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#One of the most painful moments of my life
hellishjoel · 1 day
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reborn
1.4k / pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader
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summary: Joel’s long hair is a testament to a long life in Jackson, Wyoming. He hasn’t had time to get it cut since the birth of his daughter. 
warnings/information:  joel’s long hair appreciation post!!!!!, fluff, established relationship, a little swearing, soft!joel, girl dad!joel, jackson!joel, mother f!reader, ellie and joel are just fine okay!!, obvious maria appreciation, reader doesn’t have a physical appearance but has given birth
A/N: this is super short and I wrote it in 24 hours - you all know why we’re here, we saw that new picture of long haired joel miller and yadayadayada now we’re here! graphics by @saradika-graphics
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There’s a new baby in Jackson. 
One more teeny tiny resident. The population sign must be repainted to acknowledge its three hundred and fifth resident. 
And she’s your little girl. 
She’s not just perfect, she’s the center of your universe. Wrapped in a freshly hand-washed baby pink blanket, a testament to the hours of labor in Jackson’s makeshift delivery room. Joel held your hand throughout. 
This was his second child, but his first with you. The flood of emotions was overwhelming, and you promised to stand by him, even if you could never truly understand the pain tangled with newfound joy. 
But you should have seen the way his eyes softened at the first sight of her. Everything changed, for the both of you. His once-buried fatherly instincts took over, walking with the delivery nurse from your bed to the small cleaning station. He couldn’t let her out of his sight.
Already so protective and wound around her little finger from the moment she took her first breath and wailed her first cry. 
Scream it, little one, tell the world you’re here and that you’re ours. You are already so loved with your big glowing eyes and round cheeks, your small hands curled into your chest, and you kick your tiny little feet. Stomp, roar, live. 
You’re born into the most dangerous time in history, but your parents are here to protect you. The moment your baby girl was born, you and Joel were reborn. 
One month old, and nothing has changed. Except for your and Joel’s sleep schedules. Tommy gave Joel temporary leave from patrol duties, which Joel did not protest. He found it impossible some days to leave the house for food and supplies. 
Ellie was helpful. Despite no blood relation, she and Joel shared many qualities. She didn’t let you lift a finger if she could help it. She had moved into the garage a few months back. After all, she was a teenager who loved having space.
“You sure you don’t just wanna move back inside the house, Ellie?” She was here more often than not, and her company and help were dearly appreciated.
“And wake up to a crying baby twelve times in the middle of the night? I love you guys, but no thanks,” she teased as you playfully rolled your eyes. 
“That’s fair. But the offer still stands.”
Ellie shrugs nonchalantly and lands beside you on the couch, laying her head on your shoulder as you both stare lovingly down at the baby sleeping soundly in your arms. 
“I know, but you should make my old room the baby’s new one. Besides, Joel just set up my stereo, and I blast that thing non-stop. No baby is gonna like that.” 
“Oh, trust me, we know.” You whisper as you kiss the top of her head, your cheek nudging against her brunette tresses tied back into a ponytail.
Ellie cooks some sort of monstrosity in the kitchen upon Joel’s return from Tommy and Maria’s. He holds piles of Maria’s hand-sewn diapers and onesies. She was a God send, a woman you consider a Jill of all trades. 
Oh, Maria. She always desired that Jackson would not fall into turmoil like most of the country had surely found its way to. In her eyes, Jackson would remain a thriving and welcoming community to those who were good of heart. 
That woman worked to the bone to ensure that Jackson’s residents were safe and happy. Living here was like living in a snow globe, safe from the outside world and protected from danger. 
As the de facto leader of the Jackson settlement, she wore many hats. From trading and supplies to security and community welfare, Maria made it her mission to ensure that all new families found their new home in Jackson to be an inviting one—a safe haven from their old lives and here to start anew. 
“Maria bartered for new cotton,” Joel whispers as he enters the living room, quiet so as not to stir the baby. 
“She did?” You ask softly, sitting up slightly as you feel his hand cup your cheek from above, tilting your head back so he can give you a proper kiss. 
“Yeah, she was gonna try and find somethin’ alternative to cotton for the diapers, but they set her up with some scavenged materials and clothing to make lots of diapers out of. Plus, gave her some stuff to cultivate it here. Y’know, be self-sufficient.” 
“Wow,” you mutter tiredly, rubbing at your eyes as your daughter begins to twitch in your arms. “I think she hears her daddy’s voice.” 
Joel cooes softly, quick to drop the items off on the kitchen counter with haphazard abandon. He grunts quietly as his knees scream for rest until he sits beside you on the couch with open palms. You delicately hand him the baby, and his eyes twinkle at the sight of her. He was adorably cute when he baby-babbled, though he swears he never does. 
“Hi sweet wittle girl, pretty pwincess, did you have a good day with mommy?” 
It takes you this long to realize how much his hair has grown out. Your fingers softly weave into the greying curls, twirling one around your finger before you let it fall into its natural waves. 
“It’s so long, baby,” you whisper like honey.
He lets out a quiet chuckle and absentmindedly leans into your touch. “I’know. Haven’t had time to get it cut,” he turns his attention back to the little girl swaddled in his arms, “and I think I know who’s been keepin’ me so damn busy.” 
You hum and gently clutch the curls at the nape of his neck, truly in awe of how long they were. You’ve never seen him let it get this long. As Joel would say, this is Tommy long. But was there really a look he couldn’t pull off?
“I, uh, I don’t want you to cut it.” Your words come off shy and sweet, making him melt as he slowly turns to look at you with a raised brow. 
“Is that so?” His southern twang rolls freely off his tongue. 
“Mhm, you look so handsome. I think I would cry if you got rid of that thick mane of yours.” 
He chuckles again, a low and sultry one. “Alright. I’ll keep puttin’ up with it.”
“Mmm, please do. It’s sorta doin’ somethin’ for me.” 
Joel pauses and watches as the aging sunlight shines over your face. He takes your hand in his large calloused one and squeezes, circling his thumb along your wrist. “You’ve given me a life I sometimes don’t feel like I deserve. A happy one. I don’t think there’s a way I can ever say thank you or I love you enough for how my life has turned out. Without you, I might be dead.”
“Oh, Joel,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against his own, both of your eyes falling closed. “You are deserving of every moment of happiness in this life. You make my life worth living. You saved us.” 
Joel lets out a wet chuckle, kissing the tip of your nose before meeting your lips delicately. 
In this light, the amber glow of the sun setting just beyond the walls outside, he’s so handsome. It truly makes your heart skip a beat. After all these years of pain, loss, and suffering, Joel is happy. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to make him. 
During the first few weeks in this new and unfamiliar settlement, Joel would shoot up in the middle of the night, upset that he had fallen asleep. He hadn’t slept in a home with four solid walls in so long, none of you had. You remember the first night he slept soundly, snoring like a madman and nuzzling into his pillow. He was safe. There were no clickers in waiting, no scavengers to fend off. His people were protected. He could breathe. 
Never did you once think that at the ends of the world, there would be room for you to feel like this. Reborn. It led you to Joel and Ellie and continued with your baby girl. Your lives are getting a second chance. 
You didn’t know how long it would stay like this because nothing was forever. But you would wake up tomorrow morning and run a hand through Joel’s hair, through the pretty curls that tickled his neck, and the opportunity for it to keep growing would be another sign that your lives weren’t ending. They were only just beginning.
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emismunch · 3 days
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❝ DO YOU FEEL ASHAMED? ❞ ✶ ELLIE WILLIAMS !
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★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, ex!ellie, heavy angst, cheating, heartbreak, moving on, reader going through it, no happy ending y'all, this one has a little kick, ellie is a bit of a dirtbag in this, next time i write for her it'll be the most fluff.
RAYNE RAMBLES ★ wrote this last year after getting cheated on and it's just been sitting in my docs, forever. enjoy my pain?? idk, possible abby x reader sequel
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ex!ellie who avoids you for a very long time after the breakup. she wishes it could be amicable between the two of you too, but it can't be. it never will be. ellie made sure of it. all of her belongings are still littered across your apartment, though her scent is gone, you still see her everywhere. you can't bring yourself to remove the framed photos of the two of you hanging across your home. she was happy, or so you thought, and you were. but today was the day. you were letting all of it go and her with it. your roommate had taken it all down for you, the strength to remove the past three years of your life just couldn't be found. 
ex!ellie who doesn't really want to think about the way you'll look at her. her emerald eyes were always your favorite, you used to go on about how much you love them. how soft they looked at you, the light shining beneath them whenever she said something stupid and ellie just waited for your giggle or a hint of it anyway. they used to be kind to you, careful, even calm but it didn't seam to be the case anymore. ellie knew you wouldn't be either — not after she’s hurt you. carelessly, abusing your kind-hearted spirit, turned you to something resembling unbridled rage with a large dosage of resentment. 
ex!ellie who is met with your roommate instead of you, before the door is slammed in her face. she expects to be met with sharp behavior. there wasn't a shadow of a doubt she did. ellie just wished it wasn't your best friend who she fucking hated. ellie never liked them. they never liked her and now she didn't have to hide it. what ellie couldn't stand was that they were right about her. three years in and instead of doing the decent thing, ellie chose to betray you. those closest to you were going to protect you from the enemy at all costs. the only you trust the most and cut you the deepest. as much as she despised it, it was all true. 
ex!ellie who eventually gets you, after you hear her voice carelessly arguing with your friend. you place a box at the entry in front of her feet, before you walk away. ellie peaks through one foot in the door, but then you're already back with the second box. ellie can see the tears in your eyes and you see the guilt in hers. almost shining brighter than the shame. she knows how much it hurts you, her being here, being so close but so unimaginably far away it makes you want to hurl. 
ex!ellie who watches you breathe deeply, your hands clenched into fists. before you're rubbing them at drained eyes, dark circles underneath them. she's to blame for everything you're going through. if she had just been honest from the beginning, maybe the two of you could've been friends and just left your love there. you were nothing but good to ellie, pure like white snow, and now the blood from her hands fell over you, staining you a violent red. you would never be pure again. no. not like before. you wouldn't ever blindly trust anyone just because you simply fell in love. putting yourself out like this again? no, you couldn't do it. 
ex!ellie who tries to speak with you, mouth open, but no words are able to come out. she tried her best to put off this moment, the confrontation of the aftermath, facing the fact she had treated you like an afterthought, but you were more than just a thought ellie had tried to push away. you were a person she had left abandoned. she had promised you the world and caved when the time came to give in. she become everything you feared she would be, tearing you in little shreds of yourself as you tried to piece back what she had broke. 
"you look like you haven't slept." ellie states, not really a question, but she almost phrases it as one. she doesn't have a right to ask. the two of you know she's forfeited knowing you, your life, how you're doing — she's the one whose damned it all. 
"i don't really. not right now at least." you look anywhere but her eyes, your eyes concentrating towards the freckles meticulously scattered along her shoulders, her cheeks, and along her button nose. “anyways, should be everything of yours. i’ll contact dina if anything else shows up.” your tone sharp, clearly cutting through. 
there’s no malice when you utter her girlfriend’s name, but ellie senses you’ll reserve the tone of betrayal just for her. she’s the one who abandoned her commitment to you. 
not dina. 
“can we talk? please?” ellie flashes her beautiful puppy eyes at you, once would make you melt, now you feel like throwing up.
“ellie.” there is it is, ellie thinks, betrayal and brutality laced in the voice who promised her a future. there once had been one, house, kids, a ring. it seems so silly now. it’s a warning the way you speak to her. don’t push your luck, williams. 
she’s with dina. why does she even care? 
she’d never seen you so upset, so vengeful, so tired of her. you weren’t lying when you never said you never wanted to see her again. every single beat of your heart meant it, the emotion cut off when you spoke to her, how you looked at her with this cold look in your eyes. arms crossed over your chest as if looking at her is the most taxing task in the world. 
ellie was supposed to not care. she couldn’t, yet it bothered her you clearly didn’t. 
“i have nothing i want to say, especially to you.” you bark, for the first time, ellie fears there might be a bite. 
“i-i know i fucked up, okay? i just can’t stand the thought of you fucking hating me.” ellie pleads, a longing look in her eyes. 
“well, i never thought i would, so i guess we’re all evolving and changing into horrible people.” you roll your eyes at her, watching as she struggles to pick up the boxes laid at her feet. 
you loath how much you want to help her, but don’t. 
you can’t. 
“you’re not horrible.” 
“well, you are.” your insult slapped her right across the face, the burning sensation stung but what hurt more was knowing you meant every word. 
“this isn’t fair, i know what i did was bad, but i told you the truth. i didn’t lie, i confessed. isn’t it worth for at least, i dont know, a little empathy? something?” ellie sighed deeply, shoulders tense from the altercation with you. “
“you didn’t tell me because you’re a honest person. it’s because i would have found out and you were scared.” you scoff. “fuck you. wanting brownie points for admitting you cheated? go to hell.” 
“what else could i have done? it was already too late.” ellie admits, shame laced in her eyes. you hope she feels every bit of shame for all the hell she’s put you through. 
“i wonder why it was too late?” your sarcasm slicing through the air. ellie finally managed to get a grasp on boxes in her shaky hands as she tried to not crumble under your death glare from hell. “i was the last one to show up at the party to your new fucking relationship. huh, guess i would be one not invited? some weird fucking placeholder until you found something better. right under my fucking nose.” 
she deserves every bit of it. 
painfully, you were met with silence. ellie couldn’t do anything, apologize in a way she hadn’t before, beg for forgiveness, grovel for your compassion. 
you were too angry, too heated, too fucking hurt. there’s only a split second of it, ellie almost missed it, but she saw it clearly. the gloomy blues hidden beneath your beautiful eyes, slowly becoming more evident. you’re trying your best to hide it beneath anger, mask it from her, but she sees it. 
tears building the more your voice escalates and ellie would truly hate herself if she made you cry in front of her, again. she’s can’t see you do it again. it’s the last thing she wants. she can’t keep hurting you. 
dina, fuck. she has to protect her. ellie’s unsure if you’ll lash out on here. you haven’t yet, but breakups pull the worst out of you and she’s fearful for the women she does love. 
“just…don’t take it out on dina, alright? if you wanna be mad, fine. as much as i wish i could fix it, i know nothing i can say or do will earn your trust back. okay?” 
your heart breaks at her instinct to protect dina, how she used to do the same for you. it nearly splits you into an abyss, cracking your soul just where she had nicked it. almost seemed intentional at this point. 
“i would never be mean to her. she didn’t promise me a future together, you did. hope you have lovely fucking life with her.” 
ex!ellie who is met with the wooden door being slammed in her face, nearly kissing her chin. she stayed there long enough to hear you cry, sitting on the concrete to hear the consequences of loving someone else who wasn’t her girlfriend, well now ex. she craved to punch something, someone. you whined, a name quietly dropped from your perfect lips, abby, your fucking best friend. she would be the one to comfort you, pick up the pieces of the wreckage ellie had left you with. it scorned her, letting a flame loose on her skin, with the thought of you with her. but she didn’t get to have feelings, she couldn’t be upset with how you chose to reassemble your sanity. not when she’s the one who broke you. even if it’s with the woman she always feared you love more than a friend.
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DAILY CLICK + DONT BUY TLOU + DONATE
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suashii · 1 day
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— 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ノ non-canon compliant ノ sfw ノ some vaguely suggestive bits ノ farmhand!boothill ノ flirty teasing ノ pet names ( darlin', princess, honey, sweetheart. . . i went crazy @.@ )
my comeback to writing for hsr! first time writing for boothill so pls don't be too tough on me :3 hope u like ! !
