’s in his night clothes, ready for bed. Unfortunately the technology in Arrakis is more analog and so keeping him out will take time. You’re happy he’s back safe, in spite of everything.

You want nothing more than to sit in his lap and melt into his arms. But, Feyd-Rautha has taught you much of the pride a na-baroness is supposed to have. The emotional control required of you, the constant calculation and maneuvering is exhausting.

“Come to bed” he commands, unwilling to submit.

“Where are your quarters?” You ask and Feyd looks around. Frowning you raise an eyebrow. “It’s against custom, we’ve yet to marry” you remind him.

“You’ve chosen these rooms, there is no suitable room close enough to suit my needs” Feyd explains.

“Well as much as custom is important to you it is to me and I’d like you to take your leave” you comment taking the steps down from the window. Feyd smirks knowing he deserves your pettiness.

“Customs rooted in the opinions of others have no bearing on our relationship” Feyd says without humor.

“Since when?” you ask

“New place, new start” he declares conveniently.

“Why do you get the final say?” You ask as he closes in on you. Holding an arm out you keep him at arm's length. His eyes are on yours as he kisses the inside of your wrist. “Want to make it right?” You ask and he nods. “Sleep in your quarters, leave me be tonight” you tell him, getting a guttural growl in response.

“No” he steps in and you step back.

“Yes. Then tomorrow; new place, new start” you respond, maintaining the distance. Feyds features harden; he steps forward again and you step back. It’s a battle of wills you're well aware Feyd could overpower you and your abilities only seemed to take when you were experiencing extremely heightened negative emotions. If Feyd pushed hard enough you’d crack wanting him as much as he wants you especially after this morning.

“Fine,” he agrees. Smiling you let your hand down, frustrated he turns away annoyed at your excitement. He takes a few steps down heading to the door without a goodnight.

“Feyd?” you call and he turns. “What was I doing in your fantasy on the ship?” You tease, his frown turns to a smile and he shakes his head heading to the door.

“I was giving you the hard fucking I should’ve started with” he says with his back to you. Turning to face you he assesses your pensive reaction. Shrugging you turn your back to him heading back up to the window.

“Maybe you can work on earning those privileges” you comment and he smiles shaking his head, he’d make you eat your words.

“Goodnight my love” he rasps.

“Good night na-Baron” you respond and he stops giving you another look. He gives you the opportunity to bid him the proper farewell and when it doesn’t come he strides to you up the stairs. Your heart races as his eyes fall to your lips instead he stinks down to a squat pulling you to him. He places a kiss on your stomach.

“Your father Feyd-Rautha loves you dearly, so I’ll let your mother have her way this night. I want you to be strong and healthy” Feyd says before standing. It’s high-level manipulation. You both know it as you melt. Feyd has never been known to play fair.

“Love you” he says again before leaving. You feel goosebumps pepper your skin. You lock the door behind him after palming your stomach. You step slowly back to your bedroom. Once in his quarters nearly five minutes away Feyd sits on his bed. It had been a foolish bit of architecture, clearly the previous occupants hadn’t loved each other, what other reason was there for such impracticality. He would have that rectified the moment the spice was flowing again. Turning on his screen he looks in on you. His eyes gape at the sight. There you are in a red and gold set that makes you look ethereal, wilder than any dream or fantasy his mind could ever conjure.

You had purchased a new wardrobe from the market. Undergarments and clothing said to stoke passion and desire from your lover. Something about the racy garments brought your thoughts to Feyd. It was supposed to be a surprise for your reconciliation but playing as dirty as he was now would have to do. Knowing his voyeuristic tendencies you put it on quickly before he could get into his room. You picture the lust in his eyes as he sees you on screen. The bra fits your breasts so well, the new volume of them confirming your pregnancy to him, as did the new curve of your hips. Barely visible changes to anyone else, but Feyd studied every inch of your figure. He watches as your hands hover over all the parts of you he loves so much. Untying the short red sarong of sorts he sees a small undergarment that covers hardly anything. Nothing similar could be found on Giedi Prime and he’d brought nothing of the sort from the academy. Arching your back you continue your striptease emboldened by Feyd’s own manipulation. You drag your hands up your behind the way Feyd does. You can feel his eyes on you as you pad to the bathing chambers. It's not as technical as the self cleaning mechanisms of Giedi but it will do. You part with your top before your bottoms baring it all unabashedly for Feyd your skin heating from the thrill of your seduction. You stand under the stream of water in view of the camera, facing him. You glisten, radiating confidence and seduction. He should be in there with you making his reverie come true. It’s a great miracle he remains seated growing painfully hard as he watches you wash up. He wanted to know you as intimately as you know yourself again. It should be his hands on you and yours on him. How could he ever be so stupid to risk you? Only you would be so crazy, so daring to push him so close to the edge. Freeing himself of his pants he uses his early arousal for slip.

You put on a show for him knowing he needs it, knowing he’s watching. Adjusting yourself to the cameras you make sure he has the perfect view. Stepping from the shower to the air dryer you pad naked to your closet and pick out a sheer sleep set. Feyd can hardly stand not being able to touch you, he would let you be this once. Turning you lean against the intercom knowing it goes to him first looking at the camera he feels like your eyes meet his and he freezes mid stroke. Your eyes seem to be looking through him, your smirk all knowing as it curls into a smile. His breathing slows as you look to him coyly.

“White or lilac?” You ask looking up at the camera shattering his secret. His heart begins to race as it registers. The act had not been innocent but all for him. A tantalizing seduction you were taunting him with what was his and he yet he couldn't have.

“You're a bad bad bad na-baroness” he responds his voice is so guttural you know he’s pleasuring himself. Relaxing you smile nodding.

“So you’d better be a very good na-baron, going forward” you respond.

“Lilac your grace” he says and you dress slowly for him. “You don’t know what-”

You cut him off by pressing the button to chip him out, “Shows over Feyd-Rautha, sleep well my love” You say cutting off the light to leave him high and dry. As much as you want him you stand your ground as he had stood his. Smiling Feyd only feels arousal. It takes no time at all to finish himself off. His attraction to you was becoming dangerous, at this rate he would never stop having children. He would need you every night, sometimes multiple times a day. You were teaching him so much about partnership, showing him grace where he’d shown you pride and immaturity. You had never asked him for change, you’d never asked him for anything really. He felt the shame of his actions, he was going to be a father soon and the only place he should be is beside you in bed. It had been his plan for Arrakis. Feyd vows that it will be different come morning, he would hire the seamstresses to make multiples. He would begin the wedding preparations without the Baron’s consent. He would be the best lover and father. He would erase all ambiguity showing his love with the same unbridled abandon he showed his wrath.

The heated air rouses Feyd from an uncomfortable night's sleep. Coming to his senses slowly, you're the first thing on his mind. Checking the tablet he doesn’t see you in your chambers. Frowning as he stood there was no time to set up any other parts with such high tech cameras. He freshens up before dressing in his typical attire attaching his blade belt. Order would need to be maintained and fear would be his best motivator. Pushing open his bedroom door there’s no sign of movement. Looking around he heads to your quarters and stops at the scent of fresh blood. Running he sees dead guards littered all around the vicinity. Rushing to your door he finds evidence of forced entry and pushes it open to find the room he’d seen on the screen, there were no signs of struggle. Heading to your bedside as your heart races he sees the lilac set has been discarded.

Leia comes to mind. He rushes over to her quarters and finds her tied up and gagged. Her tears weaken Feyds knees and he stumbles back into the wall. Taking the blade he cuts the bonds.

“They came looking for you, I heard footsteps but I couldn’t get to her in time. We were communicating telepathically, and I was about to get help when men came in and did this” she explains fast with tears in her eyes. Feyd has the urge to end her life but he already had enough to apologize to you for.

“Was she hurt?”

“No, there was a bag over her head. They were asking her for you” Leia explains. It’s the challenge of Feyd’s life. Pushing through he heads to the control center only to find all the surveillance systems down and workers dead. It had been an inside job. Grabbing a tablet he goes into your room's cameras rewinding the footage. You’re seconds away from pressing the intercom when they come in with guns pointed at you and his unborn.

“Where is the Harkonnen scum?” you’re asked as you raise your hand in surrender. The guards repeat themselves and you go to scream only to have a black bag put over your head to silence you. They declare they’re taking you for questioning. The men leave and three women stand around you ransacking your closet. Feyd watches as they strip you, dressing you and then putting a still suit over your garments. Rising his chest heaves when he realizes you're destined for the desert. Seeing red, he vows to turn the dunes of Arrakis red with Fremen blood.

______________________

Authors Note:

I now this was a long one, probably the longest part I've ever written. Thank you so much for reading it. What do we think of the Lady's payback? Feyd's attempts to redeem himself and his double dose of Karma? Remember those visions a few chapters ago? What do we think happens next?

If you enjoyed, like comment and reblog.

See you in the comments below, xoxo

______________________

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#austin butler imagine #austin butler #austin butler x reader #black authors #feyd rautha x reader #austin butler x black reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #austin butler x you #dune part 2 #feyd rautha imagine #feyd smut #feyd x reader

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deafsignifcantother · 4 months

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if music be the food of love

♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic) ♥ word count: 2.1k ♥ warnings: reader got hurt by someone they loved before death, reader is shorter than him, bickering, reader loves tea, lonesome reader, alastor invading space ♥ my idea is that reader has a small stereo on her chest that lets out classical music based on her mood. I imagine that it comes from both her chest (softly) and the outside of her manor (loud as fuck). matching pinterest board

Your manor is only visible to the town when the lights are on a tall hill and covered in trees. However, even if all the lights were off, people would at least know it's there.

There are two reasons: the tale and the music.

Tale, a story for the newcomers. They speak of a demon who plays music all day, doomed to play music forever. Oh, the music. The music can be heard from even miles away.

It's refined and dainty, and it reeks of misery. The classical music never seems to repeat itself; it goes on and on and on and on. The demons hear you only through your music. When you cry, the violins and cellos grow with a cruel crescendo. When you sleep, the music is soft, almost quiet. Everyone comes to an understanding, assumption, that if the music were to stop, you would be dead.

The demons who try to step closer to your manor will find themselves experiencing unfathomable sorrow and guilt. The sound of your music is the demonic ability you possess, and it's out of your control. Due to the sadness of your death, you are forced into misery in the afterlife. When you were alive, those you loved and devoted yourself to only broke your heart.

Everybody affected by your music feels that grief.

Alastor doesn't understand why people fear your manor. Your love-related pain doesn't affect him at all.

He starts up the hill, moving both on his feet and through the shadows. On his way to your manor, he focuses on the landscape. The landscape is beautiful; the forest below is so dense that the red sky disappears. Personally, he loves the music. He loves tuning in on you and hearing how you're doing. He sparsely gets to visit, so hearing the song of your heart is always so welcoming.

The worst thing to him is how long the damn walk is.

You're in your house, passing through the dining room, when the lights flicker. The people from the nearby town stutter when the usual sad music suddenly becomes upbeat.

Opening the door, you are greeted by Alastor's traditional smile. You're the one that initiates the hug. He gently wraps his hand around you, only for a short time before he pulls away and establishes his distance.

"Long time no see, my dear." He signs, his claws adding a flare to the simple signs. Truthfully, his sign for "my dear" translates directly to "sweetheart," which he's aware of, just putting faith into you understanding what he means.

"I'll start some tea." You sign, turning immediately to the kitchen.

He smiles at the jazz sneaking its way into your music. The people outside know what it means.

Alastor looks around at the new decor; the place is different every time he enters. It's all the things that you enjoyed when you were alive. That's what is most noticeable about you beyond the aura you possess and how stuck you are to the past; you refuse to acknowledge your situation, which is both a curse and a blessing.

From the kitchen counter, you look at him, seeing him behind you, his staff out of his hands.

He leans a bit forward. "I have news! Have you heard of the new buzz, the new project from the princess of hell?"

A small smile forms. "Charlie?" You remember many years ago when she appeared at your door, in tears due to your involuntary magic, begging you to teach her ASL. You politely declined, though you wrote her a long paper about Deaf Culture (often derailing to rant about your opinion on common debates/crazy events). You've never seen her again, but you're confident she's read it.

You continue, "Her projects are... sweet?"

"Sweet and quite peculiar. She believes that demons can be redeemed. How absurd!" His smile grows, his eyes squinting in interest. He knows you're devoted to being good and staying away from violence. He's here to convince you to join her cause.

"Fascinating," you can't help but show your pure astonishment. "She's on our side."

"Oh, how kind you are!"

The tea is ready. You turn entirely away from Alastor, and he lets you. Your thoughts are apparent; he has spent weeks excited about this conversation. He's absolutely fighting the urge to spill out every argument he has; he wants to mention that if you participate, you'll see each other daily. That hasn't even crossed your mind yet.

You pour the tea and take your time, a little nervous to continue the convo. Alastor's eyes remain on your frame, your casual clothing. The last time he saw you, you were dressed up despite spending your days alone.

You hand a cup to him. Neither sign; you stand still, staring at each other and drinking. Both of you already know what the other will try to say next. Your eyes are deep in thought while he is locked on you. The only reason you are doubting being involved with everything yourself is that you know your aura makes others depressed. It is not very good, isolating. On the opposite stance, Alastor always noticed how your music gets positive whenever he's around. He knows (guesses) that in the hotel, with his presence, your saddening demeanor would be no more.

He moves abruptly, you follow, and he sits on a heavily cushioned couch, dipping deeply, which makes him smile. Your soft smile grows—more piano.

"What are your thoughts?" He prompts with one hand. You take a very long sip of your tea before putting it down.

"I wouldn't make them feel comfortable," you explain. "That's all I think about."

"Ever so pessimistic, my dear. You never know unless you come to visit. What do you say?" He grabs his mic and jokingly reaches it to your face, "A simple visit?"

You put a hand to your temple. "My love," you sign without noticing how his lids droop in comfort, "do you really think I would belong?"

He puts his hand to his chin in faux thought. "Of course I do! The princess will approach you with open arms."

You let out a small, broken groan. You're not going to be winning this little debate. Alastor's going to be able to rebuttal everything you say. Knowing that, why is it still so hard to give in?

You put your hands in your lap before returning them to your temples. His smile grows, and the static radiating off him grows ever so prominent, tickling your skin. You look up at him when you notice the change in the air.

The way he looks at you gives away his intentions. He is standing tall in his usual formal way in his seat, but his eyes are ever so casual. He gazes at you more than anything. His smile is still wide and prideful.

You wiggle a finger at him. "Ah."

He squints.

You continue, "You want to see me more, don't you?"

"Who wouldn't?" He plays off, shrugging. "Your captivating presence has every demon in hell dropping their jaws agape."

"Youuuuuu," you smile mischievously, "you want to see me more."

He continues to wave his hands. "Your accusations are futile, go ahead and fill your pretty head with things such as affection," his shoulders bounce as he chuckles, "dreams about how I miss you."

A breathless laugh leaves your lips. Rather than continue the teasing, you let the positive atmosphere linger in the air. You lift your chin with confidence. "Practically admitting it."

"I know what you want me from me." He signs. You smile at how he interpreted it. You don't bother responding. Instead, you give him a sly smile and lift your cup, taking another long sip; his bottom eyelid is twitching.

The last time he saw you, he signed you many compliments and even danced with you to the rhythm of your music. He let you put your hand on his face as he leaned his forehead against yours.

Admittedly, you only started teasing him because you wanted him to tell you that he missed you. Obviously, he did. You didn't expect him to be so stubborn about it.

When you don't respond, he continues. "When I'm here, your heart sings in happiness."

You nod and sign with one hand. "Very true."

"Well, I find the sound lovely."

"Very appreciated."

You watch as he leans back and crosses his legs, lifting and finishing the teacup. You both spend a few seconds without conversation, just looking at each other. In an attempt to hide how flustered you are starting to look, you lean your head back and gulp down the tea to the point where the cup is hiding your face. But you can only keep it in that position for a short time. After finishing the drink, you place it back down, finding that Alastor is already sitting with his fingers intertwined and waiting for you. His eyes sparkle.

"My dear, I missed you very much." And as quickly as the affection comes, it disappears. "I must give the little lady what she wants. There, are you happy?"

"I missed you too, Alastor. Thank you for coming up again."

Sappy, sappy, sappy. Will you agree to return to the hotel with him now?

He straights his bowtie and stands. "My dear, I'm afraid our time here will be cut short; I have a hotel to show you, don't I?"

You stay seated, just eyeing him. Peer pressure, you sigh and try not to roll your eyes. A simple nose exhaling is enough to show him how you feel.

He leans his head to the side. "Is there anything I can do to convince you?"

You finally stand and meet his eyes. His eyes are gorgeous; you love the way he looks at you. He doesn't take his eyes off you when you step close to him. Your hands reach for his overcoat, and you adjust it fruitlessly, only wanting an excuse to touch him.

You smile. "I can cook you something for your long trip back."

"Our."

"Your."

You both lean in, smiles straining.

He tries again. "Our."

"Biscuits, I assume," you turn your heels and motion for him to follow you. The motion you make is beckoning, and when you flick your wrist, he grabs it and pulls you into him. He lets you go to see your response. Your heart is beating out of your chest. You fall for people too easily. His touch is demanding, yet his face is calm, and with how close he is, all you can do is stare up at him. Your feet stumble a bit to adjust to your new stance. He will fight tooth and nail to get you to follow him back; throughout his days, he always wonders what you're doing and your music might sound like. He'll close his eyes and try to imagine the melody in moments of silence at the hotel.