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the new farmhand at your grandfather’s ranch is trouble.
he shouldn’t be, not with the way your grandpa speaks so highly of him—he’s exactly the kind of help this place needed, he tells you. starts on time, is thorough in his work, and takes good care of all that your grandfather holds dear. you should love him simply for that—taking a weight off the old man’s shoulders and putting his heart at ease—but you’ve seen an entirely different side of the so-called saint.
ever since you arrived at the ranch a few days ago, the one called boothill has been a pain in your neck. it took nothing more than you stepping out of your car for him to label you that city girl, the “little lady” who looks like she’s never stepped foot in mud a day in her life.
from that moment onward, it’s been nothing but sly remarks at your expense. you don’t miss the chuckles he makes no effort to hide as you refamiliarize yourself with the animals and get used to the scent of hay and manure. his not-so-subtle smirks when you’re simply passing by have been the most irking. your mere presence is seemingly a joke to boothill.
you’ve made it your mission to steer clear of the man but the task is proving to be difficult. the fact that he’s now living in what you used to know as one of the guest bedrooms coupled with your grandpa’s oblivious albeit innocent nature seems to be enough to throw a wrench in that plan of yours. 
your trip here was meant to be a relaxing getaway from the hustle and bustle of city life but you’ve only taken on a new role as boothill’s personal assistant if the tray with two glasses of lemonade is any indication. if it were up to you, you’d be enjoying a peaceful breakfast without worrying about the man bothering you but it’s just your luck that your grandfather caught you before you could make the meal, politely asking you to deliver a cold beverage to boothill who has been working since the sun rose over the horizon.
luckily for the farmhand, you can’t say no to your grandpa.
that’s how you find yourself wandering the grounds in your satin pajama set and the boots your grandpa prepared for your arrival. your legs move in muscle memory as you navigate the vast stretch of land in search of boothill. thankfully, you don’t have to go much farther, catching sight of the man at the entrance of the barn.
he’s gone for a simple look today—a white t-shirt and jeans paired with the dirtied boots you haven’t gone a day without seeing him in. his shirt is already stained and is darker around the neckline, dampened with sweat. he’s made an effort to tie back his black and white strands of hair, though, a few of the shorter ones have escaped and frame his face. the hat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing him in, strangely, isn’t sitting atop his head.
he must see you approaching out of the corner of his eye because he turns to face you, an immediate grin taking over his lips. it makes you grip the tray tighter.
he looks you up and down as he pulls off his gloves, stuffing both in his back pocket. when gray eyes settle on yours, he tells you, “nice get up.”
you roll your eyes because you saw a comment like that coming. everything you do down to the way you dress is scrutinized when it comes to him. even though you’ve only been here a short while, you’ve come to expect this kind of behavior from boothill.
he huffs out a laugh at your reaction before his gaze falls to the tray in your hands and the glasses that sit on it. “that for me, darlin’?”
against your will, your heart jumps in your chest. that, you haven’t grown accustomed to. you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to him throwing around pet names at you like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to him. it’s easier to blame the heat blooming in your cheeks on the sun’s beaming rays rather than boothill’s sweet talking.
you hold the tray out to him, hoping the effect of his words isn’t visible on your face. “courtesy of grandpa.” you can’t have him thinking this gesture was born from the kindness of your heart. his teasing would be merciless then.
“of course,” he drawls, grabbing one of the glasses and swallowing a few gulps. the shine of the lemonade is left on his lips when they pull away from the brim, his tongue poking out from between them to lick up the lingering drops. your eyes remain on his lips longer than they should, long enough to see them curl up into that annoyingly handsome smile. “little miss city girl wouldn’t be caught dead out here on her own accord.”
he can only stay charming for so long. “did you miss the whole part when my grandpa told you i grew up here?”
“no, no, i caught that.” he takes another sip of his drink. “it’s just that you strike me as the type who spent more time riding the horses than cleaning up after ‘em.”
you keep quiet and nurse your glass of lemonade because the only other option besides lying is telling him that he’s right. in your defense, what ten-year-old wants to spend their summer hauling hay and shoveling up horse crap?
“look,” you start, “i’m not some delicate glass figure who can’t get her hands dirty. i’m perfectly capable of helping out.”
boothill raises his eyebrows, a glint of humor sparkling in his steel irises. you know the look of a challenge when you see it and it almost makes you regret trying to defend yourself. “oh yeah? then the princess wouldn’t mind lending me a hand?”
“i wouldn’t,” you tell him. contrary to your statement, you really don’t want to spend more time with him than necessary, even if that means proving a point and settling some stupid argument. your mind races to find a believable excuse that’ll let you off the hook. “but i’m barely dressed to do any work. another time, maybe.”
he waves his hand in dismissal. “don’t worry, darlin’. what i’ve got in mind ain’t much work and won’t steal too much of your time.”
you nervously chew your cheek as boothill takes the tray that’s tucked under your arm, setting the now empty glasses on it and finding a place for them to rest. he nods his head in the direction he wants you to follow and, reluctantly, you do just that. he casts a glance over his shoulder to look at you. “just help me get this hay inside the barn, will ya?”
the job seems easy enough, a surprisingly straightforward request from boothill who seems to derive pleasure from giving you a hard time. too easy, you think to yourself as he heaves one of the rectangular bales of hay from the top of the stack. the task looks effortless when he does it, a short grunt being the only suggestion of exertion on his end.
he disappears into the red building and you take his temporary departure as an opportunity to pick up a bale of your own. you grab a hold of the twine keeping the hay in its shape and immediately grimace at the way the fodder pokes and prods at your palms. you’re tempted to let go and step away but you have a point to prove and plan on doing so. with a groan, you lift the bale, or at least try to. it’s heavier than you expect it to be and the scratching against your exposed legs is uncomfortable, sure to get worse with the distance you’re meant to walk.
you’re about to drop the bale back in place when a pair of arms reach around you, calloused hands joining yours to carry the collection of hay. boothill’s unexpected presence catches you off guard and the proximity of his mouth to your ear makes your breath catch in your throat. “having a bit of trouble, love?”
love? your skin prickles with goosebumps at yet another pet name. this time, it’s more difficult to blame the heat running beneath your skin on the sun. it takes a moment for you to find your voice and when you do, the ones you manage to get out refute his claim. “i’m not. i told you i wasn’t dressed for this.”
he snorts at your reply as though he can see right through the flimsy excuse. “right, well, you’re in my way, so why don’t i help you with this one?”
before you can protest, boothill is on his way, dragging you along with him. your steps match his, his bigger boots trailing behind yours as the two of you walk the path to the growing supply he likely started before you interrupted. you’re released from your place between the bale and boothill when he drops it on top of the other.
you’re free to make a move, to slip away from the charged air and reclaim your personal space. instead of doing so, you simply turn around to face him. you’re met with his broad chest before you tip your head up to meet his eye. “i could have done that on my own.”
“i’m sure you could have,” he says, but the smile pulling at his lips tells another story. he reaches behind him with one hand to pull the gloves from his pockets, waving them between you as an offer. “these might help.”
you happily take the gloves as he takes his leave, slipping your hands into the protective gear. they’re larger than you need and there’s extra space in them but you don’t mind, not if they’ll help you show boothill that you refuse to be reduced to some city girl.
and they do help, at least with shielding your hands from the unpleasant sensation of hay against them. the bales are just as heavy and just as awkward to haul but you’re able to get the job done, nonetheless. for every one you carry, boothill lugs two more past you. his familiarity with the job means the two of you are finished one within a reasonable amount of time. 
you drop the final bale with the rest, a relieved sigh pushing past your lips at a job well done. boothill stands off to the side and whistles as you snatch the gloves off, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “well, would you look at that.”
“surprised?” you ask, tossing his gloves back at him.
“honey, anyone can hoist some hay.” he catches the gloves with ease, stuffing them back in his pocket. you’re almost offended at how easily he dismisses your efforts but you don’t have time to let the annoyance sprout before he’s approaching you, tipping your chin up so that you have no choice but to look at him. “though, i doubt they’d look as pretty as you doing it.”
you can’t tell whether he’s trying to get a rise out of you or if he truly stands by his statement. all you know for sure is that his sugary words and the feel of his skin against your face leave you unmistakably flustered, so much so that you can’t control the erratic beat of your heart and can’t stop the little nagging voice in the back of your head from whispering that you don’t dislike him as much as you let on.
boothill is trouble, but not in the way you thought he would be.
“i have to go.” you knock his hand away and turn on your heel in a rush to get back to the house, far away from boothill.
you can escape the sight of him, the feel of him, but not the sound of him as he yells after you. “see you around, sweetheart!”
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thanks for reading! consider reblogging if u enjoyed :3
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✨Lead Us Into Temptation✨
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The poll didn't even finish before I started working on this lmao, hope you enjoy my first take on some very soft dom Luci!
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: You were a devout believer in life, but somehow you ended up in Hell with no real explanation. Most nights you can be found sitting on a bar stool in the lobby, trying to cope with what's happened to you. But one night while in an intoxicated state, you reveal your most hidden desires to the King himself...
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Warnings: smut, 18+, reader first time, hand job, fingering, tail play, oral (m & f receiving), p in v
"That's it, I'm cuttin' you off for tonight," Husk said sternly, whisking away your unfinished glass of whiskey. You'd been at the bar for only an hour and you've already downed five full glasses.
"Noooo, Husk c'mon...I'm fffffiiiinnee," you babbled, trying to push your head from the countertop unsuccessfully.
It's been a few months since you arrived in Hell after an unfortunate accident that ended in your early demise. But being a devout believer, you were so sure that Heaven would be your final destination. How wrong you were. You woke up in the fiery pit confused and scared, your body had transformed into that of a demon; you had become something you had feared for your entire life. When you first heard about the Hazbin Hotel, you nearly jumped at the opportunity for redemption. If there was even the slightest hope of getting out of here, you were going to take it. But your situation was more than troublesome, considering how you led your life up on Earth. On most nights, you could easily be found sitting on a bar stool, trying desperately to drown your sorrows and distract yourself from the reality you'd found yourself in.
What's worse...not everyone here is evil. It was ingrained into you that everyone down here in Hell deserved to be, they had earned this punishment. But getting to know some of the other residents at the hotel, that couldn't have been further from the truth! Was everything you were taught just a complete lie?! For Heaven's sake, Charlie, the literal princess of Hell, was the sweetest and kindest being you've ever had the pleasure of meeting! And Vaggie, a former angel, so devout to Charlie and her dream, you've never seen two people more in love. Angel, although a bit eccentric and over the top, cared deeply for his friends and was ready to fight for them at a moment's notice. It was all...not what you expected, and you had a very difficult time coping with everything that you had been thrust into.
"You're shit faced," Husk snapped back. "Look, I know you're havin' a hard time with all this. But drinking away your issues ain't gonna solve any of 'em. You need to sleep this off." He watched you stumble off the bar stool, your one foot catching the other, resulting in a rather pitiful fall onto the carpet. But you couldn't feel anything, the alcohol helped mask the pain you were sure to feel tomorrow. You couldn't help but giggle at your own clumsiness. "Oh, for fuck's sake..." Husk grumbled.
Before you could even attempt to pull yourself off the ground, you saw a pair of black boots approaching you in a rather hurried manner.
"Woah!" the voice exclaimed, "Are you alright? Here, let me help you!" In no time, your limp body went from lying on the lobby floor to being hoisted up and helped back onto the bar stool you fell from. You turned your head to see Lucifer's concerned face staring back at you. "Husk, what happened?"
"She's drunk," the cat demon explained, "I told her she was done drinkin' for the night and she ate shit trying to stand up. I was about to help her back to her room-"
All of a sudden, a shadowy presence started to form behind the bar. A static filled laugh was heard before Alastor had popped up, startling the bar tender. "Husker, my good man!," the radio demon bellowed, "it seems as though I am in need of your assistance."
"Fuck! Why can't you just walk in here like a normal fucking person?" Husk grumbled.
Alastor only responded with a light chuckle before fixing his attention on you. "My, my, what have we here?" Alastor taunted. You could have sworn you heard a low growl coming from Lucifer beside you. "I say, my dear, I've never seen you look worse than you do now. What a pity, all of those teachings really didn't help you in the long run, now did they?"
You felt tears threatening to fall from your eyes at Alastor's cruel words. If you were sober, you would have run the other direction as fast as you could. Alastor had been the other real soul you met who you knew with every fiber of your being belonged in this pit. But considering you had no inhibitions and clearly no chance of getting away, you picked your head up and slammed your fists on the table in righteous anger.
"Ohhh, eat shit youuuu *hic* smiling prick!" You tried to stand up once more, only for your legs to buckle underneath you. Luckily, Lucifer had caught you before your face had met with the carpet again. "I-I don't deserve this! 'Least I'm TRYING to redeem m'self!"
Alastor's malicious grin never faltered. "Oh, and what a fabulous job you're doing! I do wonder how a woman such as yourself has fallen so far from grace."
"Fuck off, radio freak," Lucifer snarled, barring his teeth and his eyes shifting to a deep crimson red and yellow.
“Oh, ho ho! Seems as though I’ve struck a nerve,” Alastor mocked. He made his way around the bar, now towering over you and the fallen angel. “Tell me, your highness, what is your fascination with this lost soul, hmm? I’m so utterly curious as to why you would give her the time of day when all she does is wallow in her self-pity and-”
“I. SAID. FUCK. OFF.” the king spat, his eyes now changing into a solid red and his voice deepening to match his threat. Though your vision was hazy, you noticed his horns had burst out from his temples. Whether it was the alcohol or something else entirely, your face suddenly felt very, very hot. “Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
Despite the immense danger, Alastor could only muster a sly grin. “It’s very rude to ignore my question.”
“I don’t have to do anything for you! Or have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” The way Lucifer spoke sent a shiver down your spine. “The only reason that you’re not a mangled corpse on the ground right now is because of my daughter. So, if you want to stay in one piece, I’d walk away right now if I were you…”
The two men's faces were just inches away from each other now. Alastor’s eye twitched as he glared back at Lucifer with pure distain. His eyes shifted to you only for a brief moment before standing up straight and smirking to himself.
“I suppose it really is no business of mine as to how you choose to mingle with the guests here,” the radio demon resolved. He turned around to walk away, but not before glancing at you once more over his shoulder. “They’re lost causes anyway. Come along, Husker!”
Lucifer’s demonic traits disappeared as Alastor finally left the parlor. “I hate that man.” He looked at Husk empathetically. “If I could break your arrangement with him, I would. I’m sorry. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” With that, Husk nodded and followed the radio demon down the hall, leaving you and Lucifer alone at the now empty bar.
You started to bawl as you clung to Lucifer for support. Immediately, he rushed you over to the couch and sat you down next to him, letting you cry into the crook of his neck.
"Hey, hey, shh," Lucifer soothed. "It's alright. Alastor won't bother you anymore, I'll make sure of it."
"It's n-not him," you sniffled, "it's everything! Al-stor's right, there's no savin' me."
Lucifer pulled you away from him, placing a hand under your chin as he looked into your glassy eyes. "Now what makes you say that?"
Another tear rolled down your face. "Is like he said, what I was taught up there...nothing's true! Welllll, except..." you placed your hand over the one holding your face tenderly. "Theeeyyyyy did say that you, Luciferrrr, were heaven's prettiest angel. They def-liny didn't lie about that!"
You noticed a small blush creep across Lucifer's face at your words. He pulled his and away from your face to clear his throat, glancing away from you. "T-Thank you. That's umm, very kind of you."
You chuckled to yourself, scootching your body closer him. "Do you mind if I *hic*, lay down, jus' for a sec. Gettin' sleepy.
"Yeah, of course!" Lucifer smiled, but only for a moment. "W-Wait, hold on!"
But by the time he tried to warn you, your head had already fallen into his lap. You smiled up at the flustered man and chuckled, the heat returning to your face once more. "You got soft legs, hehe!"
Lucifer inhaled sharply. "Husk was right, you really are drunk. Wouldn't you feel more comfortable laying your head on a pillow?"
"Nnnnope!" you replied.
"Alright then," the king breathed and massaged the back of his neck, doing his best to hide how tense he'd become from your sudden closeness.
"H-Hey," you called up to him, "why'd youuu...why'd you protect me jus' now? From Al-stor. You *hic* didn't have to..."
He looked down at you softly, brushing away the hair that had fallen in your face. "I don't like bullies. You didn't deserve that, and Alastor knows that for his sake that he shouldn't get on my bad side."
"Never seen you so mad." you mumbled.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he apologized, continuing to play with you hair. "I don't like bringing out that side of me. But Alastor really likes to push his luck for some bizarre reason."
"Awww," you pouted, "is too bad. I liked seeing that side of ya. It was HOT!"
Lucifer stopped his movements completely. “I-I’m sorry?”
“You heard me,” you responded poking at his chest. “What? Did ya think jus’ cuz I was a believer when I was alive that I’d be SCARED of ya? Maybe at first. Not anymore! I’m already in Hell soooo there’s no point in hidin’ it, is there?”
“Hiding what, exactly?” Lucifer gulped as if he was almost too afraid to ask.
You giggles and hid your face with your hands. “Noooo, you’re jus’ gonna laugh at meeee!”
Lucifer let out an amused hum. He gently took ahold of your wrists and lowered your hands away from your now completely beet-colored face. “I promise I won’t laugh at you, my dear. You’ve very much piqued my curiosity! And I’m very good at keeping secrets, you know! So please, let me keep yours.” He let go of your wrists, letting your hands fall onto your chest. You watched as he leaned closer to you, his half-lidded eyes piercing your very soul. “Won’t you tell me, my sweet angel?”
"I...*hic* I umm..." you babbled. It was clear that you were struggling to answer.
"Mind if I take a guess?" Lucifer offered as he went back to playing with your loose locks of hair. "Is it possible that you have a little crush on-"
"I WAN' YOU TO FUCK ME STUPID TILL I CAN'T 'MEMBER MY NAME!" you blurted out without any reservations.
"-me..." Lucifer froze at your confession. You could hear the sound of a pin drop with the deafening silence that now filled the air. With a big inhale, he straightened his back fully, placing both of his hands under you in a flash, not daring to look down at you. "Well, I-I think it's about time we got you to bed!" he nearly shouted as he scooped you up in his arms and stood up faster than normal.