You can't find yourself stepping back. "I'm perfectly okay with where I am." A lie. "Nobody will bother me if I'm out here."

"And nobody will bother you when you're next to me, get it?" After he signs, both of his hands hold your cheeks. He tilts your head back and forth to try and lighten the mood that's getting a little serious.

You try to hold his wrists and pull his hands down, but he fights against you. He lifts your face so he can look at you head-on. The waist bends his body; he curls himself up to you. Your touch falls to his sleeves and then moves to his biceps, your fingers grazing him gently.

The music is fast-paced, like your heart. It sounds almost angelic, a new ethereal sound surrounding it.

"Okay," you fold but then immediately chew on the inside of your lip.

"Perfect!" He presses his forehead to yours quickly before pulling away. He's taking this win. He turns and eyes the room, motioning. "Packing anything?"

With a small sigh of defeat, you place your hands on your temples again. What would you even need? Like a spoiled child, you realize that if you did need something in particular, Alastor would get it for you. You smiled and shook your head to yourself. "I don't think I need anything at all."

"Spectacular!" Another dramatic sign. "Come along then." The fast twirling of his staff blows air onto you when you start to walk behind him, eyeing how his fingers twist. His head turns as he glances at you from the corner of his eye, his head dipping as his smile widens. The static in the air becomes thicker.

You take a deep breath. If you can say 'I told you so' to him, you will be bringing it up until the end of time. He knows that, so it's good that he's confident in himself and his deductions. He'll ensure you won't be leaving and isolating yourself any longer.

#x deaf reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #x reader

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daycourtofficial · 2 months

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Forever is the sweetest con

Cassian x reader, Azriel x reader

Summary: based on this request - the war with Hybern claimed the life of your husband. Reeling with grief, you discover that you’re pregnant. His brother and your friend, Azriel, begins spending more and more time with you, finding solace in each other amidst your shared grief.

Author’s note: sadness, sadness, sadness, this one took me ages to write bc it’s so fucking sad 😭 I’m not super happy with this bc I was mostly trying to meet the deadline so this might feel disjointed bc I had to kinda skip around a lot. Also I didn’t tag this as Cassian x reader in tags bc it felt too painful to do that

Word count: 3k

Warnings: character death, unexpected pregnancy, honestly just sadness

“I’m Cassian.”

A large, handsome male greeted you as you were shelving some new books away. His large outstretched hand reached towards you, waiting in the air for a moment as you set the stack of books in your arms down. Your hand gets lost in the warmth of his, telling him your own name.

He smiles at it, repeating it, testing it on his tongue.

For days, that is the only memory playing in your head. It is what you think of as you lay in your shared bed, his scent still lingering. It is what you think when Feyre picks you up, and her and Mor place you in a bathtub as they clean you. It is what you think of as you stare at the ceiling, hoping it will collapse on you.

It is what you think of as you stand between Rhysand and Azriel at Cassian’s memorial. It is what you think of as they lower the casket into the ground, the citizens of Velaris standing around to pay their respects.

You don’t notice the hundreds of people who come to offer you a silent nod, a gentle prayer over you, their voices carrying gentle choruses of “he was so brave” and “you should be proud”.

You’re too numb for any of this. You’re too numb to recognize the hand Azriel places on your back, or the hand Feyre clasps into your own, squeezing tightly.

All you can think about is how his hand felt in your own the first time you held it - warm, gentle, comforting. And how it felt the last time you held it - cold, lifeless, gone.

Being a war hero came with a cost.

Only Cassian didn’t have to pay it - those he left behind did.

You’re not sure how much time has passed since Cassian died. You’re not sure if the people of Velaris still mourned him, or were simply wearing the traditional colors of their court.

You sat in one of Cassian’s old tunics, piles of clothes scattered on the floor around you. Your back was to the wall, its cool surface warming with your heat.

You hear movement in the house, but you don’t have the energy or ability to care who’s here.

Someone knocks gently before coming into the room, Azriel’s large frame coming through the door to your chambers. He sees the slightly ajar closet door, and shimmies his way in, sitting next to you amidst the pile of clothes on the floor.

He notes that they all seemed to have been pulled right off their hangers, in a fit of rage or desperation perhaps. Shades of black and red litter the floor, and the realization that it was all Cassian’s clothes causes him to take in a deep breath.

You two sit for a while, Azriel’s wings likely cramped in the small space. Mother knows Cassian complained if he spent more than five minutes in your closet.

Azriel just sits in silence, his shadows gently swirling the floor, searching through the piles.

For what, you’re not sure.

You finally speak, the words hard to form. You didn’t speak much these days - your voice a rare sound for your family’s ears.

“He doesn’t need them to be hung up anymore.”

Azriel sighs, shifting closer to you. He gauges you, looking for a reaction before moving a bit closer.

“He never needed them hung up. Before you he mostly just left his clothes strewn about the room. Drove Nuala and Cerridwen mad.”

You look at him, pulled from your trance of that black shirt Cassian wore when the two of you went on vacation in Adriada. The shirt that fit him so well the two of you did not see the beach at all for the five days you were there.

“They’d complain, saying every night he’d pull his clothes that they neatly hung up and the next morning they’d be strewn about his room,” he shrugs, still confused over how Cassian kept track of where everything was.

“Eventually Rhys told them to stop and to let Cassian do what he wants. No idea how he managed to stay neat and tidy with you.”

Your eyes meet his, and he reaches out a hand for you. It’s the first offer of help you’ve accepted in days. You keep his hand in yours for a long time, sitting amongst Cassian’s clothes.

You were sitting on the small balcony of your home, looking out at the expansive night sky above you. Elbows on knees, collapsing in on yourself.

Eyes red rimmed, tear tracks marking your face. You had never felt so helpless or as hopeless as you did now. Your eyes snag on a dark figure, soaring through the skies, its body getting closer and closer.

Azriel had taken to checking on you every three days now. Make sure you were eating, washing, and moving. Honestly if it weren’t for these biweekly check ins, you’re not sure how you would be faring.

The Illyrian descends next to you, a soft landing as he tucks his wings back in and sits next to you. You two sit in silence for a while, the sounds of the night a melody playing for just you two.

Velaris is dark, few fae lights scattered throughout the city aglow. You breathe deeply, taking in the smell of Azriel next to you. You should tell him, but you haven’t been able to tell anyone all week.

It was eating you up - you knew they’d be supportive, you knew they’d love you and help you in anyway they could. But it would still break their hearts just a bit more.

Your internal debate is ended by the overwhelming turn of your stomach, your lunch from earlier wanting to make a quick exit. You hurriedly get up, running towards your bathroom and throwing yourself on your toilet, narrowly reaching it in time.

Azriel ran after you, making quick work of grabbing your hair before you began your second wave of vomiting. The only sounds in the room are your retching and Azriel’s soothing tunes.

His other hand gently rubs your back as you feel as if you’re going to die. From embarassment or pain, you’re not sure. He waits for you to say what he already suspects, having noted a subtle shift in your scent when he arrived.

You wipe your mouth, not wanting to say the words aloud. The words that Madja had told you three days ago, the words that caused you to shut down until now.

“I’m pregnant,” you say, head leaning against the toilet seat. “All Cass wanted was to be a dad. Now I’m pregnant and he’s dead.”

A forced laugh comes from you.

“It’s not fair, Az.”

Your words hang in the air, and your friend responds by wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you into his lap. He nuzzles his head into your shoulder, his breath shuddering as he cries softly into your hair.

The two of you lay there, the cool bathroom tile digging imprints into your skin as he holds you, tears streaming from both of you.

Several months along in your pregnancy, and Azriel has essentially moved in with you full time. He takes meticulous care of you and the babe - he goes to your appointments with Madja with you, he goes baby shopping with you, he even put together the crib in your room.

He was your late husband’s brother. He was stepping up, knowing that Cassian would want him to help you. And yet your dreams wouldn’t stop being so perverse.

For the past month, every night without fail you dreamt of Azriel. Every dream was different - some of places you’ve gone before, places you only know of because Azriel described them.

The dreams were weird and disorienting, but you left them there. They were dreams.

About how beautiful he was. About his hands, his wings, his shoulders, his thighs.

Every day you’d wake up full of shame at where your mind takes you against your will.

“Az,” you say, a serious look on your face. “Something’s wrong.”

He looks over to you, glasses perched on his nose. The knife in his hand clatters, landing on the cutting board, a piece of carrot tumbling to the floor as he moves to you quickly.

Your breathing becomes more shallow, and you hold your hands out, reaching for his. Once his fingers reach yours, you bring his hands to your bump.

Just as he’s about to ask what the problem is, he feels a soft thump against his scarred hand. He can’t control the soft laugh that comes from him, and he can’t help but cradle your bump just a little tighter.

He looks back up to you, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“I thought something was wrong.”

You smile, “I know - that’s what makes it fun.”

Almost eight months had passed since Cassian’s death, and you were finally able to hear his name without breaking down. Azriel was the only one you would talk to about him, though.

It felt right to talk about Cassian to Azriel. It felt right to plunge yourself back into the memories of him - his boisterous laugh, his insistence on touching someone at all times, his presence in rooms.

It felt right, and the babe in your belly would kick frequently whenever Azriel spoke to you about Cassian, as if they knew who you were talking about.

It felt so right, and yet so wrong. Every night before bed you replayed the memories of the day, desperately trying to insert Cassian into Azriel’s spot in them.

He never fit perfectly into them, the edges of him not quite the right size.

This was too much.

You were an absolute fool to believe you could do this. To not only birth but to raise your dead husband’s babe. Who let you do this? Who thought this was a good idea?

“Hey.”

Azriel’s voice vibrates through you, pulling you from your thoughts, his large frame behind you. Your back pressed to his chest, his arms helping hold your legs up.

You lean your head against him.

“This was a terrible, terrible idea.”

He smiles, “Cassian never was known for good ideas.”

Your face contorts in agony, a strong cramping pain rippling through you.

Azriel takes the wet cloth from the nurse to his left, holding it on your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well.”

You scoff, “if I was doing well, the babe would be out by now!”

Azriel takes your jabs, your sarcasm, the intense squeezing of his hand in yours. He’ll take everything you throw at him.

After about eight hours, you were blessed by the cauldron with a beautiful boy, tiny wings clinging to his back as he cried.

Azriel’s presence didn’t stop after the babe, Camden, was born. If anything, he spent more time with you. He delegated much of his work as spymaster to support you, even going so far as helping coordinate schedules for Feyre or Nesta to help you bathe.

In the first few weeks, you were able to move around, but you were utterly exhausted. Not just the physical demands of your babe and recovering from birthing a winged babe, but also the emotional toll this took on you left you unable to care much for yourself.

You had thought being bathed would make you feel like a burden, but Feyre and Nesta did everything to make you feel so loved instead. They lit candles, rubbed your back, and told you how proud of you they were constantly. Their words never failed to make you cry, the task at hand feeling impossible if you thought about it too hard.

Eventually, after weeks of sleepless nights, feeling like nothing more than a cow for milk, you and Azriel were able to settle into a routine.

He took care of the babe at night, allowing you decent sleep. He brought Camden to you for his middle of the night feedings. You took care of Camden during the morning through early afternoon while Azriel attended to his duties. The two of you cooked dinner together, Azriel always insisting on washing dishes afterwards.

After a while, it all felt so normal. As if Cassian was never meant to be here for this part.

A few months after your son’s first birthday all Hell broke loose. It was a regular day. The sun still shone as it always does, your son was as beautiful as ever. Azriel was holding Camden in the air, helping him stretch out his wings, when he spoke for the first time.

A soft dada accompanied the little boy’s giggles, followed by Azriel stiffening immediately. You looked to the shadowsinger, and when his eyes met yours, you knew.

As if a golden thread appeared out of thin air, tying a knot from Azriel to you, you could feel him. You pulled an experimental tug in the bond, and he pulled back.

Wide eyes meet each other from across the room, silent except for Camden’s continued giggles. You stare at him bewildered, your expression mirrored back to you on his face.

A high pitched noise starts ringing in your eyes before everything goes black.

“It’s a bit of a cruel joke,” you say. “I want to love him, I want to be with my mate. But what kind of person does that to her deceased husband?”

You had woken up in Rhys’s office twenty minutes ago to your head in Feyre’s lap, her hands gently running through your hair.

You had heard bits of hushed conversation, and you thought you had heard Az, but when you came to, he was nowhere to be seen.

Rhys looks contemplative before saying, “you of all people should know that Cassian would have wanted you to be happy.”

You put your head in your hands, gathering to courage to say your worst thoughts out loud.

“It feels like Cassian died for me. I know he didn’t, but I can’t help but feel like if he had survived, would Azriel still be my mate? He would have let me be with him, yes, but just.”

You sigh, trying to grab the fragmented thoughts in your head and place them together. Rhys lets you, allowing silence to fill the room.

“It would have killed him having to watch me choose Azriel over him. He would have done the respectable thing, he would have stepped back. He would have been happy for us.”

You sigh, “but if it were the other way, if Nesta or Elain were his mate, I’m not sure I could give him up.”

Your words come pouring out quickly before you begin sobbing. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. His hands wrap around your head, and he gently smooths your hair down.

“Feyre and I are immensely happy for you, despite the circumstances. Both of you. I know you might not feel like it, but you made your own family.”

You found Azriel a few hours later in what used to be his room in the townhouse. He hardly stayed here, hardly stayed at any of Rhys’s estates anymore, opting instead for the comfort of the home you two now shared.

“Hi,” you say tentatively, stepping through the door.

“Hi,” he echos back, turning to see you.

“Crazy day,” you say, pulling lightly on the bond. He cracks a smile, but there’s a sadness deep in his gaze that you haven’t seen in months.

He moves towards you, slow and deliberate steps, as if you were a bunny found in the woods easily scared off.

“Do you want this?” He asks, eyes focused on your own.

You nod your head. He nods back.

“I dreamt of you. For months, years even. Since about halfway through my pregnancy, you’ve been in my dreams most nights.”

He watches you speak, letting you say whatever it is you need to. You take a deep breath before continuing.

“I don’t want to forget Cass, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re replacing him. I can love both of you.”

He steps closer, slowly moving towards you until he’s stopped right in front of you, his wings blocking you in.

“It’s unconventional, I understand. And I understand if you don’t want a widow with a child.” You look up towards him, determination in your eyes. “But I am all in.”

He gently cups your cheek, eyes full of conflict. “It won’t be easy,” he muses.

“Nothing about this has been easy, why start now?”

His face slowly moves closer to yours, his lips gentle against your own. His hands still hold you gently, as he kisses you long and slow.

There would be time for passion later, his kiss now is full of the emotions words can’t convey. Adoration, sacrifice, immense grief.

You thought having Azriel kiss you would make you feel like you were betraying Cassian. Instead you feel an overwhelming sense of rightness as your hands cup his jaw back, pouring every ounce of you into him.

You and Azriel look out at your backyard, watching Nyx and Camden run around, play fighting with their swords. The two boys occasionally take short flights, only about a foot or so off the ground.

Azriel wraps his arms around you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You close your eyes, letting yourself feel this moment, allowing the sounds of the boys playing and your mate’s breathing to lull you into some form of peace you never thought you’d find again.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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mysoullanguage · 10 months

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#0017 your relationship with your mother, based on your moon sign

aries moon: your mother could’ve been an example of independence and freedom. she could’ve been a highly confident person with great ambitions and determination. for you, you would’ve always had your personal space and independence respected. now, you would be a confidently independent person with respect for others’ boundaries. your mother would build you up instead of seeing you as competition. another side to this placement could be a mother who was controlling or superstitious of what you were doing. obsessiveness or severe possessiveness could’ve led you to have a lot of anxiety with others in your personal space. therefore, you’ve become a hyper independent person who sees other people’s company as a threat. because you worked so hard to gain your own independence from having your independence, privacy, and boundaries violated as a child, you tend to build up emotional walls around yourself. your mother could’ve been a temperamental type with an unpredictable attitude in the house. commitment issues or issues with emotions are a common theme with this placement as any sort of tension or problem = a threat to you. this, as a result, causes you to resent your mother as someone who has hurt your self-esteem, confidence, and as someone who never respected your privacy and boundaries. the mother could've acted the father or have bad relations with the father or may have competed with him. mommy issues are common here.

taurus moon: this is a comforting moon placement, as your mother was likely a very caring and hardworking person. the only negative really about this placement could've been a highly materialistic view on life or a person overly protective with low self-esteem; someone who focused on work too much to the point of neglect. generally, however, this is a very reliable person who taught you a lot when it came to self-worth. she could've taught you how to build it yourself through her own insecurities or she could've helped you build it by supporting you. she may have taught you that material things = happiness. you are traditional and have very strong morals. she may have been overly traditional however; she may have had strict rules or may have been rigid with her upbringing of you. generally, she was an anchor to you because of her ability to teach you patience and resistance. this isn't a hugely emotional placement (for you or the mother) but there is great wait and patience when feeling things. impulses are not rushed and neither is sadness but they are felt. you have been taught to take life slowly and to take partnerships seriously rather than treating them like they only come once in a lifetime. your mother could’ve projected her ideal version of you and tried to make you do things to fit a “perfect” picture — she expected too much of you.

gemini moon: your mother could’ve been someone who gossiped or spoke in public. for you, emotions are either a silent topic or are actually very well expressed. if your mother was someone who projected onto you or provided a turbulent household (constantly moving, etc.) then you could’ve learned that, really, nowhere is your home. this is a very depressing placement to those who want a family as they feel it hard setting down roots or even connecting to their own previous roots. verbal abuse or a mother who was very emotionally distant OR unstable and could’ve caused you to be unsure of your true feelings. if your mother was in and out of your childhood, you were probably on your own and therefore became very used to your own company. as a result, you’ve become hyper-independent. curious and versatile with others, your versatility came from your imaginative childhood and forced use of skills and knowledge. on the other hand however, you could’ve just had a dynamic household in which travel and sport was emphasised. your creativity, curiosity, and passions were fuelled by a mother who was the same as you. so, she could’ve been great inspiration to you on how to use your words or thinking in a way that benefits you or the reason you are emotionally fickle. the stereotype that air moons are emotionally cold or unavailable stems from the fact that their mothers never really let them explore their feelings and, as a result, see them more of a chore than an actual element of humanity.

cancer moon: family is a strongly potent memory to you, in whatever context that may mean for you. your mother may have been a deeply compassionate person with a lot of care for the home and family. because this is in its natural placement, it indicates more peace than turbulence. you share a strong connection with your mother. your mother and household will have a big impact on your life, ultimately helping you decide what type of family you want, and what type of mother you want to be. on the one hand, your mother may have been incredibly patient, humble, caring, and loving. on the other, she may have been overly protective and overly possessive over you, sheltering you away from life's harsh realities and, as a result, causing you isolation and boredom. emotions are deeply felt and nostalgia/sentimentality are strong feelings in your life. the result of loneliness in your household may have caused you to be overly dependent in relationships or forces you to over-indulge in emotions in relationships. alternatively, emotions may set you off altogether and you may deal with things on your own. abandonment issues may be a prominent observation with this placement. mommy issues are also prominent here.

leo moon: your mother was the source of your self-esteem issues or your radiant confidence. on the one hand, your mother could’ve been a confident and artistic person with a great attitude towards life. she could’ve been a fashionable and intelligent person with great optimism. this would’ve caused you to develop a healthy self-esteem with a love of self-love and dignity. for you, you are highly dignified and never seek for others’ approval. on the other hand, your mother could’ve seen you as competition or as someone who challenged her authority. she could’ve seen you as an extension of herself, ultimately using you as a project, projecting her insecurities and feelings onto you. you may have, therefore, become heavily burdened with doubts of your own self-esteem and value. so, you tend to look for value through others. you cannot self-validate yourself so you look for validation and approval through others. this toxic pattern leads to many vain and dangerous relationships in which your insecurities must be overcome by appearances and material things. you may have become a bad people pleaser as a result of your mother’s demanding nature or someone who had a strong self-image.

virgo moon: this placement is very popular with vain or insecure people as their mother could’ve been a highly critical and difficult person. for you, you could’ve had a hardworking mother or a mother who was insecure… or even very sick in general. either way, diet may have been important in her life or your life as either may have struggled from sort of diet restriction or disorder. your mother could’ve been a great public speaker who used her voice to help others and was, in general, a very caring person with a loving heart. she could’ve shown you the true meaning of healing and helping others, or she could’ve turned you into an absolute people-pleaser with little to no boundaries. your experiences are often self-sabotaged. for example, relationships are often manifested to challenge your self-perception. you may have a strong work ethic or you may be someone so emotionally out of tune you rarely let others see how you feel. you could be a very gentle and strong person otherwise. your personality can either be magnetic and gentle, or insecure and tense. lack of boundaries and lack of self-esteem and confidence could’ve forced you to let others abuse and hurt you because you have no sense of right or wrong. there could be very high expectations upon you or your mother was just very critical. virgo is a perfectionist; they typically despise anything or anyone that does not fit a specific ideal.

libra moon: your relationship with your mother could’ve been very vain or superficial. on the one hand, your mother could’ve been very feminine and beautiful. as a result of her presence and influence, you’ve become feminine and very beautiful too. if your mother was the type with high standards, her influence could’ve made you into someone who has high standards too, or at least someone who has a strong self-image. regardless however, your mother’s “looseness” or “unseriousness” and general optimism would’ve encouraged you to be the same. your flirtatious attitude and charming personality heavily reflects her buoyant personality. if your mother was the insecure type, she may have used relationships as an escape from reality or used relationships/men as a way to gain validation and value. in some aspects, she may have married the man for money. in general however, this is a very vain placement where appearances are heavily depended on. external validation reassures internal insecurities and reinforces a broken relationship you have with yourself. superficiality is a key observation as you tend to live life and relationships on the surface instead of reaching below.

scorpio moon: there is a greatly intuitive or psychic relationship with the mother. she may have been the source of great paranoia and emotional pain. manipulation, gaslighting, and invasiveness was probably a popular theme in your early childhood and present life. your mother was either very distant or very emotionally demanding with you. she would've expected you to understand life at a profoundly deep level and, oftentimes, she had a negative view of life and people, ultimately projecting it on you. thus you feel as though you were forced to understand too much at a very young age. in some instances, this placement could indicate a family with many secrets, with your birth being a reminder of certain secrets. your strained relationship with your mother causes you to actually have distrust with others and to have a hard time opening up to others. this is oftentimes the source of scorpio moon's "scared to open up unless it's with someone they love" stereotype. many people say scorpio moons are deeply emotional with caring and compassionate hearts but fail to mention it's because their mother has forced them to feel so much when they were young as a result of the mother's "need" to constantly probe into their lives.

sagittarius moon: for you, independence and spontaneity were a big theme in your childhood, and still are. your mother could've been the type of person who saw your potential from a very young age. she could've been overly protective over you or controlling to the point you felt restricted and burdened by her paranoia. alternatively, this could point to a mother who was very adventurous and spontaneous and was a great inspiration to you and helped you shape your view on your own life. she could've been a traditional person with strong morals, with you ultimately having them too. your need for independence stems from the likelihood you were very unique as a child and didn't fit in many places. there is mutual love and understanding of one another but there is also a tendency to be stubborn with one another. oftentimes, your philosophical way of living is actually opposite to your mother's; therefore, you learn to live opposite to what your mother has taught you. so, your mother becomes an important anchor in your way of living this way. personal observation: these people may be foreigners in another country OR have a foreign mother

capricorn moon: one issue with this placement is the material and cold emphasis typical with almost any capricorn placement. on the one hand, your mother could’ve been a highly skilled worker who was very hardworking and determined in the home. she could’ve been a very material person with great success and status to her name. her being family-oriented may have caused you to be the same. you may have traditional values that reflect your mother’s. on the other hand, you may have had a mother who was overly possessive and controlling. she was probably the type to worry too much or have too much control over your boundaries and self-esteem. her micro-managing you could’ve made you resent her care. emotional unpredictability could’ve been a strong theme but also the fact that emotional coldness from her would’ve turned you into someone who rarely focuses on the emotional, but instead, on the rational. you are a rational feeler with little regard to actual feelings like sadness. if this moon is positively aspected, you could have a very strong work ethic with great boundaries and good self-esteem. you are powerful in everything you do; you do not let your feelings and short-felt impulses lead you astray from your ultimate goal. for others, however, the lack of emotional support and comfort or constant smothering could’ve caused you to either become overly independent in fear of vulnerability and in fear of losing yourself in other people. you may have matured early. she was probably very serious and you may have always felt a silent disapproval from her. she expected you to follow the dogma or the rules of the book which, inevitably, has made you want to go against them…

aquarius moon: you are versatile, curious, and emotionally detached. this doesn't mean you don't feel emotions or aren't connected to them; rather, you think logically than emotionally. in your childhood, your mother could have been a highly inquisitive person, but one to let you to your own devices. this means you may have grown up very early or may have matured very early. your relationship with your mother may be very hot and cold or just very cold because the independence acquired in your childhood has caused you to be, inevitably, independent and self-reliant as an adult. there's little to no need for anyone really, even relationships. however, there is still a deeper yearning for connection and understanding between you and others. on a general level, you are a very mental person who prioritizes mental synchronicity. this is the key to ultimately unlocking your heart. your lack of emotional connection with your mother and her unpredictable emotions or attitudes would've ultimately led you to use problem-solving skills rather than compassion in many scenarios. additionally, you may have forgiven yourself for trying to rely on your mother for emotional support. simply put, she couldn’t offer you the emotional security you required. you may have had little to no friend groups as a child; you may have felt left out a lot.

pisces moon: there is often a sad disconnect with the mother as a child, whether the mother was absent/distant or actually dead. you may have a very intuitive bond with your mother but you may have also taken her burdens upon yourself as a child. you may have been lonely. on the one hand, she could have been a highly intuitive and caring person with a deep personality and an admirative perspective on life and people. mental illness, addiction, or neglect may run through the family whether your mother suffered from this or you. with this placement, you have learned compassion and patience and have learned understanding of other people's suffering. she may have been an artistic person with a loose approach to life and she could've been a genuinely compassionate inspiration to you. if not, she may have been an overly smothering person with little regard for your own individuality; she may have been insecure or may have had her head too far in the clouds at all times. she may have found it difficult to truly connect with life. there could’ve been more than one mother figure here. your relationship with your mother has caused you to become hyper aware of other people’s moods and reactions — you tend to “just know” how people feel.

#astrology #astro notes #astro observations

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reasonsforhope · 2 months

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Hazel Chandler was at home taking care of her son when she began flipping through a document that detailed how burning fossil fuels would soon jeopardize the planet.

She can’t quite remember who gave her the report — this was in 1969 — but the moment stands out to her vividly: After reading a list of extreme climate events that would materialize in the coming decades, she looked down at the baby she was nursing, filled with dread.

“‘Oh my God, I’ve got to do something,’” she remembered thinking...

It was one of several such moments throughout Chandler’s life that propelled her into activist spaces — against the Vietnam War, for civil rights and women’s rights, and in support of environmental causes.

She participated in letter-writing campaigns and helped gather others to write to legislators about vital pieces of environmental legislation including the Clean Air Act and the Clean Water Act, passed in 1970 and 1972, respectively. At the child care center she worked at, she helped plan celebrations around the first Earth Day in 1970.

Now at 78, after working in child care and health care for most of her life, she’s more engaged than ever. In 2015, she began volunteering with Elder Climate Action, which focuses on activating older people to fight for the environment. She then took a job as a consultant for the Union for Concerned Scientists, a nonprofit science advocacy organization.

More recently, her activism has revolved around her role as the Arizona field coordinator of Moms Clean Air Force, a nonprofit environmental advocacy group. Chandler helps rally volunteers to take action on climate and environmental justice issues, recruiting residents to testify and meet with lawmakers.

Pictured: Hazel Chandler tables at Environment Day at Wesley Bolin Plaza in front of the Arizona State Capitol in Phoenix, Arizona, in January 2024.

Her motivation now is the same as it was decades ago.

“When I look my grandchildren and my great-grandchildren, my children, in the eye, I have to be able to say, ‘I did everything I could to protect you,’” Chandler said. “I have to be able to tell them that I’ve done everything possible within my ability to help move us forward.”

Chandler is part of a largely unrecognized contingent of the climate movement in the United States: the climate grannies.

The most prominent example perhaps, is the actor Jane Fonda. The octogenarian grandmother has been arrested during climate protests a number of times and has her own PAC that funds the campaigns of “climate champions” in local and state elections.

Climate grannies come equipped with decades of activism experience and aim to pressure the government and corporations to curb fossil fuel emissions. As a result they, alongside women of every age group, are turning out in bigger numbers, both at protests and the polls. All of the climate grandmothers The 19th interviewed for this piece noted one unifying theme: concern for their grandchildren’s futures.

According to research conducted by Dana R. Fisher, director for the Center of Environment, Community and Equity at American University, while the mainstream environmental movement has typically been dominated by men, women make up 61 percent of climate activists today. The average age of climate activists was 52 with 24 percent being 69 and older...

A similar trend holds true at the ballot box, according to data collected by the Environmental Voter Project, a nonpartisan organization focused on turning out climate voters in elections.

A report released by the Environmental Voter Project in December that looked at the patterns of registered voters in 18 different states found that after the Gen Z vote, people 65 and older represent the next largest climate voter group, with older women far exceeding older men in their propensity to list climate as their No. 1 reason for voting. The organization defines climate voters as those who are most likely to list climate change, the environment, or clean air and water as their top political priority.

“Grandmothers are now at the vanguard of today’s climate movement,” said Nathaniel Stinnett, founder of the Environmental Voter Project.

“Older people are three times as likely to list climate as a top priority than middle-aged people. On top of that, women in all age groups are more likely to care about climate than men,” he said. “So you put those two things together … and you can safely say that grandma is much more likely to be a climate voter than your middle-aged man.”

In Arizona, where Chandler lives, older climate voters make up 231,000 registered voters in the state. The presidential election in the crucial swing state was decided by just 11,000 votes, Stinnett noted.

“Older climate voters can really throw their weight around in Arizona if they organize and if they make sure that everybody goes to the polls,” he said.

Pictured: Hazel Chandler’s recent activism revolves around her role as the Arizona field coordinator of Moms Clean Air Force, a nonprofit environmental advocacy group.

In some cases, their identities as grandmothers have become an organizing force.

In California, 1000 Grandmothers for Future Generations formed in 2016, after older women from the Bay Area traveled to be in solidarity with Indigenous grandmothers protesting the construction of the Dakota Access Pipeline at the Standing Rock Sioux Reservation.

“When they came back, they decided to form an organization that would continue to mobilize women on behalf of the climate justice movement,” said Nancy Hollander, a member of the group.

1000 Grandmothers — in this case, the term encompasses all older women, not just the literal grandmothers — is rooted at the intersection of social justice and the climate crisis, supporting people of color and Indigenous-led causes in the Bay Area. The organization is divided into various working groups, each with a different focus: elections, bank divestments from fossil fuels, legislative work, nonviolent direct actions, among others...

“There are women in the nonviolent direct action part of the organization who really do feel that elder women — it’s their time to stand up and be counted and to get arrested,” Hollander said. “They consider it a historical responsibility and put themselves out there to protect the more vulnerable.”

But 1000 Grandmothers credits another grandmother activist, Pennie Opal Plant, for helping train their members in nonviolent direct action and for inspiring them to take the lead of Indigenous women in the fight.

Plant, 66 — an enrolled member of the Yaqui of Southern California tribe, and of undocumented Choctaw and Cherokee ancestry — has started various organizations over the years, including Idle No More SF Bay, which she co-founded with a group of Indigenous grandmothers in 2013, first in solidarity with a group formed by First Nations women in Canada to defend treaty rights and to protect the environment from exploitation.

Pictured: Pennie Opal Plant has started various organizations over the years, including Idle No More SF Bay, which she founded in 2013 alongside Indigenous grandmothers.

In 2016, Plant gathered with others in front of Wells Fargo Corporate offices in San Francisco, blocking the road in protest of the Dakota Access Pipeline, when she realized the advantages she had as an older woman in the fight.

As a police liaison — or a person who aims to defuse tension with law enforcement — she went to speak to an officer who was trying to interrupt the action. When she saw him maneuvering his car over a sidewalk, she stood in front of it, her gray hair flowing. “I opened my arms really wide and was like, are you going to run over a grandmother?”

A new idea was born: The Society of Fearless Grandmothers. Once an in-person training — it now mostly exists online as a Facebook page — it helped teach other grandmothers how to protect the youth at protests.

For Plant, the role of grandmothers in the fight to protect the planet is about a simple Indigenous principle: ensuring the future for the next seven generations.

“What we’re seeing is a shift starting with Indigenous women, that is lifting up the good things that mothers have to share, the good things that women that love children can share, that will help bring back balance in the world,” Plant said...

[Kathleen] Sullivan is one of approximately 70,000 people over the age of 60 who’ve joined Third Act, a group specifically formed to engage people 60 and older to mobilize for climate action across the country.

“This is an act of moral responsibility. It’s an act of care. And It’s an act of reciprocity to the way in which we are cared for by the planet,” Sullivan said. “It’s an act of interconnection to your peers, because there can be great joy and great sense of solidarity with other people around this.”

-via The 19th, January 31, 2024

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demonicbaby666 · 8 months

Text

You’re Mine

One shot | Marvel Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 1.5k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, jealousy, fingering, daddy kink, asphyxiation, sort of public sex being that people are on the other side of a door...

Summary: Natasha has always had a thing for you being hers and only hers. It's one of the things you love about her. However, it's impossibly hard not to rile her up because of her tendency to get overprotective and possessive. This time, you may have pushed her too far. So much so that she takes matters into her own hands with a lot more urgency than what you're used to.

A/n: my finger slipped and turned my laptop's whore mode on xxx

Emerald eyes were glued to the hand on your thigh. Of course, Maria hadn't meant to stir the pot when she'd harmlessly laid her hand down. Someone had made a joke, and after a series of light slaps, her hand just settled. It wasn't uncomfortable initially, but as Natasha's eyes continued to bore into you, it certainly was.

The next thing to do was to simply move Maria's hand away. Yet, there was something so satisfying about Nat's flushed face, reddening from anger, and her auburn hair that seemed to burn brighter similarly that - you didn't care to admit it - made your stomach tense in the best of ways. Was it a good idea to egg her on? Of course not. That didn't stop you from leaning into the casual contact from Maria. The lonely hand on your knee was soon joined by yours.

If Natasha wasn't pissed off before, she sure as hell was now, and you couldn't blame her. It would have been too much for anyone to handle, what with the exaggerated laughs, nudges, and non-existent space between you and Maria. You served up a platter of green and practically spoon-feed envy straight into Nat's mouth, which was now clenched together.