You let out a small squeak of surprise with his sudden motion. With a snap of his fingers, a portal appeared next to you and he quickly carried you across the threshold and into your dimly lit room. With a flick of his wrist, your bedsheets were undone and Lucifer was able to lay you down gently onto your mattress. He reached over you to grab your undone comforter and pulled it on top of you, covering everything but your head.
"Okay! Uhh, s-sleep well!" Lucifer went to run through the portal, but not before you were able to grab his sleeve.
"D-Did I upset you?" you asked nearly on the verge of tears again? Lucifer still hadn't looked at you.
"N-No! No, angel, you didn't upset me!" he tried to sooth you, but you weren't buying it. You couldn't stop more tears running down your face. When Lucifer heard your quiet cries, he finally turned towards you in a state of sheer panic. "Ahh, no!" He kneeled down next to you, wiping your tears away with his free hand. "Please don't cry! I promise I'm not upset!"
"Knew it was stupid...," you sobbed, "shouldn't have told you..."
"Don't say that," the fallen angel cooed. "Okay, okay, look...If uhh, we're admitting things right now, I might as well too. Would that make you feel better?"
You sniffled a bit. "M-Maybe..."
Lucifer shut his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "I've had...similar feelings...about you, that is. So...no more tears, okay?"
You stared at the man before you, completely and utterly baffled by what you had just heard. "R-Really?"
"Yes," he whispered. "But we can talk about this tomorrow, yeah? You need some sleep; it looks like you're about to pass out."
He was right. Your eyelids felt as though they could give out at any moment, and the warmth from your blanket wasn't helping you stay conscious either. As Lucifer stood up, you still clung to his sleeve like your life depended on it. "Stay?" you almost begged.
He smiled weakly, taking your hand from his sleeve, and placing a small peck on the back of it. "Not tonight," he responded. "Sleep now, darling. I'll see you when you wake." You couldn't find the strength to respond, letting yourself drift off to sleep as Lucifer left you to dream.
Little did you know that he had disappeared to take a very cold shower.
****
When you regained consciousness, you felt the familiar pounding in your head after a heavy night of drinking. Begrudgingly you dragged yourself out of you bed and forced your way to your bathroom for a much needed shower. You realized when you glanced towards the mirror that you never changed out of your clothes from yesterday. In fact, you don't even remember how you got back to your room last night, Everything was such a blur, and it hurt to think with the major headache you were experiencing at the moment. The last thing you could recall was falling off the bar stool, the pain you felt in your shoulder was enough of a reminder. Once you stepped in the hot shower, you felt a little better, but only a little bit. You tried to rack your brain for answers, trying to remember exactly what happened after you fell. You ran your fingers through your hair, letting the water soak your aching body. But in doing so, something had clicked. That motion had unlocked a foggy memory. Your hair. Someone had run their hands through your hair last night, but you couldn't for the life of you remember who. It was gentle, soft, tender. But who would do that?
After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower and threw on one of the sundresses you had hanging in your closet. You really didn't feel like putting a ton of effort into your clothing choices today. Hopefully Charlie would forgive you for skipping out on her planned activity today and let you recover. You realized after that initially thought that you didn't even know what time is was. Chances were you had already missed it. With a groan, you plopped down back onto the mattress, your hair still damp.
"What's the matter with me," you asked yourself. "How do I expect to be redeemed when all I do is sabotage my chances by getting wasted every night?" Your headache persisted as you laid in your bed, you almost wanted to cry from the pain. But then, you heard a soft knocking at your door. Charlie, you thought. More than likely she was checking in on you to make sure you were alright. "I'll be there in a second!" you called out. The volume of your own voice didn't help your hangover in the slightest. You grabbed one of the small pillows off your bed for comfort and trudged your way to your door. "I'm really sorry I slept in Charlie," you spoke as you turned the door handle, "it was a...really rough night for me and I-" you stopped completely once you opened the door fully. Charlie, in fact, was not the one who had knocked.
"Yeah, you really did get put through the ringer last night, didn't you?" Lucifer smiled at you. The pillow you held fell to the floor with a soft thud.
“Oh, I-I’m so sorry, sir!” You stuttered. “I-I thought you were Charlie! Did-Did she send you?”
Lucifer looked at you with a puzzled stare. “Uhh, no, no she didn’t. I told her what happened last night and let her know I’d check in on you like I promised.”
“Promised?” you asked, but Lucifer didn’t seem to hear you.
“And you don’t have to refer to me as “sir,” my dear, “Lucifer” is just fine! I mean, you used my name just fine last night!”
Your heart stopped. “L-Last night? Oh no…what…what happened last night?”
Lucifer gawked at your question. “Wait, do you not remember anything?” You shook your head timidly. “Oh dear…well, nothing bad happened, I promise! What’s the last thing you can remember doing?”
You looked down at the floor sheepishly, embarrassed to admit the real answer. “The last thing I can remember is falling off the bar stool and…landing on my face…”
Lucifer stood there and pondered for a few seconds before speaking again. “Do you mind if I come in?”
“Oh, umm, yeah, y-you can come in,” you agreed. You picked up the pillow you had dropped and opened the door for Lucifer to saunter in. “I’m sorry I look like a mess right now, I-I just got out of the shower and my hair isn’t completely dry yet and-”
“Hey, hey, it’s alright!” Lucifer interrupted. “You don’t need to apologize. You look lovely, in any case.”
You brought the pillow in your hands up to your face in an attempt to hide your blush. “T-Thank you,” your muffled voice came through the pillow. "I-If you want, you can sit down on my b-ahh fuck!" One hand came up to your forehead when you felt your head pounding from the pressure that's been building since you woke up. This was definitely one of your worst hangovers to date.
"Oh! Are you alright?" Lucifer asked, his voice laced with deep concern.
"My head..." you choked out. You made your way over to your bed, crawling up to the top and cradling the pillow in your arms "Hangovers are never really kind to me."
Lucifer frowned, seating himself down on the edge of your mattress next to you. You felt your face flare up again when you looked up at his worried expression. "Can I help you? I can alleviate the pain. You only need ask."
"Y-you can?"
"Sure! Angelic power and all that." His hand hovered just above your forehead. "May I?"
"Yes," you breathed. With that, you felt his soft hand make contact with your aching head. You felt a warm tingling sensation emanating from his touch. It didn't hurt nor was it unpleasant, it was healing. Without thinking, you leaned further into his touch, letting the warmth spread throughout your entire body. Your headache slowly began to fade away along with the fogginess that had been plaguing you since you woke up. As his touch lingered, you realized you were able to think more clearly than before, memories from last night started to become clearer and clearer. You remembered Lucifer had come to your rescue after you'd fallen. You remembered Alastor had shown up to mock you in your drunken stupor, only for Lucifer to step in and defend you. You remember sobbing with Lucifer while he comforted you. Then you remembered...
You shot straight up, your heart racing a million miles a second, with Lucifer throwing his hand back in surprise. "What? What happened? Did I hurt you?" Lucifer asked in a panic.
"I'm..." you began, "I'm starting to remember things from last night." You clutched the pillow tight to your chest, refusing to look in the fallen angel's direction. "Please tell me I didn't actually lay down in your lap..."
"Uhh, well...," You could tell from his response that that's exactly what had happened.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" you apologized. "I shouldn't have done that! I-I know I drank way too much last night, I should have stopped, I didn't realize that-"
Lucifer's hand immediately flew to your shoulder in an attempt to get you to stop you from completely spiraling. "Darling, you don't need to apologize for that! You weren't feeling great so you just, ya know, used me as a pillow. And besides, it's not like I disliked it either."
"W-What?!" you nearly shrieked. Another realization had hit you just then. "You! You were the one that was playing with my hair! That's the only thing I could remember when I woke up!" You buried your face in the pillow once more. "If I said anything embarrassing..."
You heard Lucifer swallow hard. "I guess uhh, it depends on your definition of the word."
"Oh God, please no..." you pleaded. "What did I say?"
Lucifer held up his hand again as an offering, a weary smile on his face. "I can help you to remember, if you wish."
You let out a shaky breath but nodded in agreement. Lucifer's hand once again found its way to your forehead, a familiar warmth flowing through you once more. You closed your eyes and saw the images from last night flash before you. You saw yourself looking up at Lucifer who'd just asked you to tell him your little secret. But as soon as you remembered the drunken words that flew from your mouth at that moment, your eyes shot open and you flung yourself to the opposite side of the bed, as far away from Lucifer as possible.
"No. No! Nononononono!" you panicked, "I didn't-I mean I couldn't have, I...NO!" You couldn't stop yourself from crying into the pillow, ashamed and embarrassed at the thought of your past actions. "This is a nightmare..."
You felt the bed shifting beneath you as Lucifer crawled toward you hesitantly. "I'm sorry," he murmured behind you, "I know you must be feeling a lot of different emotions right now, but it's alr-"
"NO, IT'S NOT ALRIGHT!" You snapped, jumping from the bed in an attempt to put as much distance between you and him as possible. Your rage was quickly replaced with remorse when you saw Lucifer's shocked, almost hurt expression. You took a deep breath before speaking again. "I didn't mean you scream at you like that, I'm sorry...but you don't understand..."
"Then help me understand," Lucifer asked, now kneeling on the bed. "Please?"
You looked away from him and down to the ground, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest at the thought of explaining yourself to the literal king of Hell. "I...I grew up in church. I was raised as a believer. Told to be a “good girl." I was taught my entire life that Hell was a place to be feared, a place where the most evil of people end up. And I would be wise to fear it as well and repent so I would not end up there...uhh, here. That clearly didn't help me now, did it?" You let yourself drop to the bed again, letting your legs dangle over the sides. "My entire worldview just seemed to crumble around me when I started staying here at the hotel. Sure, there are some awful people here, but...it feels as though this "divine judgement" is...just completely fucked up! The guests here are better people than most believers I knew when I was alive! How is that right? How is that fair?!"
"Well," Lucifer interjected, "I can tell you first hand that Heaven is definitely not what it seems. I mean, have you seen the things they've said about me in that book of theirs?" he laughed, trying his best to lighten the mood.
You twisted your head over your shoulder, staring back at him with complete intensity. "And you!" You shot back up on your feet in an instant, pacing back and forth as Lucifer watched you completely mesmerized. "Where do I even start with you? You're Lucifer, the devil himself, the great deceiver, and temptation incarnate! Everything I was ever told about you is bullshit! You've been nothing but hospitable ever since I've been here! You protected me from Alastor last night! You took care of me while I was drunk! You didn't have to do any of those things, you shouldn't have done any of those things! You're not evil and it's...it's driving me to the brink! When Charlie had told me that you were her father, I was PETRIFIED! But nothing could have prepared me for finding out who you really were."
Lucifer slowly crawled towards you, climbing off the bed and now standing before you, perhaps just a tad too close for your comfort. "And who am I?" he asked softly.
Instinctively, your body drew itself closer and closer to his, as if you had no control of your movements anymore. "You're...an angel," you sighed.
Lucifer smiled at you, timidly resting his hand on your forehead. "Would you like to remember the rest of last night?"
"I already embarrassed myself enough to the point of no return so I might as well," you huffed shyly.
Lucifer chuckled, "Don't worry, the worst is over. But at least now you'll get to remember my favorite part."
The last of your aches in your body finally subsided as you let the rest of your previously forgotten memories flood your mind. It made sense that Lucifer would have been the one to bring you back to your room. Seeing yourself cry was not surprising to you, but what was surprising was Lucifer's admittance of reciprocated desires. You opened your eyes at last to the angel's sheepish grin. You took a half step away from him, your face feeling like the core of a raging volcano.
"You...you really..." was all you could muster.
"I'm not above embarrassing myself either, my dear," he joked, "I'd say we're even now."
"T-That's not even remotely close to being even!" you babbled.
Lucifer grinned and closed the gap between the two of you, taking one of your hands in his. "Regardless," he mused, "I meant what I said. Every word. And if you'd like to discuss this further, I'd be more than happy to listen." He pressed a small peck to the back of your hand just as he did last night. Even though your hangover had completely vanished, the brain fog had come back in full force. Maybe Lucifer was truly temptation incarnate.
"I-I can't believe this," you stutter, pulling your hand away from his and throwing yourself back onto your bed and covering your reddened face with your hands. "This has to be a dream, there's no way this is real! I'm sure I'm still passed out drunk right now! You're not supposed to be this way! You're supposed to be cruel and wicked and manipulative! Not..."
"Suave and oh so devilishly handsome?" Lucifer smirked.
"You're not helping!" You felt the mattress fold further under Lucifer's weight as he sat down next to you. "So...w-what happens now?"
"I mean, I can think of a few things," he answered smugly. "But in all seriousness, nothing will happen. Not unless you say otherwise."
"See, it's stuff like that!" you shouted, suddenly sitting up right. "Being respectful and considerate, constantly making sure I'm comfortable? That's not who you're supposed to be! I've just been fucking lied to my whole life and I'm PISSED and I'm finding it extremely difficult to not just...just...oh FUCK IT!"
Without warning, you grabbed Lucifer by the collar and crashed your lips into his. He let out a surprised yelp, but you had quickly swallowed it as his shock turned into pure bliss. His hands quickly found your face, cupping them and massaging your red-hot cheeks with his thumbs. Your annoyance had faded almost immediately, your fierce kiss had turned soft and passionate with his tender touch. You were the first to pull away, only to be met with Lucifer's pleading gaze.
"S-So much for being a good girl," Lucifer teased.
You pushed his face away gently. "I hate you!"
"That kiss suggested otherwise, darling."
"You should stop talking," you threatened.
"You should make me," he challenged.
In an instant, you were straddling Lucifer’s lap, your legs flush against his. You gripped the brim of his hat and tossed it to the floor below. You leaned in for another kiss, but this one was hungrier, needier. His lips were soft and you had already become addicted to his taste. You felt his jagged tongue brush against your bottom lip, and you pulled back in shock. “Is your tongue…” Lucifer flashed a cheeky smile and stuck out his tongue playfully. Sure enough, a forked snake tongue hung between his lips. “O-Oh, okay…” You weren’t sure how you never noticed before right now, but your lack of observation skills were the furthest thing from your mind right now. You closed your eyes and leaned in again, your mouth slightly ajar, basically begging for him to invade your mouth. To which Lucifer happily obliged. You felt his tongue slip past your teeth, entangling itself with yours. His hands had shifted down to your hips, kneading and lightly squeezing at your skin underneath your dress. The feeling of his claws pressing into you sent a shiver down your spine. More, more, more was the only thing you could think at the moment. But just as you got used to the feeling of his lips, Lucifer was the one to pull away this time. A tiny whimper escaped you. “Don’t worry, angel,” Lucifer cooed, “we have time. All the time in the world, in fact. I just want to make sure you’re alright. Do you want to keep going?”
The passion you felt was quickly replaced with fear. It hadn’t occurred to you that you had neglected to mention a pretty crucial piece of information. “Yes, I-I do, but umm…I should tell you…”
“Yes?”
“I…haven’t exactly…” you gulped trying to find the right words. “I haven’t been with anyone before…”
“Wait, wait,” Lucifer froze, “you’ve never-”
“No!” You cut him off. “L-Look, when it’s been drilled into your head since you were a child that premarital sex is going to send you to Hell, you’re going to avoid it!”
Lucifer let out a deep sigh, then chuckled to himself. “Okay, I have to admit something. That whole “sex before marriage is a sin” thing miiiiigggghhhhttt be my fault.” You raised an eyebrow. “They never got over the fact that I more or less stole Adam’s first wife. Of course we weren’t married at that point! Heaven’s been petty ever since.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, so it’s YOUR fault that I’m a virgin! Good to know.”
“Forgive me.” Lucifer allowed himself to lay flat on his back, with you following close behind. He raised his head and brought his lips to your ear. “But at your word, I’d be more than happy to rectify this injustice,” he whispered softly.
Goosebumps covered both of your arms at his words. You knew your face must have turned a new shade of red the way Lucifer smirked at you. You lowered yourself on his crotch out of spite and began to grind your hips lethargically. It was your turn to embarrass him. His breath caught in his throat from your motions, you could already feel that your lewd actions were having an effect on the man beneath you. The growing bulge in his pants that you felt on your own clothed heat had you salivating.
"You know, I-I'm not a complete novice," you admitted, your hands now making your way down his jacket, undoing every button with care. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve."
Lucifer pushed you back upright, now straddling his lap once more, and slipped himself out of his undone shirt. Aa you gripped his bare It took everything in your power not to stare at his perfectly toned chest. "And what "tricks"-hngg…would those be?"
You placed a chaste kiss to his lips before sliding off of his lap and kneeling on the floor in front of him. Lucifer's breath hitched instantly at the sight before him. You rested your palms on his inner thighs, your rapid breathing betraying your faux collected exterior. "I figured since I couldn't break the rules, I could at least bend them."