"A word outside," Nat said, suddenly standing above you. The veins in her neck were strained and pulsing; her nostrils flared as heaved breaths racked through her whole body. The tight-fitted shirt she wore rose and fell plain as day, and from this sight alone, you realised you may have pushed too far.

Not waiting for a response, Natasha grabbed your wrist, pulling you up and out of the room - ignoring the following sets of eyes.

Once you were away from said prying eyes, the older woman had you backed against the wall in an instant, eyes of fury scorching through you.

"You think I'd let that slide?" She seethed, wrapping her fingers around your throat, "Do I need to remind you that you're mine?"

The tight, possessive coiling of her fingers burned down your chest and ignited a fire between your legs. Nat had never been shy about where she stood on you getting comfortable with others. Even mentioning previous relationships would have repercussions. Often, these were reminders of how said relationships lacked vital things only Natasha could give you, i.e., the ability to walk the next day.

"No," you squeaked.

"It's obvious I do," Nat growled, sliding a hand between your bodies and roughly palming your breast.

The beginnings of a moan caught in your throat as the auburnette squeezed her fingers tighter around your neck. In some ways, you knew it would boil down to this, though you expected the display of dominance and ownership to come later in the night, when everyone was fast asleep, and no sound made would penetrate the alert ears that filled the room the other side of the wall.

You tried pleading with her, "Nat, they'll hear."

"Let them," she said, her lips inching closer to your ear, "It seems they also need a reminder of who you belong to."

"Nat," you attempted again before you were cut off by the sharp feel of her teeth biting the flesh under your ear.

With her hand still firmly holding you against the wall, airways fighting to get oxygen in, she lowered her hand down your ribcage and cupped your clothes cunt. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, knowing what was to come. It would have been easy for you to say stop or to have pushed Nat away entirely, but excitement was bubbling under the surface, and a large part of you wanted this. To be owned. To be claimed. To be reminded of what happens when you forget your place.

"You want daddy's fingers, don't you?" She muttered into your ear, her tone low, her voice raspy.

"Yes," you shamelessly breathed out.

In one quick move, your body was flipped, face pressed against the wall and hands on either side of your face. One of Natasha's hands held your hip in place, the other slithered between the wall and your stomach, slowly moving south. Deft fingers trailed a line up your thigh, reaching the waistband of your panties and wasted no time delving into the sticky mess she'd created.

"Did having Maria's hands all over you do this?" Nat asked, the disdain in her voice evident.

Having her so close to where you needed, yet refusing to appease your growing desire, had you shaking your head and wriggling your hips, trying to position your clit over her stubborn fingers. However, Natasha was unrelenting and moved her hand away entirely, resting on your jaw and yanking it back so you could face her.

"Tell me who your cunt belongs to," she demanded.

Behind the anger and lust that donned her eyes, once light sage, the shade of dark juniper, you saw a hollowness that encircled and sought to wreak havoc on the one certainty she held sacred - you. Of course, you had always made it clear that you were hers and she was yours, but despite her tough bravado, sometimes she also needed to be reminded. After all, the avenger was only human.

"You," your voice crackled in your throat, desperately trying to remain quiet yet sure in your words when all you wanted was to be mercilessly fucked against the wall, "you, you and only you."

"Good girl." she pecked the underside of your jaw. A smirk lined her smooth, balmed lips as she did so.

You could have cried with joy when Natasha released you and trailed her finger back down to your underwear. Instead, you settled for a soft moan of gratitude when you felt the pressure radiate off your body and the beginnings of lazy circles drawn over your clit.

Despite the urgency that flooded through you and the precarious place where your body was being taken, Nat showed no signs of being in a rush. The languish exploration of a place she knew all too well was still being undergone after gruelling minutes. A complaint had touched the tip of your tongue so many times, and as if the older woman knew when it was coming, she'd give you the tiniest taste of relief and settle back into the depth of endless torture.

It was too much. A lump was caught in your throat, your bottom lip was sore from the firm bite of your teeth, and your body fought to keep itself upright and steady while simultaneously trying to remain docile.

"Please, daddy," you begged, rucking your hips for the hundredth time, "Fuck me."

Immediately, you sensed the change in Nat's stature. She stood taller and closed the space between your bodies, pressing her chest firmly to your back and pushing you further into the wall. The cold paint was welcome against your flushed cheek and cut your gasp off short.

This newfound calm would only last a millisecond before two fingers penetrated the junction between your legs, and a fire set ablaze every living cell in your body.

There was no need to move anymore because the expeditious pace and vigour of Natasha's talented fingers left you sated - in addition to clouding your conscious mind. The only task necessary to focus on, thanks to the body and hand holding you in place against the wall, was breathing.

"Say it again," she ordered.

The moment her thumb made contact with your throbbing clit, a bolt of lightning plummeted through your spine and forced your neck to snap back with a silent whimper. Thankfully, the avenger's quick reflexes came to her aid. She moved her head in time for the back of your head to crash down on her shoulder. The thudded contact would have been painful had it not been for your senses being somewhat preoccupied with the brain-numbing ecstasy that was reaching its peak.

"Fuck me, daddy!"

Careful to make sure the force of her body would be enough to keep you upright, the auburnette wound her arm around your body and placed her hand firmly around your neck. Everything around you faded and ceased to exist; the floor beneath your feet was gone, and you were floating on cotton clouds. You dragged your nails down the wall in an effort to grasp onto something tangible. Instead, the mix of the dulled scratching sounds and emptiness in your palms left you increasingly consumed by the ethereal feeling of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

"I'm going to come, daddy," you cried out, surely extracting a snigger from someone on the other side of the wall, "Please keep going."

"You're mine," Natasha uttered into your ear, squeezing the sides of your throat harder. She ran her thumb faster over your clit, curved her fingers at the end of each thrust, and within the next few seconds, the stars in your visions illuminated a blacked-out night sky.

"Mine."

When you regained the ability to see again, you spun around and crashed your lips to Nat's. It took her by surprise, though quickly enough, she reciprocated and poured every ounce of love she had into the kiss.

"I'm yours," you whispered softly against her lips, "and only yours."

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#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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lendeah · 3 months

Text

The currents of destiny

Chapter 2: Power hungry.

Summary: G'Axir shows Astarion what his life would be like had Tav carried on with the Ascension ritual. Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader/Tav Word Count: 3.3k Tags: Heavy Angst, Psychological Trauma, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Psychological Torture (kind of), Emotional Manipulation, Verbal Abuse, but just chapter 2, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending.

[AO3 Link]

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NOTE: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS/TAGS BEFORE PROCEEDING. DARK CHAPTER. THANK YOU.

Before Astarion could protest or question further, a blinding white light engulfed him and G'axir both. He felt himself being pulled through space and time, his body weightless and disoriented.

Suddenly, he regained control of his body. And his breath was caught in his throat: he was in front of Cazador, his master still alive and well. His companions were a few meters away, watching him with apprehension. In an incredible turn of events, he had been transported back in time to just a few hours earlier. He attempted to call out to them, but his mouth moved on its own before he could say anything.

"Help me do this, please"

Astarion's heart dropped as he realized what was happening. He was a helpless spectator, forced to watch his own actions unfold without any control. He watched Tav's face, the conflict swimming in her eyes.

"We would kill all these people... seven thousand, Astarion. Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly.

"These people died years ago trust me on that. All that's left a feral spawn, desperate for blood. If we release them how many people will they kill? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?" he replied, but he sensed he was trying to convince himself just as much as Tav.

In the past, this was the point when Tav had refused to assist him. Now, however, she looked torn, her brows furrowed as she considered his offer.

"If I complete the ritual... think of the power I'll have. With me by your side we can we can save the city - we can save ourselves!" Astarion could hear the desperation in his own voice and he hated himself for it.

He could feel everything his mind was going through at that moment: fear, hunger for power, and a sense of desperate urgency. But amidst it all, he also saw the turmoil reflected in Tav's eyes. He could see the internal struggle she was facing, the weight of the decision weighing heavily on her shoulders, something he hadn't noticed before.

After a few seconds, he could sense the parasite quivering inside his mind, the telltale sign that Tav was opening her mind to him. The moment their minds linked, Tav's presence flooded his senses, and he saw himself through her eyes, standing in front of Cazador, his back to her revealing the intricate design of his scars. He felt her emotions; the trembling anxiety and deep concern, but also the unwavering trust she had in him.

Despite himself, he couldn't help but be curious about the potential outcome. The power and control that completing this ritual would bring were too enticing to ignore. And with Tav's help, he could finally get revenge on Cazador and be truly free.

After that, the vision blurred and flashed, a dizzying array of images assaulting Astarion's mind. He saw himself marking Cazador's back with the complex patterns that adorned his own back. Then, the image shifted and he was throwing his master into the very place that should have been his. In that moment, a blinding flash of red washed over Astarion and he felt an overwhelming surge of power coursing through his body. His senses were overloaded, his mind expanding to absorb all the knowledge and abilities that came with the ascension. It was like being struck by lightning, a rush that left him breathless and reeling. He repeated a series of words, an enchantment that felt unfamiliar on his tongue.

And after another flash, Astarion felt... nothing. No fear, no hunger, nothing at all. What is going on?

His surroundings slowly came into focus: the ground beneath him strewn with the bodies of his siblings, all lifeless and still. Blood stained the walls and floor, a stark contrast to the pristine stone that adorned them before. His body turned to look at Tav and his companions, who were still watching him from the sidelines. And they looked completely horrified at the sight.

"What have you done?!" Karlach screamed.

But his body, that other version of him, still didn't feel anything. The Ascended version of himself - stronger, more powerful than ever before – remained expressionless. A sickening realization hit him like a punch to the gut - his siblings, seven thousand souls, Sebastian, the Gur children... all dead because of him. And at that moment, Astarion felt a surge of guilt and shame wash over him. He couldn't believe what he had done. He had been consumed by his hunger for power, driven by his past self's desperation.

I didn't mean... I didn't think... Astarion stammered, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. But the words were lost in the void of his consciousness.

"Astarion…" Tav's voice was filled with disbelief and sadness. "Has this... really been worth it?" her voice cracked with disappointment, the sadness and guilt in her eyes too much for Astarion to bear.

He could feel the pain radiating off Tav. He needed to reach out, comfort her... but he couldn't. He was trapped inside his mind, a prisoner in his own flesh.

His body moved towards Tav slowly; reached out and cupped her cheek gently with its hand.

"I did it for you, for us," he whispered softly, running its thumb against her bruised and tear-streaked cheek.

And yet… as he saw the raw pain etched into her features; as he watched tears welling up in her eyes, spilling over and streaking down her cheeks; as he heard her whisper his name one more time – filled with sadness, disappointment, and an indescribable heartbreak – he felt nothing. His body felt nothing but pride and greed for more power. And the thought terrified him to his very core.

“Trust me, Tav,” His voice spoke on its own accord, before his consciousness was moving again.

He couldn't see anything else around him, just the overwhelming brightness that seemed to swallow him whole. When Astarion opened his eyes, the stone and debris had been replaced with pristine white walls adorned with elegant artwork. As he took in his new surroundings, a soft breeze tickled his skin and the gentle sounds of seagulls filled his ears. He was gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sparkling blue sea stretching out before him. He was no longer in the ruins of his past; he had been transported to a beautiful seaside bedroom.

Confusion filled his mind as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Was this another vision? Or was this reality?

His body turned from the windows to the space next to him, and he realized Tav was standing in front of him, looking... tired. And bruised.

"I really can't believe you let me do that... killing all those people..." Ascended Astarion chuckled darkly, "such a pleasant surprise."

He saw the guilt etched on her face, the sadness. Astarion felt his stomach churn at the thought that Tav might hate him for what he had done. But I didn't mean to...

Astarion's body walked towards Tav, reaching out to cup her face gently in its hand. But instead of the usual warmth and tenderness he felt towards her, there was only disgust. His body was repulsed by her weakness.

"I... I just wanted what was best for you," she replied softly, looking at her hands.

"You sweet, sweet thing," His body spoke in a mocking tone, the hand that once held such tenderness now gripping Tav's chin tightly, making her look at him. "I want what's best for you too, of course. And... one wicked turn deserves another."

Wait, what? Astarion felt a cold and ugly realization seep into his mind. Could he really mean... No, he wouldn't...

"Isn't that what you want, pet?" his body continued.

No. No she doesn't want it. What is this?! Stop this! "I-I just want you to be happy. I want us to stay together," Tav's voice trembled as she tried to reason with his body.

"Is that so?" His body countered. "You're the one that I want, the one that I love and you could be so much more if you want it. One little bite, and you could be mine, forever..." his ascended version said. But Astarion could taste de lie on his tongue. He wanted to make her his spawn.

And at that moment, Astarion felt pure unadulterated terror like he had never felt before. No! No no no! Astarion screamed, clawing at the invisible bars of his conscience. Please, no! Not her! Astarion's screams echoed inside his head as he watched his body move closer to Tav, his eyes glinting with hunger and desire for control. But it was no use. He was trapped inside his own nightmare, forced to relive the horrors of his past as he became the monster that once ruled over him.

His body was now leaning towards her, close enough to feel her soft breath against his lips, close enough to see the fear in her eyes – a fear he could not respond to. "Say it, love," it cooed dangerously, its voice a haunting echo of seductive promises.

"I... I..." Tav stuttered, her trembling hands tightly clutching the front of his shirt.

"Are you ready to join me? To accept this immortal gift? Say yes..." a commanding whisper slipped past his lips against his will, dark hunger coursing through his body. Astarion felt his soul scream in agony, unable to alter the horrible course he had set them on. Because he already knew that look in her eyes, that determination. It was the look she had when standing up for him against his siblings, the one she wore while letting him drink from her every night, the look she gave him on the night she confessed her love. The look that said she would do anything and everything for him.

Slowly, her lips moved, and a small whisper escaped them. "I love you..."

No! Astarion's soul shrieked inside his mind, but the body wasn't listening. Astarion tried to push back against the darkness, to will his body to do something, anything, to stop itself.

As tears streamed down her face, she whispered a tearful "yes." He longed to comfort her, to promise that everything would be okay and to protect her from the monstrous version of himself.

But it was too late.

His physical form gave into a cruel grin as she submitted to his will, and Astarion could feel its disgust at her degradation, at her weakness.

"I knew you'd come around..."

His body gently captured Tav's soft weeping face between his hands, his thumbs brushing away the mournful tears on her cheeks. "Such a good girl," his voice was honeyed darkness, "You'll be so beautiful... everlasting... My dark consort."

His body slowly pushed Tav down to the floor, her back resting against the cold stone. It was a cruel twist of fate that the one person who had shown him kindness and acceptance would now become his first slave. Tav closed her eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. The irony wasn't lost on Astarion, he was giving her a lover's kiss before death.

As his body pulled away from the kiss, his icy fingers traced down from her throat to the collar of her shirt. He slowly peeled it off to bare her neck, not breaking eye contact. "Tonight I shall drink every drop of your blood, own your body, kill your mind. It will hurt a bit, but worry not; the pleasure will be far greater than the pain." his body said, grinning wolfishly at Tav who was paralyzed in fear, yet rooted in love.

She was heaving, fear evident in her features. "P-please, just... be gentle."

No! Please, don't kill her! Not her! Astarion's conscience screamed for him to stop, to save the woman he loves from this fate. But he was powerless, trapped inside his own body as it lowered its head towards her exposed neck. The scent of her blood, warm and sweet filled his nostrils. His fangs bore into her flesh and released a mouthful of hot crimson life that made Astarion's instinctual heart pound with excitement even as his soul recoiled in horror.

He felt completely helpless as he witnessed his own body draining the life from Tav, not even able to look away. He was forced to listen to her soft gasps and whimpers, unable to do anything to stop it. The person he loved more than anyone else was slowly dying at his own hands. He could do nothing but watch as she lay on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood, her once vibrant skin now pale and her lips lacking their usual rosy color. Those same lips that he had loved to kiss and watch curve into an easy smile were now still and lifeless.

If he could have shed tears, he would have wept in despair and regret. If he were in his own physical form, he knew he would be retching now. But he could do nothing but scream and claw, the pain all consuming in his soul.

After what seemed like an eternity, his body finally pulled away from Tav's neck and stood up straight. He wiped the blood off his lips with the back of his hand and looked down at Tav's lifeless body with a sense of triumph.

"You were delicious as always, dear," his voice echoed inside Astarion's mind.

And just like that, he was once again drifting through the vast emptiness of space. But his exhaustion and defeat were so overwhelming that he couldn't bring himself to care.

When the light faded after what seemed like hours, Astarion found himself standing in a familiar place - Cazador's Palace once again. But this time, it was... different. At first, he couldn't pinpoint it. But then, he noticed: the paintings on the wall didn't depict his former master anymore. He froze as he watched the stranger with white hair and red eyes watching him from the portrait. The man's face was unknown, but something about him felt...familiar. Remnants from another life.

He couldn't look away from those piercing red eyes that seemed to bore into his soul. His body stepped closer, reaching out a hand to touch the painting.

And he realized, it wasn't a stranger; it was himself. Older, more weathered, and with a haunting look in his red eyes. The first time he was seeing his face in 200 years. His finger slid over the canvas, feeling the rough texture beneath his touch. There was pride emanating from this version of himself and it sent shivers down his spine.

What is this? he whispered inside his mind, his voice cracking with emotion.

The realm of possibilities... that might have unfolded had you embraced ascension... your destiny left unfulfilled... G'axir's voice echoed through his subconscious.

Astarion's stomach churned as his body moved around the room. Everything had been changed. The furniture was placed differently, new artwork adorned the walls, but it still retained its eerie and dark atmosphere as it did with his old master. As he traversed down a never-ending corridor, his steps echoed loudly in the eerie silence. Servants scurried past him, their heads bowed in reverence. But there was something off about them, almost as if they were under some sort of spell. Their movements were stiff and mechanical, and their eyes lacked any emotion or life.

After what felt like an eternity, his body finally reached the grand dining hall. Two servants dressed in impeccably crisp uniforms opened the massive doors for him. The room was filled with the warm, flickering light of numerous candles, illuminating the extravagant decorations adorning the walls. A long table stretched across the room, set with elegant china and silverware that could only belong to a king. But there was no one sitting at the table, creating a strange emptiness in the room. His body continued past the elaborate table, towards a magnificent throne that now stood at the far end of the room.

No. No, no, no.

There, atop the throne, draped in garments more regal than his master Cazador had ever let him wear, sat Tav. Her skin was nearly translucent, veins snaking just beneath the surface like tendrils of a creeping vine. Her eyes radiated an unnatural crimson glow that revealed her spawn nature. Tav's face held no familiarity in its gaze; only vacant submission under her crimson eyes. She looked nothing like the woman he had known - stubborn, fierce, and full of life. Now all that remained was an empty shell drained of hope and vitality, turned into a puppet. The sight of it made his stomach flip. This could not be happening. It was a nightmare.

He watched, appalled, as his body ascended the steps to the throne with a predatory grace. She, on the other hand, stood from the throne, head bowed in submission. He took his place on the seat, pulling Tav onto his lap. She sat there silently, not moving or uttering a single word.

I'm so sorry Astarion whispered brokenly inside his head.

And then, horror upon horror, his body began to speak.

"My beautiful pet," he murmured into the hollow of her neck. "Isn't it a delight to see how far we've come?"

She met the gaze of her new master with an impassive face - a puppet on strings. "Of course. I couldn't be happier, my lord," she replied, though her face remained impassive, not even a ghost of an emotion flickering in her eyes. Her body seemed rigid, save for the slight tremble that shook her form.

She didn't fight back or resist, which only fueled the anger of his ascended self. He could sense its thoughts; how she was now dull and uninteresting, lacking all the fire and fight that she once had.

"Ah, so compliant..." his mouth whispers, tracing a thumb along her jawline - a horribly intimate act that made Astarion's heart lurch in revulsion. "But you've been very bad, trying to sneak out at night," his body continued, pressing its lips against Tav's neck in a mock kiss. "And you know what we do to naughty pets..."

Astarion's mind was filled with revulsion and disgust at the scene happening before him. His worst fear had come true: he had used and abused her feelings until there was nothing left of the person she used to be. He couldn't believe he had almost let himself become so consumed by power. He couldn't believe he had begged for Tav to turn him into this. Into... his master.

He had everything he had ever wanted: power, control, and Tav by his side. And yet, holding all this in his grasp, his body felt empty. Devoid of any emotion. The ritual had given him everything he had hoped for, and he had paid the price with his soul.

"Now," the voice continued, "I think it’s time you show your master just how truly sorry you are."

Ascended Astarion's hand tightened around her throat as he dragged her towards his lips. She struggled against his grip, clawing at his arm and gasping for air, but he was too strong.

"NO! Astarion, please!" She begged, out of breath.

Astarion was panicking, searching for a way out of this nightmare. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free from his own body's control. As Astarion's mind reached its breaking point, G'Axir's voice echoed back in his head.

In your gaze... the aftermath unfolds... revealing the life consumed by an insatiable hunger for power. G'Axir supplies in his mind. Prepared to venture forth... into the next glimpse?

Astarion could feel his sanity slipping away as he pleaded, Stop this, I beg you! I will do anything but please get me the fuck out of here!

And finally, the vision stopped.

Note: Oof, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions, hard torturous version. I promise next chapters will be lighter than this one. Also, I think I have left my Astarion traumatized (even more). LMK if you want to be added to a taglist :)

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#astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #astarion x you

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tempe-brennans · 4 months

Text

and i'd come back if you'd just call

author's note: soulmate au + apocalypse

summary: you show up in jackson and turn joel's life upside down

warnings: implied smut and handsy touching

word count: 2.7k

There’s gray in his hair. He’s sure he should feel grateful for that–especially now–and some part of him does, he supposes.

He has people.

There’s Ellie and Tommy and Maria. You.

He’s not sure exactly what to do about you.

Besides, he’s more concerned about the ache in his back and the knots in his muscles–much more important problems than the love he’s beginning to think he still feels for you or the sunflower burning on his wrist.

There’s heating pads for his muscles and pain pills for his back–concrete solutions.

You, on the other hand, you’re young and fun and something he can’t quite get his fingers around.

And, you had left him–a fact he can’t quite forget. No matter how much he’d like to.

His throat is sore, scratchy in the way that tells him he spent last night snoring. Sighing as he sits up in bed, he cracks one shoulder and then the other.

His feet don’t want to find the floor. His body doesn’t want to hide behind the curtains in his own home because he can never be sure if you can see him.

Tommy thought he was so funny, making you two neighbors.

Joel does turn, eventually, let his feet land on the too cold floor. Toes slip into slippers he’d left in reach when he’d gotten into bed last night. He reaches blindly for the faded flannel robe that’s draped over the chair in the corner of his room.

He hasn’t had time for such indulgences, too busy running–from life, monsters. Anything. Before, he simply hadn’t wanted them.

But, Ellie had presented them both–a set, though the patterns didn’t match at all–as a gift and he hadn’t been able to say no.

He’s tired of being so sharp, so tough. In his own home, at least, maybe he can rest.

Home.

The thought brings his mind back to you, against his will, and as he pours his coffee he tries to see if your lights are on.

He can’t tell. The sun is working against him. He resolves himself to the fact that he’ll run into you at some point in town, so, really, what does it matter if you see each other sooner rather than later?

Besides, he’s almost positive you aren’t sitting in windowsills, pining after him.

He sits in the recliner Tommy had insisted he just had to have and welcomes the ability to put his feet up. It’s a relic–a handle raises and lowers the foot rest–but, somehow, it still works.

Taking a drink of his coffee, he thinks.

There’s no sound in the house, something Joel still hasn’t gotten used to since Ellie moved out.

I’m 20, she had said when Joel had asked if she was sure she wanted to leave, as if that was an explanation. Besides, don’t you want your own space?

He didn’t, if she wanted to know the truth. He wanted to hear her downstairs cooking breakfast or the sound of her snoring through the crack in her bedroom door.

He knew why she had gone, though. It was the same reason he had left home the moment he turned 18.

Freedom.

So, he could understand it, even if he wasn’t entirely fond of it.

He sees her every few days anyway.

Coffee now gone, he knows his day has to start, even if the town now feels like a loaded gun is waiting around every corner. He dresses–a flannel still happily coasting between cozy and too threadbare and jeans. He cracks his front door, feels the bite of the winter wind, and shuts it firmly.

An extra jacket wouldn’t hurt.

“I’m telling you,” Joel mumbles, “she probably doesn’t even remember.”

Tommy quirks a brow. “Are you kidding?” Shaking his head, he laughs. “You spent the better half of a year together. The tattoos–”

“I don’t wanna talk about the tattoos,” Joel dismisses. “Besides,” he mutters, “it was eleven months.”

“Oh,” Tommy hums. “My mistake.”

Silence and then, “You know someone will notice, right?”

Joel tilts his head. “You see me wearing a lot of short sleeves in the winter?”

“You can’t use the weather to hide forever, bro. The minute Ellie–hell, anybody–notices the two identical sunflowers on your arms?” He shakes his head. “Secrets out.”

“Yeah?” Joel asks. “What secret is that?”

His little brother leans in, whispers, “You can still find your soulmate after the apocalypse.”

“She’s the one that left.” Joel sighs. “Obviously, she didn’t care that we were soulmates.”

“You don’t even know why she left!” Tommy exclaims, exasperated.

Joel quirks a brow. “Somehow I haven’t had a lot of time, what with the apocalypse and all.”

His brother claps him on the shoulder. “You’ve got nothing but time now.”

Joel walks the streets of Jackson, spitting snow beginning to fall around him.

Maybe Tommy is right. It’s not like Joel doesn’t have some extra time on his hands, a strange concept after the last twenty years, he has to admit.

Maybe he should take advantage of it.

It’s that thought that’s rattling around in his brain when he collides with someone else.

“Sorry!” He reaches out, blindly, tries to catch the person or their belongings–something. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” a voice says. It’s a voice he’s never forgotten–couldn’t forget, even if he wanted to–and he kicks himself that this is the way he’d run into you again.

Literally.

“It was really,” you stand, catch sight of his face for the first time, “my fault.”

He’s older now, grayer and a little softer around the edges, but, still, he can see the moment recognition lights on your features.

“Joel?”

He nods, suddenly sheepish. For once, his mind is completely blank. It can’t begin to come up with an adequate greeting for an old flame that, maybe, still burns somewhere behind his rib cage. He settles on an all too casual, “Hi.”

You smile, a soft thing. “Hi.”

On instinct it seems, you take a step closer and hug him. Though it’s been years, the feeling of you pressed against him, your arms around him, it’s familiar.

He wants to hate it, but he doesn’t. Not even a little.

He barely resists the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, take a minute to inhale your scent, before you pull away.

“S’nice to see you.”

Joel nods. “You, too.” Somewhere between the truth and a lie.

“Your hair, it’s…softer,” you murmur.

“Yeah?” Joel reaches up, runs an idle hand through it. “Haven’t had a lot of time for haircuts, I guess.” He shrugs. “I kinda got used to it.”

You nod. “It’s been a long time.”

Joel quirks a brow. “Whose fault was that?”

It’s too sharp, too biting, and he can see the results flash across your face.

Shaking your head, you glare at him, blow out a breath. “I should have known you hadn’t changed.”

You turn on your heel, away from him, and he wants to reach out, tell you he’s sorry, but something won’t let him.

He thinks it’s his heart.

“I’ve changed plenty!” He calls after your shrinking form. “Changed enough to know I should stay away from you.”

You look over your shoulder–just for a second–long enough to cut him to the core. “The feeling is mutual!”

He sighs and continues on his own path, towards his own lonely house, entirely too close to you for comfort.

“So.” Ellie sighs. “That went well.”

Joel chuckles, rolls his eyes. “You think?”

“We can fix it,” she says, sitting on the couch closest to him. “It’ll be fine.”

“Sure about that?,” he asks. “It’s not a leaky sink, you know.”

Her eyes light up in the very particular way that tells Joel she’s had an idea he won’t be fond of.

He’s suddenly nervous.

“That’s it,” she exclaims.

“What’s it?”

Ellie leaves the room, obviously in search of something, and ignores him.

“Ellie,” he calls after her. “Ellie, what’s it?”

It’s her scheming that puts him on your porch, in fact, toolbox in hand and looking for something to fix.

Real or fake, it hadn’t really mattered to Ellie.

He should never have told her he had been a contractor.

The door opens and you glare at him, unsurprisingly.

“What do you want?”

He spits it out, before he can change his mind, run back home and hide.

“I’m sorry for earlier.” He shakes his head. “You left…before. And, I was angry and seeing you again…” He trails off, settles on simplicity. “I’m sorry.”

Something in your face softens as you step aside to let him in.

“I’m sorry for leaving, you know.”

You take him off guard, turn his pulse to a gallop.

“I was…I was afraid,” you murmur, skipping over his own apology in a way that’s entirely you.

Of course it’s the way you’d let him know things are okay.

“I should have told you that, though, instead of disappearing.”

He nods, swallows down a memory he doesn’t exactly want to relive right now, whispers, “It’s okay.”

You nod, smile at him. “You want a drink? Some food?”

He nods, places the toolbox in the floor next to your couch.

“That’d be nice.”

Joel isn’t sure how long the two of you have been talking–minutes or hours. Maybe days. Easy familiarity settles over the pair of you, and things are like they used to be.

He’s glad for it.

“Were there others?” Joel asks, words slipping out before he can stop them.

It’s the question that he somehow desperately wants the answer to and also never wants to hear.

You nod. “A few.” But, then, “None like you.”

It’s more honest than he expected, like your heart has opened to him once again.

You’re vulnerable. He knows you hate that.

“That makes sense.” He nods, rising to his feet, hand curling around the handle of his toolbox, imagining you want him to take his leave. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”

You laugh, look at him with something he would have called affection, once upon a time. “Yeah, you are, Miller.”

Something buzzes inside of him at the knowledge he can still make you laugh, even after everything, and he ducks his head, starts to head for the door.

“Joel?”

He turns, finds apprehension on your features.

He aches to set you at ease.

“Yeah?”

“Could you…would it…” You shake your head, shoulders squaring like you’re heading into a fight. “Would you want to stay? The night? With…with me.”

In a minute, he forgets it all. The pain and heartache and anger disappears with one look at your eyes.

“Yes.”

Simple–the way it’s always been between the two of you.

You crawl on top of him in a way he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined over the years.

His hands find a resting place on either of your hips, squeeze the flesh there lightly.

“Hi,” you murmur, grin on your face.

“Hi.” He smiles.

It’s different when you’re with your soulmate.

Joel had been with others, sure.

Tess comes to mind, but he quickly shakes the thought away–along with the memory of her death.

But, every time, even when stars popped up behind his eyelids and warmth erupted through his every limb, it wasn’t what it had been with you.

The best way he could think to describe it was…more.

As you lean down, press a kiss to his lips, he finally admits to himself how much he’d missed it. You.

Joel feels you pull away and squeezes you closer. “Where you goin’?,” he mumbles, already half asleep.

“Shirt,” you whisper.

He shakes his head, nuzzles his nose into the hollow of your throat.

Chuckling softly, you say, “S’winter, Joel.”

He holds you even closer–if that’s possible. “I’ll keep you warm.” Then, just to tease, fingers dance over your hip bone, inches from the crux of your thighs. “Any way you want.”

“Joel…”

“Or, are you too old for this game?” He hums, getting a rise out of you too tempting to ignore. “You get soft on me while you were away?”

Your own hand–cold from it’s trip beyond the faded quilt that covers you both–dances along the soft skin of his stomach, curls around his still too sensitive length. He jumps, hisses out a breath, interest already simmering at the base of his spine.

“I can still play,” you purr. “Can you?”

Your hand works him over, languid strokes finding a pattern that makes his skin buzz.

Joel rises, mouth desperate to find yours.

He’s always liked to be kissed–especially by you, especially when you’re touching him the way you are.

You indulge him, lips parting to let his tongue tangle with your own. He can’t help but grin into the kiss.

In the morning, he wakes alone. Part of him isn’t shocked. Part of him is heartbroken all over again.

Quickly, he gets dressed–avoiding mirrors with the hopes of missing any evidence you’d left behind of the night before.

He goes to Tommy’s, doesn’t even look towards your house as he walks down the street.

“You’ve been in love before.” Tommy shrugs. “Maybe it could happen again. Nothing says you have to be with your soulmate.”

Joel hadn’t thought about it when he’d fallen in love with Sarah’s mother.

He hadn’t had much choice, if he’s honest. One look at her and he had been done for.

So, the fact she didn’t have a sunflower on the soft skin of her forearm wasn’t of much consequence. The fact she had her own tattoo–purple dahlia petals curling around her own wrist–had never mattered to her either.

They had shared a life and love and had turned that love into something that lived outside of them.

Sarah.

It was only a few months after she was born that Joel had woken up alone to the sound of Sarah’s crying.

He had adjusted, though. The two of them had made a team and found happiness all on their own.

Until…well, Joel didn’t really like to think about that day–that last day. He preferred to imagine her laughing, head thrown back in joy.

“I know,” he murmurs. He adds, almost under his breath, “I don’t think I want to fall in love. Not if it’s not with her.”

Tommy ducks his head, sheepish all of a sudden.

“What is it?”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”

He leans forward, insistent. “Tommy, what is it?”

“She told Maria that she was…thinking of leaving Jackson.”

Joel is off Tommy’s couch and out the door before Tommy can ask where he’s going.

Joel suspects he knows.

His knocks are incessant, barely a pause between them.

“C’mon,” he murmurs to himself. “Please don’t be gone.”

The door opens, shocking Joel, and he almost falls through it.

“You can’t leave Jackson,” he pants. There’s an ache in his side, a pulling at muscles that scream with use more often than they don’t these days. He’s certain he shouldn’t have run to make sure he caught you.

You shake your head, hands coming to rest on either side of his face.

It’s a gesture full of affection and hope ignites in his gut.

“I’m not leaving,” you murmur.

Joel’s tongue is heavy, suddenly too thick to form a reply. “You…you’re not?”

“No.” Gently, your thumb rubs back and forth over his cheekbone. “I thought of something to stick around for.”

“Yeah?” Joel hums. “What’s that?”

“You.”

Joel feels the heat flush his cheeks. The emotions he really feels are too much–too real–so, he settles for a joke.

“That makes sense.” He nods. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”

“Yeah.” You laugh, duck your head for a minute before your eyes meet his again. “Yeah, you are, Miller.”

Later that night, with most of your closet mingled with his own, he pulls you close to him in bed. His lips ghost over your forehead and an arm wraps around your side.

He glances down at his wrist, takes in the bright yellows of the sunflower petals. With gentle fingers, he finds your wrist, brings it to his mouth and kisses the yellow of your own petals.