Lucifer firmly gripped the sheets beneath him as he watched your thumbs trace circles near his crotch. "Already on your knees for me, sweetheart?” he teased, running a hand from the top of your head, relishing in the softness of your hair, and down to the tip of your chin. “I didn’t know my powers of temptation would work so well on someone as devout as you.” You failed to hide the whimper that escaped your throat. “I’m sorry, I know I’m teasing you too much. I’ll stop if-”
“N-No, don’t stop…” you responded almost inaudibly.
A sultry laugh emanated from the man above you. “Oh, is that so?” You nodded. “Use your words, love.”
You shivered. “Please… remind me of my place…sir…”
He tilted your head up towards him, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Whatever you wish, my angel. You let me know if I go too far, okay?”
“Yes, I will.”
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Now, I believe you wanted to show me something?”
You took a deep breath before reaching out for the zipper and button of his pants. You made slow work of them, trying to be as delicate as possible. You grabbed both the hems of his pants and boxers, Lucifer raising himself up so you could more easily shimmy the remainder of his clothing off. His hardened cock sprang free, your face boiling from seeing the very obvious precum that had already begun leaking from the tip. After tossing away his pants, gripped Lucifer’ s hips and brought him as close to the edge of the bed as possible, your lips now mere inches away from his impressive length. You swallowed harshly. Breathing became an increasingly difficult task. With tentative hands, you reached out and lightly gripped the base of Lucifer's cock, his low moan sent pleasure straight between your thighs. There was no going back now.
"Go ahead, my dear," Lucifer encouraged, "show me how sinful those hands of yours are."
Without any further prodding, your hand move languidly up and down his cock, the precum providing enough lubrication for smooth strokes. Lucifer groaned above you, his sounds were everything you'd imagined and more. Your strokes became faster, needing to hear more of Lucifer coming undone from your touch alone. But even touching him wasn't enough to satisfy your desires. Your hot breath so close to his most sensitive area had Lucifer shuttering. And even more so when you decided to run your tongue from the base of his cock to the very tip. You'd finally gotten your first taste of him, and that sent you into a complete frenzy. Your tongue worked circles around the head of his length and you could hear Lucifer's guttural moans turn into whimpers of pure ecstasy.
"F-Fuck," Lucifer managed to choke out as he watched you bob your head and down, taking as much of him as you could manage. "You-mnmm...s-sure seem to know what you're doing. S-Shhiiittt...I-I'm starting to think you-GA-AAHH...you really do b-belong down here." Lucifer's composure was fading fast even though he continued his taunting. His words lit a fire within in, increasing your movements to an unrelenting pace. "O-OH FFFFUU-UUCCCKK," he screeched, his hand now tightening around your hair for an assemblance of stability. His overstimulated cock twitched in your mouth; you knew he was close. "Y-You're gonna make me c-cum if you keep doing thaa-ahhhht...but t-that's what you want, isn't it? You wanna taste m-my cum, sweet girl?"
"M-Mhmm," you hummed blissfully, your mouth and hand working in tandem to bring him over the edge.
"Then d-don't stop," he commanded.
You did exactly as he said, not slowing down for even a second. The thought of kneeling before the outcasted being that you were meant to despise with every inch of your soul drove you mad. Now here you were, unraveling him with your hands and mouth alone. Lucifer was using all of his willpower to not thrust his hips into you and completely fuck your mouth. That would have to wait for another time. But once your other hand started to gently massage his balls, it was over. "Fuck fuck fuck FUCKFUCKFUCK-CUMMING," he cried out before finally emptying himself inside your mouth. You couldn't move away even if you wanted to the way he way holding your head in place. But you were perfectly content swallowing every drop of his hot cum. When the twitching stopped, he had released his grip on you, allowing you to pull away from him and gulp down the last of his seed. You looked up at him with a nervous smile, your hands now resting on his knees.
"H-How'd I do?" you laughed sheepishly. But your laugh faded once you saw the change in Lucifer's appearance. His eyes were no longer his normal soft yellow, but a deep crimson red.
"Oh, my sweet little angel," his voice dripping with desire, "you were nothing short of absolute perfection. How absolutely filthy you are for swallowing all of my cum. I love it!" He offered his hand to you, helping you off of the ground. He stood with you, pulling at the bottom of your dress. "But I'm far from being done with you." With a soft "yes", your dress was dragged over your head and tossed to the side in one swift motion, leaving you nothing but your matching black bra and panties. Lucifer stood there drinking in your form, his outstretched tongue swishing from side to side. "Gorgeous," he hummed against your skin before bringing his hot mouth to your neck. You squeaked at the sensation, but your surprise rapidly shifted to wanton moans. His sharp teeth and forked tongue raked across your pulse, sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. "I'll make sure everyone knows you're mine now..." he pulled away and looked up at you pleadingly, "that is, if you'll have me."
You smiled, tears now pricking the corner or your eyes. "I'm already yours."
Lucifer's breath had caught in his throat as he captured your lips, your mouth being invaded by his eager tongue. He hoisted you up by your hips, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as you hooked your arms around his neck to pull him even closer than before. He laid you down on the bed sweetly, now crawling his way up towards you. Lucifer's body now completely enveloped yours. The angel's disheveled hair and the sweat dripping from his forehead was truly a breathtaking sight. His captivating red eyes felt as though they were piercing your very soul, searching for every hidden desire you had locked away. Lucifer licked his lips seductively. "If my memory serves, I recall a certain someone telling me that they found my unholier side...oh, what was the word..." Lucifer feigned forgetfulness as his horns appeared from his skull, "Ahh, yes, I remember now. "Hot." Isn't that right, darling?"
Your face flushed furiously. You mentally cursed your drunken self as you looked up at Lucifer's smug expression. His demonic features made you quiver with anticipation. You've all but sold your soul to the devil himself and you were more than willing to give him everything he wanted. His red claws made quick work of your bra, unclasping it with ease and throwing it across the room. The urge to cover yourself was overwhelming, but it was like Lucifer could read your every thought. He held both of your wrists and placed them above your head, holding them there with just one hand while the other made its way towards your chest.
“Be a good girl and keep your hands there for me,” he ordered.
You nodded obediently. You clung onto the pillows above you as Lucifer let go of your wrists, placing both of his hands on your supple breasts, mewling from the stimulation. Lucifer pinched your nipples, rubbing them gently between his clawed fingers. The sharp ends of his claws poked at your skin while he continued his ministrations. Your meek whimpers turned into moans.
“L-Lucifer, please…” you begged. “I-I need-GAH…”
“I adore the way you say my name, love,” he praised. “Say it again.”
“Luciferrr…” you whined.
He rewarded you with a kiss. “What a pretty voice you have, all desperate and needy for me. So willing to submit…”
He let his mouth fall on one of your nipples, lapping and sucking the sensitive bud while kneading at your other breast. Your nails dug into the pillows, fighting every urge to reach out and touch him. But you couldn’t stand it, obedience truly had its disadvantages.
“Please Lucifer, l-let me touch you,” the request fell from your lips in a desperate plea. “Let me hold you…”
“Hmmm,” his lips reverberated against you. “Patience, love, patience.” Lucifer’s demonic tail appeared suddenly behind him, swaying back and forth. You watched as it lowered itself close to the hem of your panties. Slowly, it inched its way underneath and found itself between your slick folds. You couldn’t hold back a gasp once you realized what Lucifer had planned. “Allow me to try something first.” After giving him the "okay", you felt him flick his tail against your clit, causing you to arch your back, moaning unashamedly in the process. It was circling your swollen nub slowly at first, but quickly built up to a relentless pace. Your body shook uncontrollably as his tail abused your clit. “The way your body reacts to me is such a wonderful sight to behold, sweetheart. Look at you, so easily corrupted.”
It wasn’t long before you cried out in absolute pleasure. You could feel that coil in your stomach ready to snap. You'd barely been touched and you were helpless to fight against your impending release. “F-Fuu-aaahhhh Lu-Lucifer! I-I can’t-HHAAAA-gonna c-cum…g-gonna-FFFUCK!” Lucifer ignored your cries, only focusing on your breasts as you writhed under his touch. You screamed as your sudden orgasm hit you like a freight train, your walls clenching around nothing.
With a low chuckle, Lucifer removed his tail from your drenched slit, admiring your complete fucked out face. "You did so well," he praised, "I promise I'll get you some new panties soon, it wasn't very nice of me to let you ruin yours." You turned your face away from his to hide your embarrassment, only for Lucifer to give you a small peck on your very reddened cheek. "You can move your arms now, darling." At his word, you released the death grip you had on the pillows behind you and pulled Lucifer in for another deep kiss. You felt his lips curl into a smile against yours. "Would you like to keep going?"
"Yes."
"Hehe, so eager," he said poking your nose, "it's adorable. I think it's only fair that I get to have my fill of you now, don't you think?"
Your pupils dilated. "O-Oh, you mean..."
"Is something wrong?" he asked nervously.
"No! No, nothing's wrong," you reassured him, "it's just that...no one's ever offered to uhh, do that for me."
A mix of annoyance and confusion flashed across his face. "Wait, what?!" He sat up straight, resting his full weight on your stomach. "So, let me see if I'm understanding this correctly. You've gone down on men before but not one of them ever offered to return the favor?" You shook your head nervously. A fearsome growl erupted from Lucifer's throat and his eyes had turned a glowing red for just a moment; you couldn't help but shiver. "I'm sorry, but that's inexcusable! Hell isn't enough of a punishment for men like that. To only take and never give back." Lucifer made his way off of you and helped you sit upright against the pillows. "Please allow me to make up for their sins."
"O-Okay," you responded weakly, "only if you want to. I never want you to feel like you have to do anything for me."
He leaned into you for a tender kiss. "Darling, I want nothing more than to ravish you in every way possible; you deserve that and much, much more." You couldn't help but blush at his flattering words. "Lift your legs for me?" You did as he asked, allowing him to tug at the hem of your panties. You held your breath as you watched him drag them down the length of your legs and toss them away carelessly. You closed your legs instinctively, though you realized it was a little bit too late to try and hide yourself from him at this point. Lucifer only smiled and positioned himself in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. "It's alright, take your time," he soothed.
You nodded and let out the breath you had been holding. Lethargically, you began to part your legs for him, letting him finally drink in the sight of your soaked entrance. You noticed him gulp in response and couldn't hide the small smirk on your face. "Like what you see?"
Lucifer licked his lips mindlessly, staring at you like you were a meal to be devoured. "You have no idea," he answered, never taking his eyes away from of your glistening pussy. He laid himself down on his stomach, trailing soft kisses on either side of your inner thighs, leaving nothing but tender bite marks and hickies in his wake. With each passing second you became more and more restless, wanting nothing more than this torment to end. But Lucifer was savoring every bit of you and your heart couldn't help but feel full. At last, you felt his hot breath against your pussy, your body tensed at the sensation.
"Lucifer..." you whispered.
He placed one final kiss to your thigh. "For as long as I live, I'll never tire of hearing you say my name," he spoke sweetly, "Relax for me as much as you can now, love. And if you need to, you can grab my horns. They're there to help you."
"W-Why would I need to gra-AAAHHH" you tried to ask but were cut short after feeling Lucifer take a long, languid lick up your folds. It was something you'd never felt before, but you knew you needed more of it, and you needed it now. Luckily for you, the fallen angel between your thighs was more than happy to provide. His lips were pressed firmly against your aching cunt while his tongue quickly found your clit. The noises you were making were unholy but you couldn't imagine a more heavenly feeling. He moaned against you desperately, as if your essence was his life source. Without warning, Lucifer tossed your legs over his shoulders to give him better access to his prize. In your haze, you remembered his suggestion and took ahold of his demonic horns, doing your best to keep yourself grounded.
"God damn it," Lucifer snarled, "To think no one has done this for you, f-fuck, what complete and utter fools they were. I've never tasted something so divine." You felt his claws dig into your skin as he forced his tongue deeper into you, drawing out the dirtiest sounds you didn't know you could make.
"F-Feels so g-good," you babbled, your hands tightening around his horns. "P-Please don't stop, I-I..."
One of Lucifer's arms unhooked itself from your leg, his fingers now prodding at your slick. His tongue never stopped circling your clit as you felt a single finger slip inside you with ease. You whimpered from the sudden intrusion. "C'mon baby, need you to cum f'me." Another finger quickly entered you, two of them now thrusting in and out of you. "Let me taste you, all of you." Lucifer's tail swished behind him as he focused on coaxing another orgasm out of you. His tongue and fingers worked together to bring you closer and closer to the edge once more. His fingers curled inside you, your back arching as he hit your most sensitive spot with each motion. "I can feel you clenching...you're so close..."
And he was right. That same coil in your lower stomach was as tight as it could be, the knot threatening to unravel at any moment. "Lucif-fer, I-I'm gonna...fuckfuckfuck-GAAAHHH!" With little warning, your second orgasm hit hard, your walls now pulsating around Lucifer's fingers which refused to stop moving. You felt yourself empty onto his face, your cries filling the room, your hands stinging from how tightly you held onto his horns. As Lucifer helped work you down from your high, you couldn't help but notice the loud slurping sound that came from beneath you. He was lapping your cunt like a man starved. After another moment or two, Lucifer gazed up at you adoringly, his mouth completely drenched in your juices. Your hands flew to your face out of pure embarrassment. How could someone look so happy after basically being assaulted by your orgasm. "Y-You can't just look at me like that after you just did what you did!" you berated him.
"Look at you like what?" he teased, crawling on all fours and closing the gap between you. He gently pulled your hands away from your burning face and gave you the toothiest grin you'd ever seen from him. "Look at you like I'm the luckiest man in existence, you mean?" Lucifer kissed you once more, and you could taste the faintest hint of yourself on his lips. "And by the way, I'm absolutely addicted to your taste now, my angel. I hope you don't mind if I indulge myself every single day from now on. With your permission, of course."
You could only smile at him, caressing his face in your hands and locking your lips together once more. "Who would've thought the devil himself would be this perfect? I'm starting to believe that you may have fully corrupted me, my king."
The way his title rolled off your tongue made Lucifer shudder. "Not quite yet," he corrected. He laid you down gently as he trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone, stopping periodically to nip and suck as many parts of your exposed skin as he could. He then laid his full weight on top of you, and you could feel his hardened cock resting on your stomach. Your mouth ran dry, but you never needed something as much as you needed this. Needed him. To fully claim you and make you his. "Is this what you want?" Lucifer asked. "Because if you're not ready, we can stop right now. I won't be upset if that's what you decide."
You shook your head assuredly. "I'm ready, Lucifer. Even though I may not ever make it into Heaven after this, I'm not sure I want to anymore if it meant I'd have to leave you behind." You could tell by Lucifer's sudden change in expression that the thought of losing you if you were to be redeemed had never crossed his mind. His face fell at the realization, but you reassured him with a quick peck to his forehead. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. And we can worry about the details later. But right now..." you ground your hips up into him, forcing a low moan out of your lover, "...I need you...please…"
"Oh, you're just a little devil, aren't you?” Lucifer chuckled darkly. He then pushed himself off you, settling himself between your legs. The head of his cock teased your entrance, and you gulped in anticipation. "Are you ready?”
"Y-Yes," you murmured. Your body instinctively bucked up in attempt to create more friction that you so desperately craved. Lucifer pressed your hips down firmly into the mattress to keep you from squirming. You whimpered in protest.
“Ah ah ah, all in good time,” Lucifer cooed. “It’s your first time, love, I don’t want to see you in any pain. Stay perfectly still for me, alright?” After what felt like an eternity, Lucifer at last pushed the tip of his cock into you. Your knuckles turned a solid white from the way you gripped the bed sheets beneath you. The pressure you felt was unlike anything else. “A-Are you still okay?” Lucifer asked.
“M-More, please Lucifer, I-I need…” you choked out. He was only an inch deep inside of you and the only thing on your mind was the carnal desire of having him fully sheathed inside of you.
“My pretty girl,” he whispered above you. Inch by inch, his hips pushed forward, stretching you out beyond what you thought was possible. Once he was finally fully inside of you, you and him moaned in unison. The complete fullness you were experiencing was something you needed to be engrained into your memory forever. He didn’t move for a minute or so, letting your body get used to his above average length. He didn’t want to break you. At least, not tonight. "S-So tight, f-fuck..." Lucifer's entire body quivered as his enormous angelic wings magically sprung from his back. You stared up at him in awe, taking in the heavenly sight above you. Your eyes followed from the base of his wings to the very tip. Lucifer noticed your gawking and laughed lightly. "My eyes are over here, darling."
You blushed incredibly hard. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. It's just...they're beautiful. Can I...? You didn't need to finish your question as Lucifer dropped his wings down, allowing you to reach up and feel them for the first time. You ran your hand down each set, your fingers combing through his scarlet feather. They twitched under your gentle touch. "Are they sensitive?"
"V-Very much," Lucifer breathed. "We can experiment another time, though."
"A-Another time?"