There’s gray in his hair, but, right now, he couldn’t feel more grateful for it.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #rebeccawrites

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moog-rt · 3 months

Text

GO TO HELL [ch. 2]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Chapter One

➨ Chapter Two

Next: Chapter Three

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

Warning(s): daddy issues, invasion of personal space

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER TWO

Once again, you found yourself having no clue what you signed up for. At this point, it was on you. You should have learned your lesson the last time you put your trust in someone.

This time, instead of being booted through a portal into hell, you were being dressed up like a doll. The outfit you arrived in wasn’t ‘hellspawn’ enough so Charlie was throwing a plethora of outfits at you and seeing what stuck. You had to admit, you liked how the new clothes looked on you, but Charlie would scrutinize them before changing them again.

Personally, you thought you were being a pretty good sport about it.

Just when you thought it was over, she dragged you in front of her vanity before darting out of the room. This worried you. It was safe enough to assume she was going to do something with your hair or makeup, but what did she need that wasn’t already here?

You began looking around her bedroom, taking in the details of the rich maroon wallpaper and the way the wood paneling complemented it in both shape and color. Her bed was truly something to be envious of, though. It seemed to be even bigger than a king, and the canopy frame allowed her to have translucent and opaque purple curtains draped in layers above it.

It was possible the entirety of the hotel could look like this once it was thoroughly scrubbed down and decorated. A diamond in the rough, if you will.

You could probably afford to stick around for a day to help deep clean. They were doing so much for you despite being a stranger who had (politely) broken in. Had you been in their shoes, you would have done them in with an iron skillet first and asked questions later (in the courtroom).

You jumped as Charlie came scrambling back in with what seemed to be tubes of paint. You couldn’t help but feel concerned for what was to come.

The paint was squeezed into a bowl with a squelching sound similar to a ketchup bottle towards the end of its life. She reached across you to grab a makeup brush and began mixing it together.

Where did she think she was gonna put that?

You barely had time to react before she dragged the cold wet brush across your cheek. It only took her a minute to completely lather your face. You dared to look at yourself in the vanity mirror as she moved on to cover the rest of your exposed skin. Her gentleness tickled as the brush swept across your arms. She kept it rather neat to your surprise.

“Don’t worry. We just need to get the base down, and then we can spruce it up!” she chirped.

When you asked what there was to get ready for, this was not what you imagined. You could understand not wanting to look like a bum when meeting new people, but to go this far… Meeting a parent shouldn’t even matter if you’re not dating their kid. There was nothing you had to prove to Charlie’s father. Especially since you wouldn’t see him again so long as everything went according to plan.

The actual reason Vaggie suggested this was far more reasonable.

No, they weren’t just doing this to make you look pretty. They wanted to hide you completely. The idea was to make you look like a demon to the best of their ability in hopes of avoiding any unwanted attention. You understood why. Your first hour or so in Hell was pretty traumatic to say the least.

Vaggie went on to list all the things that could happen to you if you were found as a human, which did not help your nerves one bit. You could end up on someone’s dinner plate, or your teeth could be sold on the not-so-black market for a pretty hefty price. Your bucket list may be lengthy, but having your parts being used as someone else’s decor was sure as shit not on it.

Charlie tried to reassure you that her childhood home wouldn’t be so dangerous. However, she couldn’t promise her dad would have a positive reaction to a human wandering around, so it would still be safer to go in disguise. It would also draw far less attention from the staff, meaning you wouldn’t be stuck there so long.

You really got the vibe that she had daddy issues from how much she emphasized it being a quick trip. Not to mention her reluctance to go in the first place…

Charlie finished up the base coat of paint and moved on to add details to make it more realistic. She then adjusted your hairstyle to cover your hairline where the edges of paint were most noticeable.

“Okay, okay, now the final touch…” she said as she bounced over to her closet behind you.

You couldn’t see what she was grabbing. You only felt something being placed on your head. Before you could look in the mirror, Charlie invaded your view and shoved a pair of glasses onto your face.

You were dragged over to her golden cheval mirror.

“Grand reveal!”

You certainly didn’t look human anymore. Your natural complexion was completely hidden, and the thing Charlie placed upon your head was a pair of fake horns, which she was bobby-pinning in place to ensure they’d stay put. The outfit itself you really liked, but the glasses she had chosen were in the shape of large hearts with bold red tint.

You felt so goofy.

You’d rather be offered up to one of the demonic cannibals than be caught looking like this in the living world. Your only solace was that the majority of people in Hell looked even stranger than you. That, and the amount of coverage you had made you feel like you were wearing a mask that you could hide behind..

“You look…amazing!” Charlie sang, hopping up and down a little. You may have felt a little embarrassed by your get-up, but the joy on her face nearly made it worth it. “Come on, we have to show Vaggie!”

You trailed behind her down the stairs where Vaggie was waiting to send the two of you off. She couldn’t tag along due to prior arrangements. If you remembered correctly, she was going to be interviewing potential guests for the hotel. Real guests rather than a human who had washed up on their doorstep.

“Vaggie, Vaggie, look!” Charlie called. “You would never guess she was human, right?”

Vaggie looked you up and down analytically before locking onto your face.

“It turned out pretty good, but, uh…” She gestured at her own eyes rather than pointing at you. “What’s with the shades?”

“Well…Her eyes were the only thing I couldn’t really disguise, so the sunglasses will keep them from being visible!” Charlie said with a big grin, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. “They’re also so cute.”

She and you must have very different tastes, but who knows, this could be what was trendy here in Hell. Even if it wasn’t, she made a good point. Of the few demons you’d seen, none of their eyes looked like a typical human’s.

Two beeps from outside the hotel were your cue it was time to head out.

“It’ll go great,” Vaggie said to Charlie, rubbing her back.

“Right…we’ll be back soon!” Charlie said as she led you outside where a white and pink limo was waiting.

Oh. So she was rich then.

You figured the hotel itself wasn’t too cheap, but the condition it was in didn’t make it seem like it would break the bank. This was a clue into Charlie’s status that had yet to be revealed to you.

The drive through town allowed you to take in the sights rather than watching it all blur by whilst running for your life. There was a good range of shops between ‘normal enough’ to ‘I’d expect no less from Hell.’ Some sold electronics and furniture while others advertised hitman services.

You were pretty sure you passed a vending machine that sold hard drugs.

Watching the denizens made you thankful that you were in the safety of the car. A woman in a business suit doing lines off a public bench before waltzing into the city library. A sketchy dude hanging around the outside of a rundown playground… He seemed to be mocking one of the kids before it launched itself at him, going straight for the jugular.

You looked away before you witnessed something you’d regret.

Charlie caught your eye, shooting you a wide grin. You did your best to smile back.

You wondered where her father would fall on the spectrum of people here. Would he be out for blood like the majority of folks you’d seen? If so, you’d be with Charlie trying to get out of there as quickly as you could.

“Park down here, please!” you heard Charlie say to the driver after a while.

Your surroundings hadn’t changed much from where you started out. The city did seem to be a bit more residential in this area, but the level of chaos remained the same.

You followed Charlie out of the vehicle, expecting to walk into one of the many townhouses lining the uneven street. Instead, she took you down a few blocks and around a corner. It was as if she didn’t want your arrival to be known. To be fair, you didn’t either. The thought of any interactions with Hell-dwellers beyond Charlie and Vaggie made you nervous.

You found yourself standing in front of tall golden gates attached to a stone wall that encircled a grand manor. It was massive, at least twice the size of the hotel, with elegant gold detailing around the windows and pillars. Even though it was gorgeous, you were a little thrown off by its odd shapes and red stripes that reminded you of a circus tent.

It was quite the niche aesthetic…

The front door opened as soon as the two of you reached the top of the stairs, greeted by a small red demon. He had black and white striped horns and wore a cute little suit that reminded you of a butler.

“Welcome back, miss,” he said, dipping his head a bit as he stepped aside to let us in. “I was unaware you would be visiting. Is your father expecting you?”

“Oh, no…” Charlie began fiddling with her hair. “We were just passing by when I remembered I wanted to…pick something up! It’s good to see you. I wish we could catch up, but my friend and I are on a tight schedule.”

Her laugh was forced as she grabbed your shoulders and began pushing you down the hall, ignoring the way you stumbled along. She told you that there would be a room where her dad kept an array of magical tools and artifacts. Most were gifts to earn his favor, she explained.

It made you wonder what sort of industry he was a part of where people were trying to suck up to such a degree.

Pictures lined the hallways with the majority having Charlie as the subject. Their golden frames contrasted nicely against the striped red wallpaper.

You couldn’t help but stop to look at one from when she was in an awkward preteen phase of her life. She was quick to notice and pull you away with a red face. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

Your relationship with Charlie was nothing deep. The two of you had only met the day before, afterall. But seeing bits of her past like this felt intimate in a way one would share memories with a friend. You hoped it didn’t embarrass her too much.

Maybe you would show her some of your baby pictures to make up for it later.

“Oh, this was my old bedroom! One second, there’s something I do want to grab,” she said as she pulled you to a stop before darting inside.

You peeked in through the doorway. It was similar to her current bedroom in some ways, another canopy bed with a plethora of drapery around it and a beautiful vanity with a soft glow emanating from behind it. Yet it was clear that it once belonged to a child from the stuffed animal collection and softer color palette.

Charlie had wandered over to a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, rummaging through it as she searched for whatever it was she remembered.

You waited outside the doorway. It felt inappropriate to enter a place so sentimental to someone who was largely still a stranger to you. Seeing so many portraits from her past already seemed like a breach of her privacy even though you couldn’t help it. It’s not like you could wander around the halls with your eyes closed.

As you turned away from her room, a small man came strutting around the corner, donned in all white save for a red waistcoat and black knee-high boots. He was about to proceed down the hall perpendicular to yours before skidding to a halt.

His head whipped around to face you, and you froze.

Shit.

His pale blonde hair, ghostly white skin, and rosy spots on his cheeks made him nearly identical to Charlie. He had to be either the father or a brother that she had yet to mention.

He stared into your damn soul, unmoving. You wondered if he could see right through your disguise. Through the paint on your skin to the blood that pulsed underneath. Past your skull to the thoughts racing through your mind.

You stood stalk still in your spot, as well, staring right back at him. You felt it was the only thing you could do. It was either that or book it, but you weren’t paying attention to the turns you took to get to this point. You’d be lost in a heartbeat. Imagine how stupid you’d look then.

So you opted to harness your inner statue. You didn’t dare move a muscle in case–by some miracle–he could only detect movement. If you were lucky, he would shrug and continue strutting away.

Manifest…manifest…manifest–

“Who are you?” He demanded in a deadpan voice as he jabbed his cane in your direction.

Shittt.

“I’m–uh…” Your eyes darted to the side before landing back on him. “Who are you?”

Meeting the parents was never your forte.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Dad!”

Thank fucking god.

His eyes lit up and a massive sharp-toothed smile spread across his face, completely forgetting about you the instant Charlie entered the hallway.

“Charlie!” he practically screamed, arms spreading wide into the air. You had to duck out of the way as he threw himself onto his daughter. One would think he was attempting to squeeze the life out of her with how tightly he was holding on.

She looked miserable.

You did your best to hide your smile at the exchange. You could remember all the times you were embarrassed by overly affectionate loved ones shamelessly kissing and cooing at you in front of your peers. You were sure that at least half the time it was done so with malicious intent.

On the flip side, it was always quite enjoyable to witness it happening to others.

“I know, Dad. It’s good to see you, too…” She was patting his back, an attempt to signal she was ready to be let go.

“Why didn’t you tell me you would be visiting? We could have planned something fun to do ahead of time–”

“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing! We weren’t originally planning on dropping by, but I remembered there was something I wanted to grab, so…” she lied.

You were unaware she hadn’t given her dad any sort of heads up at all. You felt bad that you were sneaking in without his knowing. Especially since he seemed so overjoyed just to get to see her.

“Speaking of,” she redirected, stepping aside and turning to you. “This is one of my friends–”

“Ah, it is so nice to meet you!” he eagerly cut in.

You were only going to exchange a small wave, but he practically jumped on you, grabbing your hand and shaking it with exuberance.

“My goodness, Charlie never brings her friends over. This–this is so exciting!”

He was so close that it gave you goosebumps. He looked less human than Charlie, but not quite animalistic like the other demons you’d seen. His red pupils were much smaller than hers, bordering on snake-like slits, and all of his teeth were akin to daggers. She must have gotten her more human qualities from her mother.

You did your very best to smile as genuinely as you could.

“It’s nice to meet you, too–uh–Sir.”

He drew back, finally giving you space. Then his eyes lowered to your mouth.

You quickly sealed your lips.

Was he looking at your teeth? They wouldn’t give you away, would they? Charlie and Vaggie had mostly dull teeth aside from their abnormally sharp canines. If he asked, you could tell him you wanted to see how far you could file them down…

Worrying about your appearance made you uncomfortably aware of the paint coating your skin. It felt so thick all of a sudden. So sticky but also dry. And the fake horns were so heavy. God, you wanted nothing more than to rip it all off.

Your heartbeat was picking up speed.

Did his eyebrow just twitch?

His eyes narrowed slightly but that grin held fast. He briefly looked down to his hands before returning to your face, rubbing his gloved fingers together. It was as if touching you left an uncomfortable feeling behind that he was trying to get off.

“I’m glad we got to run into you, but we’re on a bit of a time crunch, so we should get going,” Charlie said, laughing nervously as she tugged on your sleeve.

“It was nice meeting you,” you repeated with a dip of your head before following her down the hall.

You could feel his eyes on you while you walked away. As you turned the corner, you glanced back to confirm you were just paranoid.

His red eyes were locked onto you. He hadn’t moved from his spot, and his smile was gone.

Relief washed over once you were out of his line of sight. There’s no way he knew you were human. He couldn’t have been able to tell from just your teeth.

But then why did he look at you so strangely?

Your anxiety began to let up more and more as you got further away. Glancing over at Charlie, you could tell she, too, was bothered. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips pursed. She kept silent until you finally arrived at the room you came here for in the first place.

It was filled with shelves that held a wide variety of objects. From books, to statues, to strange glowing orbs on pedestals…

If you could find what you needed quickly, none of this would matter. You wouldn’t have to worry about Charlie’s dad figuring you out. You would be back home, safe and sound.

Where it was a good thing you were human.

Where the only things you had to worry about were bills and boy troubles.

“Alrighty,” Charlie said, closing the door after you. “I’m not really sure where to start, but some of these should have labels or descriptions or something.”

That was reassuring.

You each got to work, filing through piece by piece. She wasn’t wrong about some being labeled, though their names often told you little to nothing about what they actually were or what they could do.

As you went to flip through an old book similar in appearance to Devon’s, it was engulfed in purple flames. You gasped, backing away and colliding with something behind you.

Spinning around in hopes of preventing whatever you bumped into from falling, you came face to face with Charlie’s father.

Your heart stopped.

“Might I help you find something?” The smirk adorning his lips as he leaned closer was not comforting whatsoever. You were beginning to understand Charlie’s distress. This man had no concern for personal space.

Wide-eyed, you glanced over at Charlie who looked nearly as alarmed as you to see him there. You side-stepped away so that you were no longer sandwiched between him and the shelves.

“Dad…” Charlie drawled. “Don’t you have something more important to be doing right now?”

“What could possibly be more important than my favorite daughter? It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you!” he said, facing her.

“I’m your only daughter,” Charlie groaned.

“Uh-huh, which is why I want to spend as much time with you as I can~” he sang as threw an arm around her shoulder. “Say, have I gotten to show you my newest ducks yet?”

“No…look we’re really busy right now.”

“Right, right. Looking for something that you need,” he said, waving his hand in the air as he recalled her previous words. “In this room of all places?”

That made Charlie stiffen.

“Ah, well–uh…”

“She was just showing me around while we were passing,” you spoke up. You were so thankful that your smile didn’t falter when his half-lidded eyes turned to you once more. “It would have been a shame to have missed out on so many amazing relics.”

“I’m sure,” he hummed. “If you’re curious about any in particular, I can tell you all about them.”

He relinquished Charlie to step up to you again.

“Were you a historian when you were alive?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Ah…No…” you said, looking off to the side. There was a moment of silence before you realized he was probably expecting you to specify your occupation. “I was a clinical technician. Items such as these would be interesting to anyone though, I’d imagine.”

“And what did you do to wind up here in Hell?”

What?

“Um, I didn’t…”

“Many would assume working in the medical field would earn you a one-way ticket straight to Heaven, so what could you have possibly done to land yourself here?” His tone turned serious, eyes narrowing.

You needed to calm yourself down. He was probably just interrogating you to ensure his daughter was keeping good company. You’d likely do the same if your child was surrounded by a bunch of sinners with some of the worst track records known to man.

What answer could you give him that was justified enough but didn’t make you sound like a psycho?

You stole a bunch of human blood and used it in a satanic seance.

He didn’t need to know that.

Premarital sex?

No, he had no business knowing about your sex life either.

“I cheated on a test once,” you answered with a guilty smile.

He gave you the most deadpan stare you’d ever seen.

“Premarital sex, too.”

“That’ll do it!” Charlie chimed in.

“That’s the whole reason Charlie and I met actually,” you said, trying to redirect the conversation.

Both gave you odd looks. That probably wasn’t the best way to follow up that statement, but oh well.

“She told me all about how I can redeem myself at the hotel she’s running! I hope to one day reclaim my virginity until I find that special someone.”

You smiled sweetly in hopes that it would earn you a few more brownie points. Weren’t you just the most precious little sinner?

“That’s right! She only recently got here, and she’s already seeking redemption! Isn’t that fantastic?” Charlie placed herself at your side, presenting you as if you were a class project. “She hasn’t even heard about the extermination yet!”

“The what?” You turned to face her.

“Don’t worry about it,” she waved you off.

Her father had both hands propped upon his apple cane as he squinted at the two of you. You were clearly hiding something but he had yet to figure out what.

Trumpets began to blare from right beside you, causing even more strain on your frantic heart.

“Hehe, sorry, one second,” Charlie said, pulling her phone out of her pocket to check whatever notification caused that horrid noise. There was a moment of silence as she read the message before her eyes widened, and she went slack jawed. “Shit.”

Well. That didn’t sound good.

Her father looked concerned about her reaction, as well, placing himself at her side with a hand on her arm as he looked up at her.

“Is everything alright, sweetie?” he asked in a soft tone.

“It’s nothing,” she shook her head, pulling away from him. “It was nice seeing you, Dad, but we really have to go now.”

She grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the room with her, leaving her father behind without a second glance.

Next Chapter

♡ ♡ ♡

tag list: @spookysisters @for-hearthand-home @crescent-z

#lucifer magne #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #demon summoning #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #occult #daddy issues #charlie magne #charlie morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer

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danikamariewrites · 6 months

Note

can i please request azriel x reader who is a brilliant inventor, she is groundbreakingly smart and she comes up with solutions quicker than anyone. She is very known and well-respected for her quick mind through all the courts and lords and courts try to recruit her for reader to be in their courts. She invents the best inventions like:

- a magical mirror that allows users to glimpse other courts and realms during the annual Starfall event, providing a unique and enchanting view of the world beyond their own.

- Enchanted gemstones that can regulate temperature and create pleasant, cool microclimates within Summer Court, making the sweltering summer season more bearable.

- Quills imbued with the magic of the Night Court, which write in a language only decipherable by those who have undergone the Night Court’s trials, ensuring secret communication.

- Cloaks made from enchanted materials that can protect wearers from various magical and physical threats in the dangerous world of Prythian.

- Mechanical attachments for Illyrian warriors that temporarily enhance their flying abilities, allowing for greater maneuverability and speed during aerial combat.

she makes personal devices for the ic aswell. like gauntlets to help enhance hand-to-hand combat or magical swords, and so on❤️❤️ i’m a woman in stem so this is just amazing idead fr

Inventor

Azriel x reader

A/n: omg anon ur brain is insane, like this is such a good idea!

Warnings: none

Walking in the house Azriel heard you humming from work room. He smiled to himself as he framed the door open. You were sat at your desk working on your latest invention.

Azriel loved your brain. It is a vast, endless sea of ideas and knowledge. Each creation a new unique wave flowing from you. You grew up on the continent and attended a school that encouraged creativity. Once you moved to the Night Court you made a name for yourself.

Every court wanted you to solve their problems or help create something for agriculture or to consult on new medical technology. And of course you’d help. You’d never want anyone to suffer. Once you told Azriel that inventing things to help people, big or small, made you unbelievably happy.

Azriel walked up behind you placing a kiss on the back of your head. You turn to face him and Az jumps, not expecting your giant magnified eyes. Removing your goggles you smile up at your mate. “Hi babe, how was your day?”

“It was good. What are you working?” He asks looking down at what you are currently tinkering on. “Oh, it’s a small light for Nesta. It can attach to her book so she can read in bed without bother Cassian.” You said with a giggle. Azriel rolled his eyes at his brothers childish complaints.

“If this one works I’m going to make ones for Gwyn and Em too. This is the third prototype, I can’t seem to get the button right so fingers crossed it works.” You pick up the small light and click the button.

The small, but bright light illuminates your work space. Your lips break out into a wide grin. As you hold up the light Azriel smiles at you. “That’s amazing my love! Excellent job, Nesta is going to love it.”

Turning it off you set the book light down. “I’m going to get a box for this, will you fly me to the House of Wind so I can give it to Nes?” “Of course love. I’ll wait here for you.” You kissed his cheek and hurried out of your work room.

He looked around in awe of everything hanging or on shelves in the room. Azriel always prided himself on knowing what was knew or what you made improvements on. It was a fun game for him.

Your voice broke him from his thoughts as you tugged him out of the room. Your excitement to deliver something so small to your friend infectious.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 5 months

Note

Can I request this. A dancer reader with pokemon scarlet and violet. Reader has meloetta, oricorio, scream tail, primarinna, hoopa and toxtricity.

If you want the lore on this reader. They are a singer whose family was said to be the descendants of a siren.

This reader has never caught a pokemon with a pokeball. The pokemon that join reader just travel with them. This reader uses sign language or writing to communicate as their voice is dangerous as it can charm anyone ho hears it if they aren't related to reader from their dad's side.

Reader went to this school was near to her mom's childhood home.

Meloetta and Primarinna (who ia an alpha pokemon) were able snap people out of Reader's voice and joined reader so they don't hurt anyone with their voice.

Toxtricity is protects reader from being kidnapped and overprotective and is resistant to their voice because punk rock.

Hoopa follows reader as reader is interesting.

Scream tail was a pokemon her grandma asked to protect reader.

As a dancer, you've made quite a name for yourself in the Paldea region--almost rivalling celebrities like Ryme and Iono.

People everywhere find your performances stellar, especially when your Pokémon provided backup dancing and singing.

A year prior to the Treasure Hunt, you did a show for the Festival of Masks in Kitakami, telling a moving story about the "Loyal Three" and Ogerpon.

Ofc you regretted it after learning that was a false narrative.

Speaking of your team, it was quite peculiar...consisting of an Alpha 'mon with menacing red eyes, two mythicals, an Ancient Paradox 'mon that somehow got out of the crater, and a perfectly normal Toxtricity and Oricorio.

However, you don't speak much, preferring sign language and/or writing as ways of communication..and your friends wondered why...

Although after becoming close with Arven, Penny, and Nemona (and eventually Carmine and Kieran), you wrote them all messages detailing your past.

You're a descendant of sirens, appearing entirely human yet having the alluring voice of one.

You basically know Hypnosis..but it wasn't something you were proud of, because you've charmed people into following your voice, and...it almost always ended badly.

Unfortunately, that made you a prime target in several kidnappings from evil organizations in other regions.

They falsely believed your family could somehow learn Pokémon moves and became obsessed with harnessing that same power..even though it had nothing to do with Pokémon at all.

Since moving to Paldea, it's become your safe haven, especially since your mom's childhood home was here and you could retreat to it whenever you wished.

After your grandma gave you Scream Tail to accompany you during your many journeys, the rest of your team sorta formed itself.

You never believed in using pokeballs, and thus they followed you wherever you went (ofc as long as it was allowed).

Oricorio was always perched on your shoulder to scout out high places and be your number 1 cheerleader (in the case of the pom-pom variant).

Amped!Toxtricity became your bodyguard and a friend you could rely on after learning its Punk Rock ability made it quite resistant to your voice. So you'd make small talk with it, although you still don't say too much.

It's ready to throw hands wherever and whenever you're being bothered--by students, staff, and tourists alike.

Alpha!Primarinna was a lass you discovered at the Wistful Fields one summer day, having come a long way from Hisui (like Bloodmoon Ursaluna).

Normally Alphas are belligerent, but she felt a sudden connection to you and obeyed you right on the spot. A giant and loyal protector.

Hoopa travelled through space and time to meet you, finding you quite interesting...and grinned deviously after you managed to win its prison bottle at an auction.

It almost caused chaos at the mart, tricking you into opening it, but even you were able to tame its Unbound form and convince it to become Confined again.

Finally, Meloetta was lured to one of your performances and provided beautiful backup vocals, and ever since then you two have done many duos as dancer/singer.

Her and Primarinna are the only ones who can snap people out of your spells. They know you hate to hurt others but sometimes humans just push your buttons and...well...next thing you know, the two ladies are scrambling to save them from walking through hostile territory to greet you.

Fortunately, those events happen rarely now and you've been able to form meaningful friendships.

Since nobody in your team is stuck in a pokeball, they usually hang out at your mom's childhood home or in your dorm--but Toxtricity and Oricorio insist on being with you in-class.

As far as everyone's reactions go...

.......

Nemona is PSYCHED to see you have a team specifically themed around music and song (except for Hoopa, although it knows Throat Chop yet seldom uses it), always wanting to battle them.

Also converses with you in sign language. I hc she learned it so she could communicate with deaf/HOH trainers so they can battle with her, too, free of judgement.

Penny is both impressed and terrified tbh--especially with the Alpha who has looks that could kill if it weren't for your unique connection with the giant water/fairy. But her Sylveon gets along with Primarinna surprisingly well.

Arven almost didn't believe you were a descendant of sirens until he witnessed you hypnotize a substitute who thought you weren't answering their question..nearly falling into the trance himself until Meloetta showed up.

He's never doubted your power since.

Carmine did tease you in the beginning for being even quieter than her little brother, but felt guilty after reading your letter...wanting to learn sign language herself to own up to her mistakes.

Kieran saw your performance at the festival and couldn't believe you returned to Kitakami as a student, wanting to challenge him to a battle.

You? A celebrity? Against him????

But after the ordeal with Ogerpon, he felt betrayed by his two biggest idols...and so your letter went unread, although it remained in his bag and he finally looked at it post-Indigo Disk.

He showed up to your dorm at BB Academy that same day, a bagful of candy apples and berries as another apology.

Least to say, your team adored the treats.

Even Toxtricity--who genuinely thought he was being an annoying brat this entire time--finally softened up around him.

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goatpaste · 1 year

Text

Alrighty, this has been something I'v been putting off for awhile because I really just wanted to save all the money myself but I just dont think its gonna be able to happen anytime soon and I'm tired of putting it off for Daisy's sake

but this is officially the Donation Post for us to start pooling together money to move daisy up from Texas to Pennsylvania. I'll bore you with the details under the cut but in the mean time here is links and info on the ways you can support the move!

[My commissions are Open] [My Etsy is Open]

[My Kofi were i offer PWYW commissions as low at 3$]

[My Toyhouse has designs for sale on it]

[You can Donate here and all the saving made toward this will be going directly into savings]

These are all the ways you can directly support us and help us work toward the goal of getting Daisy into a safe and better environment! I know not everyone is going to be able to chip in but anything helps even reblogs and sharing around! We've been talking about this move for over a year and I want to try and move her by the end of this year at the latest.

For more info on our specific situation and bit more details, please read under the cut

Daisy has been my friend since we were 6 years old, she is like a sister to me! We've been at each others side through thick and thin and I care about her so much.

Daisy's home life has never been the best and her parents are nightmare people who are a blight on the general public but as well as Daisy's home life.

Daisy doesnt have the ability to drive, work or save her own money even when she did work as her mother would take the money she earned constantly, and was ultimately the reason Daisy was unable to keep her job.

So for Daisy's end she has no ability to save and moving funds, it will primarily be on me to round up the money.

We are not 100% sure how much we are going to need at this moment in time but have a rough estiment.

Were hoping to get Daisy's mother on a good mood and have her pay for Daisy's plane ticket. We are going to be unable to move all her stuff and will just have to pack as much as she can into a large suitcase and fly up. So we will not have to pay for the plane, but will have to pay for bedding, and everything else she will need once up here. we have some temporary arrangements Via my bed and couch and potentially picking up a blow up mattress. But my current apartment is extremely small and not much room for two people let alone just me. Not sure how long I will be in this space while Daisy is up here if at all.

I may potentially reach out to my step father and ask him to dip into the savings he has kept for me to get Daisy furniture and necessities. But im avoiding that for as much as i can as im not on the best terms with my dad.

I will start looking for a bigger place for us to live together once we start getting in a comfortable area on savings. As the only money maker currently i will be needing savings to afford a place for us to share that will of course be much more expensive than where i am right now. Daisy will start looking for a job once she is/has moved up here and hopefully we will be able to support ourselves at that point, it will just be the first little bit of time we will need a cushion.

this is one of the areas im not 100% sure how much were going to need but certain in the thousands area knowing rent for a place big enough for two individuals.

after that its just gonna be us figuring it out.

but this is the situation as it stands right now, we are trying to help a trans woman out of her shitty living situation and across the country where her friends who love and care and want to support her are. We dont know exactly how much its going to be, but its going to be a lot and were really just looking for a bit of support!

thank yall so much!

#donation post #moving funds #commissions #furry #anthro #etsy #kofi

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loggiepj · 1 year

Text

YOU'RE NOT MY TYPE

Summary: Wanda mistakenly rejects you when you try to ask her out.

And now she regrets it because you're definitely, undeniably her type.

Seeing your ex-girlfriend kiss someone else in your workplace felt like hell.

It was as if love broke you. The ability to function hindered only by one organ in your body. And even if it was so tiny, once it was hurt, it would hurt you like a ton.

Through the first weeks, the breakup affected your work. Finding yourself stuttering through discussions or staring blankly in space during meetings, it was as if your life stopped and you began to question on your existence.

What is the meaning of life if not to love?

Your boss even requested for you to take a leave because he said you deserved it. And you wondered which thing you did deserve, the leave or the breakup.

Maybe both.

When your friends started to notice you being all depressed and mopey on your table while your ex from another department was smiling like crazy as she prepared herself for a date with the new guy, they immediately felt the need to console you with food, drinks and company.

That was why on your 7th week after the said awful breakup, your friends managed to pull you on your feet and dragged you with them into a bar owned by the sister of one of your friends.

After gulping down your second shot of whatever drink your friends offered to you, you finally stood up and declared.

"Okay, I think that's enough for today-"

But Natasha, your somewhat close to bestfriend, stopped you. "Cmon Y/n, we barely even started."

"Yeah, Y/n," Steve, Nat's boyfriend, added as he made you sit back on your stool. "Plus, the reason why we're here is so you can find yourself a gal and move on from that stupid ex of yours."

"She's not stupid," you immediately argued, making Steve raise his hands in surrender. You didn't even know why you were still trying to defend her. She hurt you. "Sorry... She's just, complicated. That's all."

"Enough about your past," Pietro butted in. "Steve's kinda right, you know? You have to realize that there's still plenty of fish in the water and your ex was just a tiny plankton."

"That's not even a fish-"

He stopped you midsentence. "What I'm trying to say is that there's someone out there waiting for you to ask her out. And all you need is a one big push. Maybe you'll even thank your ex someday."

You only shook your head as he offered you another shot.

"Unless... you're scared," Pietro added.

"Oh... This is good," Tony meddled in. "Did you just call Y/n a scaredy cat?"

"I am not scared to flirt, okay?" You defended yourself, straightening the collar of your shirt. "I just... Well, I'm just not in the mood."

"Fine, if you're not scared as you say you are... I dare you... To ask that bartender out," Pietro suggested, pointing at the woman mixing and serving drinks at the bar. When you turned your head to glance towards her, as if on cue, Stand By Me by Ben E. King blared from the speakers in the background. The woman had brownish blonde hair tied up in a bun. Her emerald eyes glinting as she smiled at her customers. You could tell right away she wasn't the kind of bartender who'd sport a fake smile, she was a genuine one, like a beautiful flower in an open field of buckwheat.

You thought Pietro had good taste because the woman was so breathtakingly attractive. But you knew there was no way she'd say yes being asked out in a place like this. She had probably received a lot of offers, too. Looking like that, most people would just objectify her. While you would worship her.

You couldn't blame her if she'd say no though.

So you agreed to Pietro's dumb dare. "On one condition. If she'll say no, I am going home."

"That makes no sense. We're here to party for you.... And what makes you think she'd say no? I mean, you're beautiful, I'm not blind, Y/n, and she looks like an angel in hell," Pietro said, his arms flailing before you to explain.

"I just know she wouldn't, okay? She deserves to be asked out, but not in a place like this," you reasoned out.

"Deal, then!" He agreed after a moment of silence. "But please put a little effort, too."

"I'll try," you mustered up a bit of courage, as you stood and made your way to the bar. Her last customers just left with drinks in hand as you slowly approached, hands in your pocket.

"Hi!" You must have greeted her enthusiastically because it made her jump on her spot. You couldn't deny that she was more beautiful up close and it made you forget why you were there in the first place.

"Hey, what can I get you?" she asked, her voice so sweet and lovely.

"Just a can of coke, please," you replied, smiling.

She only giggled, not expecting you to order something nonalcoholic.

Once she placed a can, a glass full of ice and a napkin before you, you immediately added, "Oh, you forgot something."

Her brows furrowed in confusion, wondering if she served the wrong can.

Then you handed out a napkin to her and said, cringing internally, "Your number."

After five seconds of painful silence, she broke out into a loud laughter. And you smiled because she had a beautiful laugh.

"Sorry," she managed to say after trying not to laugh for a second, covering her mouth. "But you're not my type."

"So you're straight?"

"No, I'm bi..," she hesitantly admitted. "But just because I'm half gay doesn't mean you're my type."

And you released a soft chuckle, nodding back at her with understanding, because you were right all along. Internally, you were rejoicing because you won Pietro's dare and a soft warm bed awaited you at home.

"And you find rejection amusing too, first time," she went on, now with an awkward laugh.

You licked your lips as you said. "Sorry, turning serious now.. Okay, I'm hurt." You placed your hand dramatically on your chest. "Both physically and emotionally... What's your type then?"

She was now wiping a clean glass dry as she replied. "Someone who doesn't give corny pick up lines in a dingy bar like this."

You let out a laugh because your thoughts about her just matched and it intrigued you even more.