Lucifer looked down you puzzled. "I hope you didn't think this would only be a one time thing. That's not who I am, despite anything you may have heard. When I said I wanted everyone to know you were mine, I didn't mean just for tonight."
Your eyes began to water from his declaration. "You mean..."
Lucifer leaned down and kissed the tears that had began to fall down your cheek. "Yes, I do. I'm yours, if that's what you desire."
You smiled weakly, holding back a sob. "Yes, it is." You brought your hands up, cupping his face and kissing his trembling lips tenderly. Your kiss caused Lucifer to twitch inside of you, quickly reminding you of the pressure between your legs. "Y-You can move now, Lucifer...please..."
With a deep exhale, Lucifer pulled out of you slowly, only to snap his hips back with no hesitation. He repeated this motion, slowly at first, coaxing as many sound out of you as he could. Your cries of pleasure were intoxicating, pulling him deeper and deeper into a state of pure bliss. His hips rutted into you at a steady pace as he continued to hit your G-spot effortlessly with each thrust.
"You're d-doing so well, love," he growled animalistically, "t-taking me so well. You f-feel so good. Too good...Take it all f'me, want you to feel all of m-me. Look how g-good you are, taking the Devil's cock like this."
"L-Lucifer," you mewled. You couldn't form a coherent thought anymore, all you could manage to say was his name. "Lucifer, f-fuuu-uuck...Luciferrr."
"That's it, dear," he praised, the pace of his thrusts quickening. "My name on y-your lips is more beautiful than any melody I ever heard in Heaven." His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer to him as he mercilessly pounded into you over and over. "G-God, you're so fucking wet. Slipping in and out of you s-so easily. You g-gonna cum for me again?"
"Y-Yes!" you cried out helplessly. "I'm close, so c-close, I can't..." Your hands flew around his neck as your body shook violently beneath the fallen angel. Your stomach felt like it was in knots, you didn't know how much longer you could hold out. "G-Gonna cu-aaaAAHH,"
"Hold on j-just a little longer, baby," Lucifer said, wrapping his tail around your abdomen. "I'm close too...w-where do you want me to-"
"INSIDE! P-PLEASE!" you screamed, locking your legs behind his back. "I c-can't hold it, Lucifer, I can't, I can't, I CAN'T!"
"Naughty girl..." he taunted lovingly. "Cum for me now, angel. Need t-to feel you clench around me. Cum for me."
The coil inside of you snapped for a third time, your walls pulsating around Lucifer's cock. Your spasms had left Lucifer groaning, his head now resting on your collarbone. His own orgasm washed over him not long after you. You milked his cock, his hot angelic seed filling you up your cunt completely. Wave after wave of pleasure filled you both, reducing you to nothing but exhausted and sweaty messes. He stayed inside of you for a moment longer, both of you trying to recover from your release. Lucifer finally found enough strength to remove himself from you, and at long last reverting back to his normal state. He crashed down on top of you, looking at your through his half-lidded eyes and pulling you into a crushing hug.
"Lucifer...can't...breathe..." you forced out, tapping his shoulder rapidly. His grip on you loosened immediately.
"I'm sorry!" he apologized. "I forget my own strength sometimes. H-How are you feeling?"
Your faced flushed as you tucked your hair behind your ear. "G-Good. More than good. That was...just incredible!" you couldn't help but laugh to yourself.
"What's so funny, dear?" Lucifer asked with an amused look.
You smiled at him. "Oh, you know just...I was thinking about how I would go about explaining myself to my friends and family back on Earth. How the well behaved, never strayed from the light church girl just had the best sex of her life with the one and only fallen angel Lucifer. Wonder how well that would go over! They probably think I made it into Heaven!"
Lucifer laughed along with you, pulling you flush to his chest. "I'll admit, it's pretty ironic. But to be fair, I never would have thought you'd give me a chance."
You looked up at him confused. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you know, I am 'the bad guy' to believers. The winners always write history, and according to Heaven, I was the loser. And when I found out you were one of them when you were alive, I didn't think you'd even glance in my direction. I thought you were the most stunning creature I'd ever laid my eyes on when you first arrived here at the hotel. But I never truly pursued you because...the bad guy never gets the girl, right?"
You couldn't help but frown as he spoke. His voice was sad, full of hurt. It was clear that Lucifer has suffered though a lot of pain and anguish. You were told the story of Eden growing up, of how Lucifer had deceived Eve and in doing so, caused the downfall of humanity. But that was clearly only one side of the story. You gave a quick peck to his cheek. "You're not a bad guy, Lucifer. I know that now. I let my fear and my upbringing cloud my judgement before. Not anymore. I want to hear your side of the story, every detail. Will you stay with me and tell me?"
Lucifer's eyes softened, his lips forming into a tiny smile. "I'd love nothing more." He brought his hand to your cheek, leaning in to capture your lips once more.
~~~
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10,000 GOD DAMN WORDS, WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!?! ANYWAY, I HOPED YOU LIKED IT!
Taglist: @ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj
@bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps
@ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel
@seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht
@raindropsfromheaven @slutforlucifermorningstar @lola576 @ag-cookiebat800 @victoriousvic
@rand0m-1diot @lonelynmisunderstood @cosmic-lavender @yourmom132 @liveontelevision
@luci-lover-forever @lolalovesmorningstar @moonlight-readings @mel-windle @la-undercover-latina
@yve-barr @certified-cry-babyyy @literallurker @leviskittywh0re @thornwolfy235
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pinkeos · 2 days
Text
Dad!Aventurine Headcanons
Warning/s: None and reader's gender isn't mentioned, whether the child is adopted or your own is up to you
Notes: I wish I had a dad🧍 /j
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im fully convinced aventurine is a girl dad and it's hard to convince me otherwise
with his job, dad!aven couldn't spend that much time with his little girl as much as he wanted, the days where he wasn't needed to leave for different planets were far and between
and when he leaves, it takes weeks to months before he comes home despite trying his very best to finish his assignment quickly so, even though he knows it won't exactly be comparable to his presence in his daughter’s life, he sends gifts and toys. whatever she wanted, he’d give it to her
dad!aven would often call you when he's away, face timing to see and talk to you and your daughter. it'd send a pang of guilt and pain in his heart to see the frown and the tears she held back whenever he said he wouldn't be home yet
he’d be the type to rewatch the videos you’d send of you and your kid just enjoying your days whenever he misses you both, a smile on his face as he grows more determined to finish his work to come home to you
he loves his family, and treats you two as his most precious treasures, more precious than anything else in the galaxy. you’re the only ones he has left, after all. he thought his luck had ran out when you and your daughter entered his life, because he couldn't get any luckier
but whenever the man’s home, oh boy does the house get so lively
dad!aven would go along with his daughter’s wishes, doing whatever she wanted so you often had to help your husband wipe the thick make up off of his face that your daughter applied on him when they played
you remember walking in on them having a pretend tea party where they gossiped about the other ‘guests’ which were her plushies, he looked like he was enjoying it more than your daughter
they'd make bracelets together, and he'd proudly wear the bracelet his daughter made for him even though the colors didn't really look that good together or with his outfit. in his eyes, it was perfect and he'd bring it up to whoever he was talking to at work even though no one asked
dad!aven would be the type to sneak sweets for your daughter even though you told him not to because dinner was almost done, he was a victim to your daughter’s puppy eyes and pout
he once spent a day out to bond with his daughter, insisting you go and rest and have some you time while he takes care of your daughter. you later found out he took her to the casino, and the way you scolded their ears off after made him remind himself not to do it again
dad!aven was an entirely different person than the aventurine of the ten stonehearts. he was but a loving father that treasured both you and his daughter
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“daddy, move! you’re heavy!” your daughter whined as she tried to push her father who was leaning against her on the couch as they waited for you to finish preparing for the day out
aventurine dramatically gasped, looking down at his daughter with a faux offended look, “do you not want my love and affection anymore?”
the child, who genuinely thought she hurt her father's feelings, stammered, “n-no!”
“‘no’?” he echoed, his acting skills quite helpful when teasing his little girl as he looked away, sniffing as if he was actually crying
“i-i mean!” she stood on the couch, wrapping her short arms around his shoulders, “i still want daddy’s hugs! even when im older! i don't want you to leave again!”
his teasing might've gotten a bit too far when she began to sob, aventurine internally panicked as he embraced her, rubbing her back, “hey now, daddy was just teasing.”
“why is our little girl crying, kakavasha?”
the moment he heard your voice, he knew he was done for
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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days
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Hi! I have a writing idea, but I neither have the skill nor the motivation to turn it into a full story, so I thought of sharing it with you because *grips you by the shoulders with tired eyes* you have soooooo many writing ideas, and most of them inspired this brainrot in the first place
It all starts with Tim Drake living the good life. He's married, he has an aquarium full of fish, he's Aquaman's No. 1 Rival in being loved by fishes, and he's a mentor of most Young Heroes of that generation.
He's literally a grandpa (grand-uncle? grunkle?) with a good relationship with his brothers and Bruce, and a loving and spicy relationship with his partners (I can't choose between Kon and Bernard so they're poly)
He dies of old age with no regrets, content with his life and full of hope for the future.
And then he wakes the fuck up.
What. Was. Was none of that real? Did everything good that happened just a dream? A figment of his imagination?
Because not only did he not wake up, he woke up in a pool of his own blood within Titan's Tower. Jason was still there, painting on the wall with the blood that Tim spilled, still wearing that laughingly atrocious costume.
This.
This is bullshit.
Was his life too good that the universe decided "Ha. Fuck you. You need to suffer more, Bitch," and chucked him all the way to the past?
Jason notices him awake, picks up Tim's bō, and prepares to whack Tim.
But Tim barely cares. He's hurting in so many places. He misses his husbands. He just wanted his forever vacation.
He closes his eyes and just waits for the unconsciousness to happen.
It happens, and the next time he wakes up, Nightwing is hovering over him, and Batman is walking away to hunt Red Hood down.
Tim takes in a deep breath. Exhales slowly.
And then, he screams, "GET THE FUCK BACK HERE, YOU GODDAMN FURRY."
Bruce pauses in his walk, Dick is gaping, and Alfred simply blinks at the side.
"YOU GONNA GO SEE JASON? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO? SLIT HIS THROAT? YA BETTER STOP WHERE YOU FUCKING ARE BEFORE YOU DECIDE TO CONFRONT HIM, BECAUSE BY DIANA, YOU'RE MESSED UP IN THE FUCKING HEAD, YOU KNOW THAT?"
Dick tries to placate him. "Tim, calm down--"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, DICK! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS FUCKER DID ON MY BIRTHDAY?! ASK ALFRED BECAUSE HE WAS IN ON IT, TOO!"
Tim was panting now. But he didn't care. He remembered heart to hearts with Jason. He remembered how he and Jason had matching neck scars, and how much pain Jason's face was in when he shared what happened between him and Bruce.
"We need to restrain, Bruce. He's going to kill Jason. He's going to put Jason back in the grave if we let him go out."
Everyone pauses, Dick and Alfred's eyes widened in horrified shock. Bruce's face paled.
Tim may have exaggerated a bit, but they don't know that. Because Jason still died. His heart restarts later, but it really doesn't erase what happened.
"I don't kill."
Tim scoffed.
"Just because a man doesn't die at that moment, doesn't mean he won't die later if he's left for dead.
"Jason is going to make you choose between him and the Joker. You're going to save the Joker. And Jason? Because he's no longer how you remember him? He's going to be left with so many injuries caused by you. And you'd want no one helping him, because you don't believe that the Jason that came back is even him anymore. Ergo, an indirect killing, Batman."
Tim glares at Alfred. "I don't fucking care if you're on Bruce's side." Then, he snarls at Dick, "And I don't fucking care if you know Bruce more than I do!"
"I don't give a damn that Jason hunted me down for some twisted revenge or some shit.
"But here's what I do care about: I worked too hard in making sure that the idea of Batman doesn't get tarnished. I'm Robin now. I'm here because I believe you need a Robin. And I'm going to do my fucking job of being your leash if it's the last thing I do!"
Bruce is just fucking standing there.
Tim wants to rip that cowl off.
He already went through sooooo many heartbreaking conversations with Bruce in his old life. Why does he have to go through this again?! Did Jason and Bruce not talk about this with each other in the other timeline?! Does Tim have to bridge their relationship and mediate like he does when Dick comes to visit?
Fuck this life.
Ahhhh, Tim misses his husbands so much, why couldn't they regress back in time with him?
After a few moments, Bruce.
Fucking.
He fucking leaves!
Tim gapes, he glances to Dick with his disbelief clear on his face, and then he grabs a pillow and screams into it.
Fuck. Fuck-fuckity-fuck-fuck.
Tim is soooooo not doing this anymore. He's 16 again, c'mon! He doesn't even feel any of his joint pains (which may be because of the anesthesia, but whatever.)
Tim turns to Dick with a grim expression.
"Call Superman," he says. "And Wonder Woman, and Martian Manhunter. Heck, even call Green Lantern and Flash."
"Why?" he asks.
This motherfucker even had the gall to be confused.
"Because you're the Justice League's eldest child that they raised together as a village," Tim says slowly, as if he's talking to a preschooler. "Let's not give a fuck about the 'no metas in Gotham' rule, and start giving a fuck about all we could accomplish by letting so many adultier adults help us."
Thank Billy Batson Dick nods.
"We're gonna save Jason?"
Tim shrugs, lies down, and tugs his blanket over his whole body. "I don't give a fuck about Jason, Dick."
"Wha--"
"I just care about making sure that Batman doesn't turn into a villain to his own children. He's already fucked up so bad with you, Dick. We gotta make sure he doesn't fuck up any more, especially when Bruce wants to bring Jason home some time later when he stops being an ass."
Tim makes a mental note to make sure that Bruce doesn't get any mind control technology on his hands either.
He hears Dick sigh, slide his chair back, and probably stand up.
"I'll be back," he says softly.
Tim grunts like the true bat-child he is.
Finally, Dick leaves.
Unfortunately, Alfred was still here.
In the previous timeline... Tim never got a heart to heart with Alfred about all the things the man did and didn't do. And he thought he moved on but...
This is the man who gave him the Robin suit first. This is the man who he helped take dishes away from the table every time Dick and Bruce gets onto their violent screaming matches. This is the man who everyone put on the pedestal, but is Tim's equal in everything regarding Bruce's wellbeing.
And it hurt. It hurt so much when only Tim is witness to all of this man's flaws.
°°°°°°°°°°
Aaaaand then I got nothing else to add. I have no idea where I was going with this but here is the culmination of my hatred for Batman, my disenchantment with Alfred, and my need for Tim to scream his heart out because, no. Tim did not die contentedly. He did not actually die a natural death of old age. And the only hope for the future he has is of him meeting up with Kon and Bernard in heaven while everything else on earth can crash and burn for all he cares.
Hello!!!! I'm so glad you shared this and for the compliments. It makes me really happy to see people sharing their AUs. It kind of feels like a community project? People will reblog or do asks for different AUs, so lots of people end up contributing. I love that this is the direction this blog has taken.
As far as what you've shared? Positively beautiful. Fuck Bruce, Tim deserves the chance to scream, and I agree about Alfred. I love that man.... but only some versions of him. What he did to Tim was foul, and his tendency to just stand aside (to not stop Bruce) is horrid. Fuck that bystander shit.
For your time travel AU, I love that he died peacefully and old before being thrown into the hell that was his childhood again. Even worse, it's during Titan's Tower, so he can't change anything that leads up to that. He's thrown smack into the thick of all the drama and bullshit.
Also, rip Tim's relationships in the AU. Unless his husbands got transported back in time with him, he wouldn't be able to fall in love with them. He'd look at their younger selves and see them as the children they are (and the kid he no longer feels like).
To add onto that, he might feel older than Bruce too. If Bruce is 35 ish in this and Tim was like 70, he probably sees Bruce as a grown adult who's also a baby. That man needs to get his shit together, but gods is he so fucking young and stupid.
Special parts I loved:
Fish loving Tim more than Aquaman
Tim going from hard-earned decent relationships with his family to the sewage of his Robin years
The acknowledgement that Tim was Alfred's equal on taking care of Bruce (and how much that betrayal hurt)
Jason actually dying when his throat was cut (that's my hc too)
Tim immediately getting the JL involved
I would so be down with exploring this AU more. Your writing is also fantastic!
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graveyardcuddles · 2 days
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Rhapsody - Astarion x GN!Reader one-shot
You and Astarion are ready to embark on a new journey together. You begin by shedding a painful piece of his past.
A/N: I'm brand new to hobby writing, and this is my first ever fic! This was based on something I actually did with my Tav and Astarion in-game.
tags/warnings: sfw, established relationship, gender neutral!reader, nondescript reader, tavstarion (reader is tav), kissing, in-game spoilers, angst, hurt/comfort, brief mentions of Cazador-related trauma, feelings, fluff.