"Actually... I don't pick up girls from bars like this. I was just dared to by my friends," you explained.

"Ohh, and you know why I know you're not my type?" she asked with a smirk.

"Enlighten me, please."

"Because I knew you'd say that. Exactly those phrases. What are we? Highschoolers playing truth or dare?"

You only smiled, giving her credit for that. If you were in her shoes, you'd probably do the same thing too.

"My name's Y/n..," you introduced yourself. When she wasn't responding, you added. "And yours?"

She only chuckled at you. "And... I'm working."

"Hi, Working! That's a pretty cute name. For sure you hate your parents for that though."

Giving you one last laugh and a shake of head, the woman tended to another group of new customers and you decided to leave her in peace.

When you came back to your table, your friends laughing and awaiting for your return, you only punched your hand in the air in victory.

"I told you she'd say no," you said, as you grabbed your bag from your seat, slinging it on your shoulder.

"What?!" Pietro exclaimed.

"And because I won, I can go home now," you added, leaving a couple of tens on the table. "Thank you so much for the company guys."

Little did you notice that the bartender was staring at you, wondering why you were suddenly walking out the door with no one in hand even though you were undeniably attractive and literally could have anyone. Did you really just flirt with her and only her?

"Hey, Wanda! My lovely sis!"

When she saw her brother, Pietro, leaning in front of the counter, Wanda immediately shrugged him off, telling him he already had too much alcohol.

"Why did you say no to my friend, Y/n?" Pietro groaned like a kid as he took a seat.

And Wanda's eyes suddenly lit up.

"Oh, so you are the one who tried to set me up with your friend," she complained. "Sorry, Piet. She's just not my type, okay?"

And Pietro glared at her as if she had said the most offending thing ever.

"What? Y/n is definitely your type."

"You're unbelievable, you know that? I have standards and her asking me out like that in a bar like this is just a no-no for me."

Pietro sighed as he leaned, resting his head on his folded arms. "Look... She's just not trying hard to ask you because I dared her to. And she didn't want to ask you really. Actually, she was opposed to the idea. She made a deal about it that if you'd reject her, she'd leave and go home, which made her happy to be honest."

Wanda grew confused as she placed the cleaned glasses back on the shelf.

"So you forced her to ask me out, even when she doesn't even want to?"

Pietro smiled apologetically. "Sort of... But I am telling you, sis, Y/n is your soulmate... She's just going through some stuff right now. And you rejecting her would definitely not boost her confidence."

Wanda only laughed. "Oh, from what I witnessed earlier, she didn't need that much help."

When Tony walked into the conversation just to order refills, Pietro immediately included him. Him and Pietro were childhood buddies and knew Wanda since little.

"Hey Tony, what about you? Do you think Y/n is Wanda's type?"

Then Tony's eyes widened in realization. "Oh my God, you are right! I've never thought of it before. I think they're soulmates."

Wanda only scoffed, ignoring the sudden churn she felt in her stomach. Did she make a mistake?

"See?" Pietro exclaimed, then she pulled Natasha when she happened to pass by along the bar. "Nat, you know my sister, Wanda, right?"

And both of the girls smiled and acknowledged each other.

"Wanda said that Y/n is not her type," Pietro went on.

Natasha only raised her eyebrows. Then she looked at Wanda in shock. "What? But Y/n is a hopeless romantic, Wanda. And a complete nerd if you ask me. She's definitely your type."

"She goes to musicals," Steve suddenly butted in, as if their table just teleported to the bar.

"Oh, and she likes to watch-"

"Interstellar!" Both Natasha and Tony screamed as they giggled.

"She must have watched that movie for the thousandth time," Pietro added. "More than Wanda had seen it... There were times I couldn't get the movie soundtrack to leave my head for weeks-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Wanda interrupted. "Y/n and I have common interests. But I just don't like to be asked out in a bar... and besides, if she's really that amazing as you tell, how come you just talk about her around me now?"

"Because she just got out of a 5-year relationship," Pietro slowly answered as they all grew silent. "And she's still hurting."

Upon the revelation, Wanda's heart ached for you. You were hurting and she was rude to you, she didn't even give you her name.

When the topics have changed, Wanda couldn't stop wondering what if she did say yes. Would you take her seriously?

She had previous relationships that she didn't even want to remember because of too much trauma and red flags. And she didn't want to relive those moments.

Pietro knew she had been single for almost a year now, not being able to find time to date, and when she did have time, it was either a no show up date or a bad first impression date. She wondered if you were her first mistake, the one who got away.

Even after her shift, Wanda's mind always drifted back to you. To the point when she saw Pietro help her arrange the tables after the bar closed, she relented.

"Do you have her number?" Wanda sheepishly asked.

And Pietro only smiled at her as he pulled out his phone.

But Wanda hadn't found the courage to text you until a week after. She was about to send out her drafted message, probably the 11th version, to you when you accidentally bumped into her on the streets.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't see you there," you immediately apologized. Then upon recognizing her, you greeted. "Hi, Working! I haven't seen you in like what was it, a week now?"

Wanda bit her lower lip to suppress a laugh as she replied, her insides squirming. "Careful there, one might think you're counting."

You only chuckled back then you noticed the groceries she was carrying. "You need help with that?"

But without waiting for her reply, you grabbed the bags from her. "So where to?

Wanda must have blushed but she tried to hide her face by looking down the pavement. "Nice try, showoff... To the dingy bar, please..."

But you only smiled as you two walked along the streets, knowing the bar she was referring to was just two blocks away.

"What are you doing in the food market on a Sunday, anyway?" Wanda curiously asked, breaking the silence.

"Oh, I went there for the food," you answered honestly, smirking at her.

"Yeah, very smart, smartass," Wanda smirked back.

You continued. "There's actually this store that sells a variety of nuts-"

"-which you can choose the quantity of each type at the same rate!" Wanda finished, then she realized what she did, nerding out on nuts.

"You like nuts that much, huh?" You joked. You found her cute, though.

"Ha ha... very funny."

"Hey, I meant the food," you quickly explained.

Wanda couldn't stop the smile from widening on her face.

When you finally arrived at the bar Wanda was working at, you noticed how she pulled a big keychain from her bag, numerous keys dangling around.

"You own this bar?" You asked, slightly intending the question as a joke but curiosity killed you.

Wanda hesitantly nodded. She didn't see now why she needed to hide.

"Wait," you muttered, connecting the dots. "So your brother must be Pietro Maximoff, then. I'm one of his dear friends."

"Yeah, he's my twin brother, actually."

After entering the bar, you followed her to the kitchen where you placed the groceries on top of the table.

Wanda suddenly grew nervous, now that you're both alone in a small room. "Do you like something to drink, a refreshment of the sort maybe? As a thank you," Wanda asked, nerves started to kick in.

"Oh, no it's okay," you instantly replied, shaking your head. "I have to go home anyway and feed my cat."

You thought she looked disappointed at the moment but you could just be imagining it.

But Wanda was indeed disappointed.

Before you turned to leave, you added. "Sorry about that night, though... I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable like that. If it was anyone to blame, you should blame Pietro. He was the one who dared me to ask you out."

Wanda only chuckled softly, her heartbeat racing.

"No, it's fine. That's just my brother. He's just silly and all."

You nodded and smiled. "Okay... I won't keep you long... Have a great day, then, Miss Working Maximoff."

It took Wanda to get the joke and when she laughed out loud, you were already gone. And she regretted not giving you her number. Because she still didn't have the courage to text you first.

The next time you saw each other was at a common friend's wedding two weeks after that short interaction. You didn't want to come but Tony would kill you if you didn't.

And then you saw Pietro's sister looking like an angel, a beautiful flower in a sea of grass.

She was dressed in a pretty white dress and her eyes never looked so greener than before. To be honest, you thought she looked more beautiful than the bride herself, no offense to Pepper, Tony's bride-to-be.

"Hi, Working!" You greeted behind her.

Wanda should be angry at being teased at but when she recognized the voice and the joke, she couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach.

"Hey, Y/n," she greeted back. Then she leaned forward to kiss your cheek in greeting, which made you jump and melt at the feeling of her lips on your skin. Wanda couldn't help but feel entranced by the way you look that day, she didn't even notice her brother was talking.

"Why is she calling you Working?" Pietro asked.

But the ceremony just started and he was immediately shushed out.

At the reception, you found yourself dancing to your favorite song when it came up. It was Wanda's favorite too.

When she saw you dancing, Wanda immediately went to ask her friends to the dance floor, needing an excuse to bump into you. But it was to no avail. Her friends were still full from the meal they had eaten.

Someone coughed behind her, making her abruptly turn. Then her lips curved into a smile as you looked at her, your hand held in front of you. "I heard you have troubles finding yourself a dance partner."

Wanda sheepishly took your hand, as she answered. "Well, now I don't."

And you both had the time of your lives as you and Wanda danced to the lively song followed by another pop one, then a rock song. When Lunar One by Seventeen Evergreen played on the speakers, you both tried to catch your breath as her arms slowly snaked around your shoulders while yours wrapped around her waist.

"I have a question," you began as you swayed to the song, smiling at her.

"Yeah?"

"If you've finished working, does your name change into its past tense Worked?"

Wanda didn't even know why she was laughing at such a corny joke but she was, tears warning to get out from her eyes.

"What if you're in England," you added. "And someone calls you Job, would you acknowledge that person or correct him and say that's not your name?"

Chuckling so hard, she punched you lightly on your shoulder as she said, "Stop it. I believe now you know my real name."

"I... may have stalked your brother's social media."

"And what have you seen?"

"That you have a beautiful and a very unique name.... but not as unique as Working though."

Wanda shook her head in laughter, her eyes suddenly drifted to your lips, wondering what it felt like against hers. But the moment ended when Wanda was suddenly asked out to a dance by one of the guests. You happily, but deep inside disappointed, let her go.

What you didn't know was Wanda's eyes follow you after that.

When the night ended and everyone eventually started leaving, Wanda expected you to see her afterwards, knowing you both had a moment.

She knew you were feeling it too. And then she would just ask you out right there because you didn't seem to have the courage to.

But Pietro said you already left because you were catching a ride with your friends. And Wanda's wonder and insecurities started to rise.

It was almost winter when you got invited to Tony's manor for a very early Halloween party. Pre-party as what Tony would call them. He wanted to do it early because Pepper wanted a month-long honeymoon before the holidays.

You were not fond of parties but it was a great opportunity to lay out your small telescope and rusty camera in their wide backyard. The manor was near the countryside, away from the light pollution of the city.

You arrived at 1am, set up your devices for half an hour and you were preoccupied. Around 3am in the morning, you finally had a full glimpse of the Milky Way galaxy's core.

When Wanda found out you came, she immediately went looking for you. She was about to give up until she found you in the backyard, the last place she thought you were at.

"What are you doing out here?" Wanda called out to you, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her body as she approached you. "It's literally negative degrees."

And Wanda might have fallen in love when she saw you smile so wide from ear to ear as you saw her.

You then said, "Look above you."

Wanda craned her neck to see what you were talking about. And she didn't even realize how vast the night sky looked right now above them with thousands of twinkling specks of light.

"Wow! That's a lot of stars," Wanda said, her voice full of amazement, as she stood next to you.

When you gently grabbed her hand, her heart stopped beating and she did try her best to focus on your voice instead because she was sure she'd faint on the spot if she didn't.

You pointed her hand at the direction of the sky.

"Do you see that?" You traced the outline with her hand in yours. "That is the core of the Milky Way galaxy."

And when Wanda finally gathered her bearings, she saw what you were trying to say.

"Oh my! I thought I'd never see it in real life. Only in pictures," she blurted out, the skin around her eyes creasing as she smiled.

"I know, right?"

Then you looked at her and you thought about how beautiful she looked up close. And it felt like a moment, but you were sure the earth slowed down around you.

Shaking your head away from the thought, you decided to look back at the sky. You were not her type. Why do you keep forgetting that?

When you noticed her body tremble slightly, you worried.

"Are you cold?"

"I-"

But without waiting for a reply, you wrapped your extra jacket around her.

"Better?"

Wanda nodded as she breathe in your perfume, loving it and wishing that she could have you more than just your scent. She wanted everything about you.

You and Wanda must have talked about the stars, nebulae, galaxies and the new space telescope from NASA for too long, you didn't even notice that almost an hour has passed.

When Wanda was about to confess her feelings to you, someone called out from the house and disrupted the moment.

"What the hell are you doing out there?!" Tony shouted. "It's freezing cold!"

And Wanda didn't get a chance to.

The next time Wanda saw you, you were crying in the balcony of Pietro's house. He was hosting a small party to celebrate his promotion at work.

Knowing that you weren't alone, you immediately wiped the tears from your eyes. Turning, you saw Wanda and greeted, "Hi there!"

"Hey," Wanda cooed softly as she stood beside you, rubbing your back. "What's wrong?"

She couldn't help but feel protective around you. If someone made you cry, they would have to deal with her after.

"Nothing, just...," you answered in a small voice. "Something went into my eye, you know."

And Wanda softly chuckled as she continued to rub your back, soothing you calm. And you were because she was there with you.

"You're a terrible liar too, do you know that?"

"Oh I wouldn't know. I've only tried them on your brother."

"Well, you know he's an exception right? He literally believes everything. He is that gullible."

You laughed.

After a moment, you grew silent, just staring out at the horizon before you. You knew she was waiting for you to speak up, but not rushing you.

Then you suddenly muttered. "I wasn't crying because I was sad, you know."

"Why are you then?"

"I met up with my ex-girlfriend earlier... S-she said that she messed it up and she wa-wanted to get back with me."

Wanda wished so bad she couldn't hear you right now if she'd only hurt herself.

"Did you?" But Wanda still wanted to know.

You only shook your head. "No, that would be crazy... That's why I'm crying because I thought I'd never make it through the heartbreak. I was totally broken months ago. And now I can look at her and feel nothing. Absolutely nothing, Wanda... It's just amazing how time can heal you."

Releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding, Wanda smiled.

"And those were just happy tears?"

You smiled at her. "Yeah, those were happy tears."

Wanda then hugged you, her arms slipping around your body, as she buried her face into your neck. You hugged her back, placing your head on top of hers.

"Is this okay?" she asked.

You whispered yes as you let her hug you like that and treasured the moment. As long as she was there, even just as a friend, it would be okay. You would be okay.

Trying to distract you, Wanda started when she pulled away. "Tell me about your favorite galaxy."

Then you began to tell her about Andromeda and how it was so near, it was always visible to the naked eye.

As Wanda listened to you, she realized you still needed a little time before getting overwhelmed by confessing her feelings. So Wanda gave you more time.

Three nights passed and Wanda still felt the same.

Wanda wasn't working that night at the bar when you and your friends decided to drop by. The night wasn't busy because it was a weekday and some stocks just needed some replenishing.

Going away for a small event the next day, Wanda could only sign the purchase orders provided by her staff on that night. That night you specifically dropped by.

Wanda thought that the feelings were mutual and that she was finally getting through to you but when you introduced your new officemate to her, eventually realizing you were setting her up with your officemate because said officemate was asking for her number, her heart broke into pieces. And you didn't even mean to. It wasn't your fault that you thought she wasn't interested in you.

You were in the comfort room that time washing off the ketchup that smudged your shirt when Wanda came bursting through the door.

"What the fucking hell is wrong with you?!" Wanda exclaimed.

You had never seen her look so terrifying before.

"Wanda-"

"What was that about, huh? You just set me up with someone!"

"I-I just thought I'd introduce you two because you're both single and-"

Wanda only sighed, stopping you. "God, how can you be so oblivious?"

"Wan-"

Her mouth crashed against yours, as she pinned you against the cold tiled wall. And as quickly as it happened, she immediately pulled away and cursed, leaving you dumbfounded.

"Shit I-I am sorry, I just thought you like me back-" Wanda stopped herself as she stepped away from you and exited the room.

You ran after her, surprising your friends, until you were outside the bar. The streets were now deserted as it was almost midnight. Wanda was already a step away to her car, having trouble in finding her keys.

"Wanda!" You called out to her.

Wanda looked at you as her body wracked up in sobs. You immediately wrapped your arms around her in a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry... I know I ruined it, I ruined our friendship-"

"Stop, Wanda," you butted in, pulling away to rub each of her shoulders as you tried to calm her down. "You didn't, okay? Because I like you too. So much, Wanda. Even way before knowing I wasn't your type."

Softly chuckling, Wanda wiped her eyes as she softly said. "I regretted every single day why I said that... I really did. Because you are my type, Y/n. You are amazing and sweet and so beautiful and you make me laugh and giddy... I-"

She swallowed back a sob as you hugged her again, burying your face into her hair.

"You make me happy, too," you confessed. "I've never been happier before I met you, Wanda."

After a moment, she pulled away as you both looked into each other's eyes, yours sometimes drifting towards her lips. "And I don't think I can manage another day without knowing what your mouth feels like against mine."

Wanda's eyes smiled at you as she softly laughed.

"Why don't you find out?"

And you almost just did as you began to cup her face and leaned forward.

"I don't know... maybe if she'd agree to go out with me on a date tomorrow, I would," you quipped, making her chuckle.

Wanda sniffled as she licked her lips, leaning towards you as well. Her arms were now wrapped around your neck as yours around her waist. "Maybe I can fit her into my schedule."

Both of your noses were now merely touching, feeling each other's breath on your faces, her fingers caressing the baby hair at the back of your neck.

Nobody knew who closed the gap between the two of you, but you knew you didn't want to stop kissing her.

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