Word count: ~2000
It's a quiet early evening in the Elfsong tavern. The private room you share with your lover is warm, windows shuttered and curtains drawn. As you entered the room, you froze, stopping to admire the sight before you. Astarion was resting in the comfort of your shared bed. Trancing, to be precise. He hadn't been trancing these past few days, and the sight of your silver-haired love resting peacefully filled you with relief. Slowly, you peel off your boots and make your way over to your resting vampire. Your hands and knees sank into the plush of the bed cautiously in an attempt to avoid disturbing his trance. He was roused from it easily. Eventually, you managed to settle your head on the pillow, simply observing him in a rare moment of peace. He lay unnaturally still, chest unmoving, eyelashes resting delicately where his lovely dark circles ran under his eyes. Hair tousled, collar bones just peaking out of where the top buttons of his shirt clasped together. His face was calm, with no trace of tension he usually had during his night terrors. You smiled. Eventually, your lids grew heavy.
It had been only a week since you and your companions had destroyed the world-ending threat of the mindflayer Grand Design. Your little group of unlikely friends were declared Heroes of the Gate. You should be feeling triumphant, but your victory had been bittersweet. Despite taking pride in the fact he had been one of its saviors, Baulder's Gate would always remain host to Astarion's worst memories. Just returning to the city alone was overwhelming for him: facing his old stalking grounds, his siblings, Cazador. Your relationship had only recently evolved into something more after his confession in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. You knew this would be difficult and messy for him, but you were already hopelessly devoted to this beautiful broken man who was finally trusting you with his heart, wholly and freely.
So you took his heart in your hands and held it gently through all his anxieties and fears. Through the sleepless nights, the sobbing, the flashbacks, and phantom pains. All of which only increased as his confrontation with Cazador drew closer, and the promise of power and security that came with ritual became more and more tempting to him. You feared dearly that you were losing him and that your love and pleas for him to see reason wouldn't be enough to stop him. The fear wound itself around you like a bramble, the heartache gnawing away at you daily.
In the end, your worst fears did not come to pass. He rejected the profane power of the ritual in return for freedom with you. In that bloody moment when Astarion finally ended Cazador, you were in awe of him. His glorious spirit and strength. You allowed him to let out over 200 years of grief and rage. Watched closely as he came back to himself. Helped him back to the Elfsong to clean him up and tend to his wounds. Later on that night, after things had settle and he was in the aftermath of his victory, you had asked him what he wanted now that he was free. "You," he had answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It was you that he wanted.
He had taken you to the very soil where his two hundred years of torment had begun and made love to you in that very place as a declaration of his new life and freedom. He cleared away every painful thorn of doubt and fear covering your heart, much like he had cleared the vines growing over his tombstone with his own two hands. The beginning of a new life with you. Sadly, the two of you hardly had time to properly celebrate Cazador's death before returning immediately to securing new allies and calculating battle strategies against Orin, Gortash and finally the Netherbrain's forces themselves. It had all been a whirlwind in which neither you hardly had any time to truly relish in Astarion's new liberation.
You would never forget that horrifying moment the sun had turned on him. It's once gentle warmth that had given him so much comfort on your journey now becoming a burning, searing light. When you found him shortly after, hidden behind some crates, he was still scarred from the light. His face and hands were ashened, pieces of what were once his flesh practically flaking off in cinders. He was panicking, and you tried your best to stay calm for him. You offered him your wrist, reminding him he needed blood to heal. It only seemed to further distraught him. He was just as furious as you expected him to be and more so. Furious that after everything he went through, he was being forced back into the shadows again. Furious at you for pitying him. Furious at Cazador. But most of all, he was furious at himself for having dared to have hoped again. For thinking that just because he had been a very good boy and helped to save the world that the gods or fate or anyone would take pity on him and grant him this one thing. But no.
He sat there on the ground, knees drawn up to his chest. He had yelled so much about how foolish he had been to expect any outcome other than this, you half-expected his voice to give out. Eventually, he went quiet for a few long minutes before looking up at you, his beautiful red eyes full of sorrow. He tried to smile at you, but it broke off into a scoff.
"I'm never going to see you in the sunlight again."
He let out a long laugh full of bitterness before pressing his face back into his knees and breaking into a sob. It was then that you closed the gap between you two, holding him as wept. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to take him by the shoulders and swear a paladin's oath to him personally that he WOULD walk in the sun again. That you were making it your life's mission. But you knew that wouldn't help him now. It wouldn't lessen the sting. It wouldn't soften the blow. Right now, he needed to mourn, and so mourn you let him.
You held him there and let him weep in your arms. When you offered him your blood again, he finally accepted, drinking in your healing essence and regenerating the scorched skin and flesh. You caressed the newly healed skin softly, kissing it with tenderness and reassuring him that he looked good as new. Later on that same evening, after you managed to make it back to Elfsong with him and were together in bed, he took your hand in his.
"I want to apologize, darling," You were confused, but he continued. "I acted abhorrent to you in a moment of weakness. I was so... angry about what I had lost. I was blind to what I still had in front of me."
He cupped your face, stroking the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Your sweet vampire. You took his hand and kissed his knuckles one by one. You reassured him that he had nothing to apologize for. The sun was one of the few pleasantries from his mortality that he could relish in again while tadpoled. The caress of its rays had become synonymous with freedom itself for him. And with the new love between you two. To have that ripped away would make anyone angry.
It was then that you told him that you WOULD help him find a way to walk in sunlight again. He had been surprised to hear you say so, as if he had expected you to write it off entirely as an impossibility, as he already had. But your words seemed to spark a new sense of hope in him. It was what he said next that took you off guard.
"That is...if this is what you want?" Your heart dropped. Surely he didn't still doubt how you felt about him? "I can understand if you would want to part ways..." Even as he says it, his eyes momentarily drop to the floor, and he sways a bit uneasily.
He is still always expecting the worst. Anticipating more grief. You took his hands gently into yours, telling him that if you thinks you're seriously going to break up with him now after everything you two have been through together, then he's going to have to start being a LOT more annoying. Because he isn't getting rid of you any time soon.
The next several days would be spent together, processing everything you had gone through. Your companions had all gone their seperate ways fairly quickly after a hasty celebration: Wyll and Karlach to Avernus, Lae'zel to war against Vlaakith, Gale to return the Crown to Mystra, Shadowheart with her parents and Halsin with his foundlings. After only a few days, it just you and Astarion left in the city. You had stayed by his side throughout this time, only ever leaving to get food or check on the acquaintances you had made in the city. But you were both growing restless. He appreciated your presence, but you could tell the time was coming for the both of you to move on from this place and make a new adventure for yourselves together.
You hadn't even realized you had fallen asleep until a few hours had passed. As you open your eyes, you see your pale elf has moved from the bed. He's seated on the floor, in front of the chest full of the shared things the two of you have gathered along your journey. You slide off the bed, and he turns his head to smile at you. "There you are," his eyes were a soft shade of carnelian in the warm lamp light. You came to sit by him. He seems concentrated on whatever he's holding. You touch his shoulder and look to see what he's examining. A dagger. Not just any dagger but one that made your blood run nearly as cold as Astarion's. Rhapsody. The dagger Cazador had used to scar his back, and the one which would ultimately end his wretched existence. Nineteen times. Astarion had stabbed Cazador nineteen times. You had counted each stab. Presently, he was turning the blade in his hand with a contemplative expression.
"Hideous, isn't it?" He scoffs. You noted he was taking care to only touch the dagger's ornate hilt and pommel, avoiding touching the actual blade at all.
"Is it..?" You stared at the twin design of the twisting gnarled metal.
"Silver? Naturally. How else is one supposed to permanently scar a vampire?"
You bit back the sympathetic words that were lingering on your tongue, knowing he wouldn't want to hear them now.
"Pretty effective at killing vampires as well, I'd say." You quipped gently. Astarion hummed in response, but his expression remained contemplative.
"Yes. I suppose it might be somewhat useful if we ever get on the wrong side of another vampire," he mused. You lean in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you pondered the dagger. "True. Could also be useful if Petras ever decides to come around and bother us."
You're almost startled as he throws his head back and barks out a loud laugh. He sets the dagger down as it's obviously lost his attention for the moment. "Darling!" He exclaims. "You were the one who convinced me to save the poor wretch! Twice, in fact! Only to want him dead now? I mean, it's understandable, but clearly, I'm having a bad influence on you."
You couldn't help but smile back. This was the most you had seen him smile or laugh since losing the sun. His laughter was so light and airy it made your heart burst. "Yes, you are such a very bad influence on me, Astarion."
You crawled over to him, eyes locked. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and his gaze softens as you asked permission to go further. He answers by giving you a series of playful kisses leading along your jaw from your earlob to your lips. He locks on those lips and deepens his kiss, going slow and taking his time. A deep, passionate kiss. Your hands find their way into his curls, and they twine their way around your fingers loosely. He sighs into the kiss, whole body relaxing into you. When you pull apart, he's smiling, a touch of melancholy still lingering on his features.
"I saw you in my reverie," he says unexpectedly. You listen to him intently as he continues. "We were leaving the Shadow-Cursed Lands after Shar's curse had been lifted. I hadn't seen the sun in weeks, and then there you were, bathed in its light. I hadn't realized until that moment how beautiful you were in sunlight." He smiles sadly and kisses your hand.
You give his hand a gentle squeeze and look him in the eye. "And it's a sight you will see again one day, my love. I promise you." Your arms come around him and hold him close, stroking his hair and simply letting him feel. After a few minutes, he seems to come back to you. "I want to leave this stupid city already," he says plainly. You chuckle and pull away from him. "Me too, my love. We can leave as soon as tomorrow if you'd like."
Astarion's gazes at your travel chest again. He takes out the dagger again, looking at this time with disgust. "And I want to get rid of... this thing," he says with bile in his voice. "It's hideous, just like everything else Cazador ever commissioned. All that damn wealth, and I swear it's like he challenged himself to own the ugliest pieces of art he could." He huffed and shook his head. "I want to throw this damn thing away." An idea came to you. Looking towards the clock, you note there's still a few hours left before sunrise. "Would you like to get rid of it now?" You ask him, careful to only present it as an option. He's still getting used to making big decisions, and you don't want to pressure him. He looks at you. "Gods, yes."
The two of you head out into the warm night air of the city, and Astarion's nose almost immediately wrinkles in offense. "Gods, how have they still not managed to fully get rid of that rotting squid smell? I thought there were clean-up and recovery efforts underway." You roll your eyes. "There have been clean-up and recovery efforts underway, silly. They've gotten rid of all the Mindflayer corpses already. Your nose is just sensitive." Cloaked in night, the many little homes making up the vast reaches of the Outter City light up on the horizon before you. You walk together and tell him all about the acquaintances you've made in the city and how they had been faring after the chaos of the battle.
Eventually, you make your way to your destination: the docks of Baulder's Gate where you had all pulled yourselves ashore after crash-landing the Netherbrain into the sea. Astarion slows down as you walk along the dock. The last time he was running for his life, burning up in the sun. You hoped returning here with him to do this will make for a proper end to your illithid odyssey. At you stop at the dock's end, you take Astarion's hand in yours. You say nothing, waiting on him to make the next move.
He sighs and takes out Rhapsody, giving it a final look. For a moment, you wonder if he might hesitate. He stares at the blade intensely, holding it as if its weight were far greater than it physically was. Two centuries of terror. Without any further warning or fanfare, the dagger is airborne. For a split second, you can just barely make out a tiny glint of moonlight reflecting off the blade as it flew through the air. With a small splash, it's gone forever. Astarion lets out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in. "You monster!" You exclaimed with mock horror. "You just murdered some poor innocent fish!"
Astarion rolls his eyes. "Maybe the Hero of the Gate should go and rescue the poor thing." He grabs you around your waist, his newfound vampiric strength catching you off-guard. He spins you around as if he means to literally throw you off the dock, and while you're fairly certain he's joking, you panic nonetheless. You let out a high-pitched "ASTARION!" that practically comes out as a shriek.
He's giggling like a madman as he sets you down, holding your shoulders for a moment to steady you. "You're lucky I love you as much as I do, you know," you mutter as he continues to laugh at how easily he can tease you. "You're adorable when you pretend to be annoyed with me," he says. The two of you sit on the dock together for a long while, holding hands and simply taking in the starlight dancing on the water. "There's something else I wanted to discard as well, actually." He reaches into his pocket and produces two rings that you recognize as the twin Szarr family rings you had used to unlock your way through Cazador's mansion.
Astarion contenplates the rings in his palm. "You know I..." the words catch in his throat, seemingly paralyzed. You wait for him to continue, and after a few moments, he shakes his head, a smile barely perceptible.
"It's nothing, my dear. You know Cazador really did have the most hideous taste in things, including jewelry. Can you imagine wearing these? Ugh." You take one of the rings and examine it. "Hmm. Not my style, I'll be honest."
"That's because you're not blind, darling." He stands up and prepares to throw it.
"Together?"
"Together."
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sysmedsaresexist · 1 day
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I do not mean to sound stupid, but I read your post "dissociation is not solely trauma-based", and I was wondering if you knew of any sources or books about it? I think I don't fully understand what dissociation is. For exemple, no matter how I look at it, I don't understand how meditation could be considered like anything close to dissociation, simply because it's also used as a grounding technique.
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I'm combining two asks here, because I'm going to cover both in one go :) you don't sound stupid.
You've got to start with the understanding that dissociation is a continuum from normal (aka nonpathological) to "abnormal" (I hate that word, but aka pathological). I finally dropped the wild existence of Dr Jamie Marich, clinical trauma specialist and a pro endo, CDD system, who wrote Dissociation Made Simple. Let me quote because the book is actually good.
Yes, dissociation is so hard to understand that she wrote an entire book about the concept.
"The English word dissociation comes from the Latin root dissociātiō, meaning “to sever” or “to separate.” At this point when lecturing, I usually ask my students: What are we severing or separating from when we dissociate? You may take a moment, before reading on, to ask this question of yourself. Try not to think on it too rationally. Listen to your gut-level response...
For the purposes of this opening chapter, let’s focus on the form of separation that every human being can likely relate to —severing or separating from the present moment—especially when the present moment becomes unpleasant, overwhelming, or otherwise painful."
Dissociation is a disconnect from something-- this can be memories, thoughts, emotions, or, in worst cases, reality. The present moment.
Not all meditation is dissociative, but most is. For example, emptiness meditation is about disconnecting from everything in the moment. You are literally fine-tuning your dissociative techniques. This is also true when you're using grounding meditation to disconnect from overwhelming emotions or thoughts to get back into the moment.
There are a variety of tasks that we either develop naturally or learn as a way to achieve some degree of separation (e.g., enough to stay somewhat present but still get some relief, or going further into totally cutting oneself off from in-the-moment presence). Dissociation of this nature is not all or nothing—it generally happens in degrees and can depend upon how much distress you feel in any given context. We can do this by daydreaming, drifting off, zoning out, zoning inward, disengaging eye contact with people, losing focus (especially when driving), or getting a little floaty in many other life circumstances. Some people frame this “floatiness” as similar to hypnotic trance and others feel it is quite distinct. We may even take deliberate steps to enhance the experience of separation. How often have you escaped into a book or a movie, into your phone or computer, or into some activity, because it makes the harshness of dealing with the present moment and the emotions it can elicit somewhat more bearable?
Let me be very clear, if you said yes to this question, this answer does not mean that there is anything wrong with you! All of these can be quite ordinary forms of dissociation that every human being is capable of experiencing.
A really, really good way to understand this concept is actually through maladaptive daydreaming (MADD), a highly addictive form of dissociation.
Indeed for many of us, substances or other behaviors that cause major surges of dopamine (e.g., spending, computer games, sexually acting out) can become the accelerant of dissociation...
Whenever we become accustomed to dissociating, especially as children growing up in complex trauma, our brain becomes bonded or some would even say addicted to that state of escape. Once chemical or other reinforcing behaviors are introduced to us, they can accelerate that already familiar experience and we become further bonded to that behavior.
Daydreaming itself is dissociative. Point blank. It is both the most normal kind of dissociation, and yet the most common maladaptive dissociation.
Daydreaming and journeying into my head’s imaginative scenarios is another series of behaviors that can have both adaptive and maladaptive qualities. As a kid, they kept me safe. As an adult, they are the source of so much of my creative power—yet if I engage them too long, too hard, or too much, I run the risk of getting lost and not being able to attend to what helping professionals might call my activities of daily living (e.g., eating properly, sleeping, taking good care of myself, getting to work, attending to loved ones appropriately and with good boundaries).
Let's cut away from the book really quickly to look at Eli Somer, the guy who came up with MADD.
Maladaptive daydreaming is a dissociative disorder: Supporting evidence and theory.
The only real thing I want to quote is:
Although trauma may be one causal factor, we indicate several other etiological pathways to the development of MD. We discuss associations with related concepts and suggest directions for future research.
And
MD is strongly related to dissociation and seems to rely on an innate tendency for absorptive and imaginative fantasy. Through its rewarding properties, this form of immersive daydreaming becomes abnormal. MD may thus be viewed as a disordered form of dissociative absorption.
While Somer talks about how it can be a behavioral addiction in that paper, I find this is a more succinct description.
Maladaptive Daydreaming: Epidemiological Data on a Newly Identified Syndrome
Maladaptive Daydreaming (MD) is a proposed mental disorder characterized by excessive, compulsive immersion in vivid and complex fantastical daydreamed plots, generating intense emotional involvement, often accompanied by stereotypical movements. This addictive absorption in daydreaming becomes maladaptive as it consumes many hours a day, generates shame or guilt, hinders achievement of short- and long-term goals or tasks, and overall causes clinically significant distress and/or interferes with functioning in social or occupational realms. Maladaptive Daydreamers (MDers) report a strong urge to daydream whenever they can and annoyance whenever they cannot, and, repeated unsuccessful efforts to control, cut back, or stop daydreaming, like other behavioral addictions.
And that's the best way to look at DID and other maladaptive, pathological forms of dissociation. It's a behavioral addiction, an escape that we not only crave, but can no longer live without. Just like you can get addicted to working out and gambling, you can become addicted to severing ties with reality through pleasurable (and in some cases, necessary) forms of escape.
I don't know if this is going to make sense, but I've found looking at dissociation like an upside-down iceberg helps me.
At the top, the widest part, is everyone on the planet, and the basic, general concept of dissociation. Severing from the present moment, be it through your phone, book, daydreaming, meditation, zoning out.
As you go down, and it gets narrower, it becomes more important to put names to specific types and forms of dissociation, and fewer people struggle with these forms. In the middle is a confusing mix of seemingly normal and pathological dissociation. You have mediumship, authors with living characters, OCD (yup), ADHD (shocking, I know), MADD, DPDR, (C)PTSD, people on the edge of forming behavioral addictions.
At the bottom, the smallest point, only pathological dissociation, with a much smaller population experiencing it. DID, OSDD, severe and chronic DPDR, DA.
For people that struggle with dissociation... they fell down a hole and travelled all the way to the bottom of the iceberg. What was once a general, normal, human experience became a very specific problem. Over the years, as they travelled deeper, they used and developed a complex mix of various normal dissociative reactions until it eventually became a named, pathological experience.
I sincerely hope that this helps explain and answers both questions ):
Here's another really interesting paper (from none other than, DUNDUNDUN, Colin Ross).
Maladaptive Daydreaming, Dissociation, and the Dissociative Disorders
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valkyriexo · 3 days
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Invasion of Privacy | Ep. 2 - Favors
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ᑉ³SYNOPSIS; In the dazzling world of fame, you have it all—a beautiful home, devoted fans, and Chan, the love of your life. But when cryptic messages start arriving, the line between adoration and obsession blurs. With each note, you feel increasingly unsafe. Now, you're on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth before it's too late.
ᑉ³PAIRING; Chan x Idol! reader. Ft. Stray Kids
ᑉ³GENRE; Smau, FF , Angst, Hurt, Comfort, mystery
ᑉ³GENERAL WARNINGS ; Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, mentions of blood, Home invasion, cursing, Kissing, Pain, death, Implied female reader, Certain episodes may be Suggestive MDNI
ᑉ³EPISODE WARNINGS;  Death, Suggestive MDNI, Cursing
EPISODE WORD COUNT; 4.7k
AUTHOR'S NOTE ;Surprise! Episode 2.. have you ruled some people out yet?
If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Whether it's through comments, reblogs, or sending an ask, your feedback means the world to me.
Master Post | Teaser |
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The morning sun casts a warm glow over the bustling streets as you and Chan make your way through the vibrant shopping district. Surrounded by a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, you feel a sense of excitement bubbling up within you.
As you stroll arm in arm with Chan, laughter spills from your lips, the carefree atmosphere infectious as you revel in each other's company. The windows of the shops lining the street display an array of enticing goods, each one tempting you with its allure.
Entering a boutique, you're greeted by a wave of delightful scents and the soft melody of music playing in the background. You browse through racks of clothing, giggling and flirting as you playfully model various outfits for each other.
"What about this?" he asks, trying to contain his smile. You can't help but burst into laughter at Chan's suggestion, his playful grin infectious as he holds up the most outrageous garment he could find.
"This could work perfectly for the family dinner."
"Oh, absolutely," you reply with a playful grin, "I'm sure my parents would love to see you show up in that."
"You know what? I think there's a matching one for you," he says with a sly grin, disappearing into the racks of clothing.
Moments later, Chan emerges from the racks of clothing with a triumphant grin, holding up what can only be described as a fashion disaster. The dress in question is a riot of colors, with clashing patterns and textures that seem to defy all sense of style. But what truly sets it apart are the dozens of teddy bears, each one seemingly hand-sewn onto the fabric with reckless abandon.
"Voila!" he exclaims, unable to contain his laughter at the sight of the garment.
"Chan, what on earth is that?" you manage to choke out between giggles.
Chan's eyes widen dramatically, a look of mock horror crossing his face. "What? You don't like it?" he exclaims, his voice filled with playful disbelief. "To think, I put so much effort into finding the perfect ensemble, only to have my impeccable taste called into question."
You play along with his theatrics, pretending to be remorseful. "Oh, forgive me, fashion guru," you say with a grin, reaching out to pat his arm consolingly. "But that thing looks like it was designed by a kindergartener on a sugar rush."
Chan chuckles, unable to contain his amusement any longer. "Okay, maybe not the best choice," he admits, his laughter blending with yours as you share a lighthearted moment amidst the racks of clothing.
"Ooh, what do you think of this one?" you ask, grabbing a dress that caught your eye. As you hold the dress in front of you, its allure is undeniable. The flowy skirt cascades from your hands, swaying gently with each movement, while the corset top adds a touch of allure and sophistication to the ensemble.
The corset is expertly tailored. Its intricate lace-up design adds a hint of drama and elegance, drawing the eye to the sculpted lines of the bodice.
Chan's eyes light up as he gazes at you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Absolutely stunning," he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. 
"The dress or me?" you say.
Chan's grin widens as he steps closer, his gaze lingering on you with unabashed appreciation. "Well, the dress is lovely, But you? You're dangerous"
You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Dangerous, huh?" you echo, feigning innocence as you tilt your head, "And why's that?"
Chan's grin widens. "Well, it's simple," he says, his voice a smooth, seductive murmur, "because you make heads turn so hard they might break necks." The words hang in the air, thick with implication, as he leans in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours.. "You make it impossible to look away, sweetheart."
Before you can respond, he closes the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It's a moment of sweet surrender, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine as you melt into the embrace.
When he finally pulls away, a knowing smile plays at the corners of his lips, his eyes alight with affection. "See what I mean?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Absolutely dangerous."
You can't help but laugh at his corny yet utterly charming response, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you at his words. "Smooth talker," you tease, nudging him playfully
"Smooth talker? Nah, I prefer to think of myself as a master of compliments," he quips, his tone light and playful. "But hey, if the shoe fits..."
As you glance past Chan, your laughter fades as something catches your eye through the boutique window. Your gaze falls on a figure standing farther away, amidst the bustling crowd of people passing by. Despite the distance, their eyes seem to lock onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
You freeze for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to make out their features through the crowd. You realize that their features are obscured not just by the throng of people, but also by an oversized hood and mask that conceals most of their face, leaving only a vague silhouette in your line of sight.
With a surge of determination, you shove the dress into Chan's hands, your urgency evident in the abruptness of your movements. "Hold this," you instruct him quickly, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination.
Before Chan can react, you turn on your heel and bolt out of the boutique, your heart pounding in your chest. Pushing through the wave of shoppers, you make your way towards them, only to find that they have vanished into the crowd, leaving behind nothing but an eerie sense of déjà vu.
"Where are you going?" Chan's voice breaks through your thoughts, his tone laced with concern as he noticed your sudden change in direction. Frustration mounts as you search fruitlessly for any sign of the stranger, your senses on high alert. But no matter how hard you looked, they were gone.
"I saw... something," you reply cryptically, your focus solely on tracking down the shadowy figure that had captured your attention.
Chan's hand finds yours, his touch grounding you in the midst of your swirling thoughts. "Saw what?" he questions, his tone gentle yet insistent.
"I-....Nothing....Nevermind," you murmur, shaking your head slightly as you try to dismiss the unsettling encounter. Despite Chan's comforting presence, the memory of the mysterious figure lingers in the back of your mind
"Are you sure?" Chan asks, his concern evident in his voice. "We can stay if you want, but if you're feeling unwell, maybe we should head home."
You consider his suggestion, feeling a sense of relief at the prospect of leaving the bustling street behind. "Yeah, let's go home," you agree, a small smile playing on your lips. "And hey, how about we cook lunch together? It could be fun."
Chan's eyes light up at the suggestion, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I like the sound of that," he says, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "Let's get going then." With his hand in yours, you allow him to lead you away from the busy street
Once home, you kick off your shoes and settle into the cozy ambiance of your shared space. Chan wastes no time in heading to the kitchen, his enthusiasm for cooking evident as he gathers ingredients and starts preparing lunch.
As you watch him move around the kitchen with practiced ease, you find your thoughts drifting, a slight fog settling over your mind.You know you should be helping him, but the weight of your thoughts is making it difficult to focus. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, swirling with uncertainties and unresolved questions.
"Hey, could you help me out with this?" Chan's voice breaks through your reverie, snapping you back to the present.
You blink, realizing you've been lost in your own thoughts. "Sorry, what was that?" you ask, your voice slightly distant.
Chan gives you a concerned look. "I asked if you could cut this cucumber for me," he repeats, holding out the vegetable and a knife.
You take them from him, trying to shake off the fog that clouds your mind. "Right, sorry," you mumble, feeling guilty for not being more present.
As you slice through the cucumber, your mind still feels preoccupied, the uncertainty weighing heavily on you. Chan's voice brings you back once again.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone gentle as he looks at you.
You meet his gaze, offering him a weak smile. "Yeah, just lost in thought," you reply, though you know it's more than that.
After your reply, Chan sets down the ingredients he's working with and moves closer to you. There's a determined yet gentle look in his eyes as he takes your hand, pulling you away from the cutting board and towards him.
Without a word, he guides you to sit on the edge of the countertop opposite him. His touch is comforting, grounding you in the present moment as he stands between your legs, his hands resting on your waist.
"You seem really on edge," he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Is there something specific that's bothering you?"
You hesitate, feeling the weight of your unease pressing down on you. "I don't know," you murmur, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
"You don't know, or you don't want to talk about it?" Chan's voice is gentle but probing, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow.
"I don't know," you confess. "I'm just feeling.....weird."
Chan's lips brush against your neck in a tender gesture, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. "Feeling wierd huh...." he murmurs against your skin, his warm breath sending a wave of tingles through you. You find yourself nodding, unable to form coherent thoughts as his lips continue their mesmerizing dance along your skin. The tension that had gripped your shoulders begins to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of warmth and arousal.
"Does this help?" his kisses growing bolder, more insistent. His hands wander down to your waist, tugging you closer. You feel the heat from his body even through the layers of clothing, his arousal pressing insistently against your stomach. You nod again, feeling your face grow hot as your body reacts to his touch. "You always help," you reply softly, melting into his comforting touch as his lips trail along the sensitive skin of your neck. 
He looks up, meeting your gaze with gratitude and affection. Leaning in, you close the distance between you, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. The soft, sweet press of his lips is everything you've dreamed of and more.
He moans softly as your tongue darts out to tease at the seam of his lips, eagerly granting you access. You can taste the faint traces of peppermint on his tongue as it slips into your mouth, tangling with yours in a heated dance.
You sigh happily, losing yourself in the kiss as the world seems to fall away around you.
He slides a hand up the back of your neck, gripping your hair and using it to pull you closer to him. His mouth moves over yours, hot and hungry.
"Tell me what's on your mind, love," he urges, his voice husky with desire.
"It's...it's nothing," you breathe, gasping slightly as his hand tightens in your hair. " I was just... just thinking.." you stutter as he trails a line of hot kisses along your jaw.
"Mmmhmm" he purrs, his breath warm against your skin.
His hands slide down back down your sides, caressing your hips and then moving further south to cup your ass. He squeezes firmly, making you gasp in surprise, and then grinds his hips against you, causing a jolt of electricity to shoot through your body.
"Chan," you moan, arching your back and pressing closer to him. You want more. Need more.
"Hmmm?" he hums against your lips, kissing you again.
"You're distracting me."
He smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "Maybe that's the point," he murmurs, his hand moving to your front to palm your breast through your shirt.You whimper softly as he continues to explore your body with his mouth and hands, teasing you mercilessly until you can’t take it anymore.
A faint sound interrupts the tranquility of the moment. It's barely noticeable at first, like a distant melody weaving its way into the room.
Chan lifts his head slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Did you say something?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with curiosity.
“Chan, want you..” You beg.
He smirks against your lips and pulls away slightly, looking down at you with dark eyes. “What do you want?” he asks, voice low and husky.
“Tell me what you want, baby. I need to know.” You swallow thickly, your face heating up at the way he stares at you with lust in his eyes.
He growls low in his throat and leans back down to kiss you again, more forcefully this time. His tongue slips past your lips and into your mouth, exploring every inch of it. The taste of him fills your senses and makes your head spin.
"You."
His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, caressing your skin. You can't help but arch your back, pressing closer to him.
"Please..." you beg.
He trails kisses down the column of your neck, his lips and teeth leaving a path of fire in their wake. He bites down on the junction where your neck meets your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and you gasp in pleasure.
His fingers deftly unbutton your shirt and push it aside, revealing the black lace bra underneath.
The faint sound interrupts the tranquility once more, barely noticeable amidst the intimacy of the moment.
Chan lifts his head again slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Did you hear that?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with curiosity.
You shake your head, the sensation of his touch still lingering on your skin, your attention fully focused on him.
He frowns and turns his attention back to your exposed chest, placing kisses in the valley in your chest . He lets out a contented sigh and moves lower, trailing kisses along the curve of your stomach.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs against your skin. " but i know something that taste so much sweeter"
Your breath catches in your throat as his lips brush against your inner thigh, teasing the sensitive skin there.
He pulls back and looks up at you, his dark eyes burning with desire.
"You want me, baby?"he asks, his voice rough with need. You nod wordlessly, unable to speak. He smirks and places another soft kiss against your skin, making your whole body shudder. "Say it."
"Y-yes."
"Say my name," he commands, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thighs.
"Chan."
"Again."
"Chan."
"Louder."
"Chan!"
"Mmmm."
His tongue darts out to lick a stripe along the seam of your panties, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.
You can feel his hot breath on your core, teasing you through the thin material. You moan, arching up against him, and his hands move lower, slipping into your panties. His fingers brush over your folds, and he lets out a low growl as he feels how wet you are.
"So wet for me already, babygirl?" he murmurs, his lips pressed against your ear.
"Yes," you breathe, squirming under his touch. "I need you, Channie."
The sound persists, growing slightly louder this time, and you both become aware of a subtle vibration beneath you. Gradually, realization dawns as you exchange a puzzled glance.
Chan ran a hand through his hair, his brow furrowed in frustration. "Okay," he muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and determination. "I know I'm not going crazy."
With a sudden jolt of recognition, you reach into your pocket and retrieve your phone.
You glance at the screen, irritation flaring up as the same unfamiliar number flashes once again. Chan shoots you a pointed look, his annoyance palpable.
"Who is it?" he mutters, his eyes narrowing.
"It's some number ," you reply, your frustration mirroring his. "They keep calling me, and I don't know who it is."
With a sigh, you decline the call and return the phone to your pocket.
"Well, whoever it is, they can wait," he growls, leaning in to continue his previous actions.
The phone vibrates once again, the display illuminating.
You both let out an exasperated groan as the ringing persists.
"This is ridiculous," he huffs, his lips curled into a frown. "Why won't they just leave a message or something?"
The phone continues to ring, its shrill sound cutting through the silence of the room. You sit up, reluctantly untangling yourself from his embrace, and reach for your phone again. "Fine, I'll answer it," you grumble, pressing the answer button with more force than necessary.
"Must be important if they're calling this many times," he remarks under his breath.You offered a strained smile in response before finally speaking into the phone, trying to keep your frustration in check as you greeted the unknown caller.
"Hello?" you say, trying to ignore Chan's comment.
"Hello, Y/N."
"Yes? Who is this? How do you know my name?" Your voice trembled with a mixture of confusion and apprehension, the unexpected familiarity sending shivers down your spine.
"I'm sorry to inform you, but there's been a fire at Y/BF's house," the voice continued, its words carrying a weight that seemed to crush the very air around you. "They... they didn't make it out in time. I'm so sorry."
The world seemed to come to a screeching halt as the full impact of those words registered in your mind. Your heart plummeted to the pit of your stomach, a heavy weight settling over you like a suffocating blanket.
Shock immobilizes you, rendering you momentarily speechless as your mind struggles to process the incomprehensible news. Disbelief clouds your thoughts, and for a fleeting moment, you entertain the hope that this must be some cruel prank or a terrible misunderstanding. But the solemnity in the caller's voice leaves no room for doubt, and the reality of the situation crashes over you with relentless force.
"What?" The word escapes your lips in a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. It feels as though the ground beneath you has shifted
"Your friend has passed away," the voice repeats, its tone filled with sympathy.
Your breaths come in shallow gasps as you struggle to comprehend the magnitude of the loss, each inhalation feeling like a struggle against an invisible weight pressing down upon your chest. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment, but you fight to hold them back, afraid of what might happen if you allow yourself to surrender to the overwhelming tide of grief. Your hands tremble as you clutch the phone tightly, the cold metal offering little solace in the face of such devastating news.
Chan's irritation dissipates instantly as he sees the color drain from your face. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with worry.
You struggle to find the words, your mind reeling from the devastating news. "It's... it's ," you manage to choke out, tears streaming down your cheeks. "She didn't make it... there was a fire..."
As you relay the news, Chan's expression shifts from concern to horror as your words sink in. His features contort with disbelief, mirroring the shock and anguish etched across your own face. For a moment, neither of you can find the words to articulate the overwhelming grief that threatens to consume you both.
All around you, the morning light seems to dim, casting a pall of darkness over the room as you come to terms with the harsh reality of mortality. The laughter and playful banter of moments ago fade into the background, replaced by the deafening silence of grief.
"I never got to say goodbye," you confess. Chan's arms wrap around you in a comforting embrace, holding you close, as if trying to shield you from the pain that threatens to overwhelm. You bury your face in his chest, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace. His heartbeat echoes in your ears.
The phone slips from your grasp, forgotten amidst the turmoil of grief that consumes you. Time loses all meaning as you surrender to the overwhelming tide of emotions, the world around you fading into insignificance as you grapple with the enormity of the void left behind by your friend's passing.
In an attempt to find some semblance of solace amidst the chaos, you seek refuge in the familiar routine of self-care, the warm embrace of the shower offering a brief respite from the relentless ache of loss. But even as the water cascades over you, washing away the physical traces of sorrow, the weight of grief remains heavy upon your shoulders, a constant reminder of the gaping hole in your heart.
When you emerge, you are greeted by the sight of Minho, Seungmin, Felix, and Han. chatting quietly with chan as they enjoy the lunch he had prepared.
Your heart sinks at the sight of them, a mix of surprise and apprehension washing over you. You had completely forgotten that they were supposed to come over today, and the thought of facing them in your current state fills you with dread.
Before you can retreat back into the safety of your room, Felix spots you, his gaze locking onto yours with a mix of concern and understanding. There's no escaping now. You feel a lump form in your throat as you reluctantly step into the room, their eyes following your every move.
Chan's expression softens as he catches sight of you, concern etched into his features. "Hey, there you are," he says gently, his voice a welcome anchor in the storm of emotions raging within you.
You offer a weak smile in response, attempting to mask the turmoil churning beneath the surface. The weight of their collective gaze feels suffocating, and you find it difficult to meet their eyes.
Minho offers a sympathetic smile as you approach, his eyes reflecting the shared sorrow. "I'm so sorry for your loss," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine compassion.
Your throat tightens with emotion at his words, grateful for his heartfelt condolences. "Thank you," you manage to croak, each syllable heavy with the weight of your grief. You step closer to them, the fragrant scent of the flowers filling the air around you, a poignant reminder of the support surrounding you in this difficult time. "This means a lot."
Seungmin nods in agreement, his solemn expression a reflection of the gravity of the moment. "We're here for you," he assures you earnestly, his voice filled with sincerity and support.
You offer Seungmin a grateful nod, feeling a lump form in your throat at the sincerity in his voice. "Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion.
With a final round of supportive embraces and reassuring words, Minho, Seungmin, Felix, and Han bid their farewells, their departure leaving a palpable emptiness in the room. As the door closes behind them, the silence settles in around you, heavy with the weight of your grief.
Your eyes catch sight of a single black rose with a white ribbon tied around it, placed delicately on the counter, near the gift basket. The ribbon, elegantly tied around the stem in a neat bow, adds an air of mourning to the scene, evoking memories of funeral bouquets and memorial services. It's presence feels out of place in the bright warmth of your home, casting a shadow of unease over the otherwise cheerful atmosphere.
Beside the rose, the torn page from a diary lies in disarray, its edges jagged and uneven, hinting at a hurried and frantic tearing. The once pristine paper now bears the marks of rough handling, its surface marred by the frantic scrawl of words. As you approach, the faint scent of ink lingers in the air, mingling with the delicate fragrance of the rose.
"What... what is this?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach out to examine the mysterious objects. Your fingers tremble slightly as you pick up the torn page, the words written upon it sending a chill down your spine.
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 You quietly read the note out aloud, the words sinking in with a weight that threatens to crush your spirit.
It's the same signature as the letter you received the night before, the one that filled you with a sense of foreboding.
This wasn't just a casual letter. It was intentional. Someone out there is targeting you, and you can't help but feel a creeping sense of unease at the thought of what might happen next.
Your mind races with questions, each one more terrifying than the last. Was "Her" referring to your friend? Did someone harm her? The possibility sends a wave of panic coursing through you, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggle to make sense of the cryptic message.
The realization sinks in:
How did it get in the house?
You frantically look around for Adam, your bodyguard, realizing he should have been by your side. Panic sets in as you rush to the door, throwing it open to find him outside. Confusion and fear intertwine as you demand an explanation.
"Adam, what are you doing out here?" you ask, your voice trembling with urgency. "You were supposed to be inside with me. Why are you here?"
Adam's expression is grave as he meets your gaze, a shadow of concern flickering across his features. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he says, his tone tinged with regret. "I sensed something off and decided to check the perimeter. Is everything okay?"
You furrow your brow, a mixture of frustration and concern evident in your voice as you question the bodyguard about the intrusion. "How did this get inside?" you say waving the note and flower in your hand.
Adam's gaze follows the items, his expression darkening as he takes them from you, examining them closely. He hesitates for a moment, looking puzzled before responding, "I'm not sure," he admits, his voice tight with worry. "I didn't see anything, ma'am."
Your irritation grows. "Isn't it your job to do just that?" you say sharply, the edge in your voice reflecting your annoyance at the situation.
The bodyguard, visibly flustered, stammers out . "I apologize, ma'am," He said bowing. "I'll check with the other guards on duty as well as Stacy, who was here this morning"
"Who's Stacy?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar name.
As if on cue, Aera enters through the front entrance, her presence graceful as she bows respectfully. "That would be me, ma'am," she says, introducing herself with a polite smile. "It's my English name. Most people call me Stacy. Though I must admit, I prefer Aera."
You nod in acknowledgment, still processing the unexpected revelation.
You address the bodyguard with a firm tone, your frustration evident as you emphasize the importance of maintaining security protocols. "Under no circumstances are you to allow anything or anyone into my home without my explicit permission. Is that clear?"
He nods in understanding, chastened by your stern reprimand. "Yes, ma'am," he responds, his voices tinged with contrition.
You turn your gaze towards Aera, a firm expression etched upon your features. "And why, may I ask, are you here?" you inquire, your tone tinged with a hint of sternness.
Aera's eyes widen slightly, and she bows apologetically. "I... I'm sorry for the intrusion," she stammers, her voice soft with regret. "I wanted to offer my condolences, but I realize now that I've interrupted."
Aera retrieves a bouquet of flowers from behind her back, her movements hesitant as she extends it towards you with a slight bow,her eyes downcast with humility.
You nod, acknowledging her apology, taking the bouquet, delicately tied together with a pristine white ribbon, from her hands. "Thank you, Aera," you say, your voice softening slightly. "But next time, please check with me before coming over."
Aera bows again, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Of course, I'm sorry," she says, her tone contrite. "I'll make sure to do that in the future."
As she turns to leave, Chan steps forward, concern etching his features as he approaches you, his touch gentle as he places a comforting hand on your back. Aera's gaze lingers on him for a moment, a flicker of curiosity dancing in her eyes before she quickly averts her gaze and bows once more.
"Thank you. You may go home now," you say, dismissing her with a nod. Aera bows again, her expression a mix of regret and understanding, before quietly leaving.
Turning to Adam, you gesture for him to follow suit. "You too," you say, your voice firm but not unkind. Adam bows respectfully before leaving, leaving you alone with Chan and the weight of the day's events settling upon your shoulders.
Chan notices the tension in your posture, his concern evident as he approaches you with a gentle touch.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.
You offer him a reassuring smile, though it feels strained. "Yeah, I'm fine," you reply, though the words ring hollow even to your own ears.
Chan's gaze softens as he takes in your troubled expression. "You don't have to pretend, you know," he says softly, his hand reaching out to gently brush away a stray lock of hair from your face. "I'm here for you, whatever you need."
Chan notices your hesitation and gently prompts, "You've been on edge all day. Do you want to talk? I want to help."
As you lean into Chan's comforting embrace, the tension in your shoulders begins to ease, but the sense of unease still lingers at the edge of your consciousness. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to voice your concerns.
"I... I feel like someone's watching me," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
Chan's brow furrows with concern. "Watching you? Why didn't you tell me before?" he asks gently, his concern evident in his tone.
You hesitate, searching for an explanation. "I'm not actually sure," you admit, feeling a pang of guilt for keeping it from him.
"Well, do you think it's your mind playing tricks on you?" Chan suggests, trying to offer a rational explanation. "Now that you've won Artist of the Year, you probably just feel like more attention is on you."
"Yeah, you're right," you concede, the weight of his words resonating with you. Perhaps it was just your imagination running wild in the aftermath of your recent success.
"Besides," he adds, "you have a bodyguard. He's good at his job. You're safe with him around."
You nod, appreciating his attempt to ease your worries. "Yeah, you're right," you agree, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his words. 
"And you also have me," he adds
Chan's concern is evident in the softness of his gaze as he gently suggests, "How about a massage?"
His caring tone and thoughtful suggestion warm your heart, and you can't help but smile at his consideration. "That sounds wonderful," you reply. "But I think I just want to rest," you admit, exhaustion tugging at your limbs as the events of the day catch up with you.
Chan's lips curve into a reassuring smile as he squeezes your hand gently. "Okay." He says.
With a heavy heart, you decide against sharing the note with Chan. You don't want to burden anyone of your fears, and the thought of putting him in harm's way fills you with dread.
What if whoever sent this comes after him next?
For now, you keep the note to yourself, tucked away where no one else can find it. It's a burden you'll bear alone, at least until you can figure out who's behind this and why they're doing it.
But no matter how hard you try, the sense of foreboding lingers, a constant reminder that danger may be closer than you think.
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Ep.3 - Knock, Knock
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ferdieinceladoncity · 10 hours
Text
I keep replaying and replaying the ending scene of Amor Fati.
The way he cradles her face: the way he always cradles her face in their most intimate scenes, and how often he gently brushes the sides of her face with his thumbs. I mean, I get that there's not much else to do with your hands leaning down into the face of your 5'2 partner but ever since season one and him gently cupping her cheek in Beyond The Sea, it's obviously his go-to to provide comfort to her.
The way he says "there was one thing that remained the same- you were my friend." the way he says friend in such a tender way: they are friends. It's beautiful. I mean, it's no secret that I ship them, and would love nothing more than for them to make out sloppy-style all over his basement desk, but so much more importantly than that, that's his friend- his "constant" his "touchstone." Their lives are intrinsically connected. In ways I do not think he can define nor do I believe need concrete defining she is more important to him than words. Can we get three cheers for catastrophic mind-bending levels of codependency? and the way she says "and you are mine" in return, it feels like a little confession, almost, coming off the back of all the vague revealing of her feelings in season 6, the way she says it and he looks at her and nods.
The forehead kiss, UGH. Every single time these freaks kiss each other on the forehead, which is often, and I'm glad for it, I just melt into soup. He bends down into it too, let's himself be comforted by her, leans into her kiss. Allows fully for himself to be in this moment of vulnerability. He has just received news of a devastating loss- because as much as I dislike Diana Fowley's character, as double-crossing as she was and as much as I believe Mulder would have chosen Scully over her always in the end, despite what his ""dream life"" may have suggested (and the whole point of the dream life was that he wasn't living a whole, real life, as the aliens were destroying the world around him) but the news of her death would hurt, of course it would, because of course he DID care for Diana. Scully realises his hurt. She could never take away his pain completely, they could never do that for each other due to the scope of their individual trauma, but it is enough to kiss him on the forehead and put his cap back on his bandaged head, because she is there for him, and she loves him.
oh, yeah, and the way her fingers linger on his lips when she *eventually* pulls away from him. ha. hahaha.
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fairy-verse · 2 days
Note
Is it possible to ask for some nightmare x killer?
There were days Killer thought himself dreaming, lost in the lovely world where no harm nor pain could reach him; and at times it felt as such, for as he watched his queen dance under the light of the moon with specks of glittering dew falling slowly through the air, he couldn’t possibly be awake; or alive. Not alone but feeling like only he and Nightmare existed at that moment, Killer wondered how he truly had managed to enchant the queen of autumn.
Nightmare was beautiful beyond words, different from any fairy he’d ever seen or heard about, and when he spoke his voice was that of the night sky, deep, endless, and soothing. He couldn’t have hidden his affection even if he wanted to for his soul pulsed and quivered whenever Nightmare was near, and every time that single eye light looked down upon the flowery image of his very being, Killer felt himself swim in a sea of velvet stars and near translucent clouds, all coloured in the shades of Nightmare’s wings.
He couldn’t, nor would he ever, wish to hide the love that had grown so bright and fierce for his queen, and when Nightmare smiled at him, with unimaginable softness on his face, Killer needed to steady himself less he fell to his knees in worship. But then again, it wouldn’t have been so bad if it came to that. After all, Nightmare deserved to be worshipped.
Tenderly, and as carefully as one could be, Killer allowed his fingers to slowly trail over Nightmare’s bones and ecto. His queen was asleep, wings laid to rest behind him as he lay near Killer—nay, rather, he cuddled up against him, comfortable in sleep.
To have earned Nightmare’s trust, to have become worthy enough to sleep by his side and see him at his most vulnerable; there was no greater honour. Killer knew of his position and how he’d done what no one else could achieve, and even as pride swelled within him, he never found it in himself to preach of his success. Nightmare hadn’t been a price for him to win… No, Nightmare was so much more. He’d become someone Killer cherished beyond life itself, someone he’d gladly fly into the maw of death for, someone he loved so dearly it nearly hurt to breathe.
Nightmare was the ethereal and otherworldly dark dreams of the night, the ones that didn’t necessarily frighten you, but unnerved you by their sheer beauty and overwhelming presence. He was the cold but ever-so-soft embrace of the night.
“Nightmare,” Killer whispered, low enough to not wake the fairy in his arms, but loud enough for the world to hear. “I will follow you to the end, even when my body returns to stardust, and you may no longer see nor touch me. I will stay with you, I promise.”
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One Year
A/N: Hey guys!!! Sorry its been ages and ages and ages since my last fic. Genuinely so sorry. Idk how I feel about this one and the next one I'm posting, so let me know what you think. I live off of comments, reblogs and likes btw!!! Also this is NOT BETAD. SORRY!!
Simon stands next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets. For a long while, neither of you says anything. After a few minutes, days, months, years, he breaks the silence with a mumbled "Remember when we got our first house?"
When you dont respond, he continues.
"You were so happy. I was so happy. We were young and in love and everything was good." He says 'we were in love' as if he ever fell out of love with you.
A deeply sad and bitter chuckle sounds from him.
"It was just a shitty flat. Not even safe to live in, probably. But it was ours." It was really yours, if he was being honest. Everything in his life was yours. But once he'd puttered about the place, tightening screws and greasing hinges, it felt like it could be a little bit his. Just a little.
He pauses, swallows, squeezes his eyes shut.
"I fucked you in every room of that house." His voice is hoarse, pained.
"We called it fucking because we wanted to be, I dunno, mature. Cool. But it was making love. Everything we did together was making love." His voice gets quieter and quieter before finally cracking.
"You got pregnant. It was the singular best moment of my life when you told me." He makes a choked sound, "A kid would have been lucky to have you as a mom. We would have been lucky to have a id. But luck was never on our side for long, was it?"
He shakes his head sharply, moves on.
"Remember when we bought our house? When we got married? When we went to the ocean for our honeymoon? I do. I remember every blissfully happy moment." He chuckles again, but this time its actually a slightly happy sound.
"Every time I looked at you I was struck dumb by how beautiful you were. How lucky I was to have you."
He snorts. "I say 'was' as if you ever got less beautiful."
"You always used to asked me if I was okay, if I was having flashbacks. But most of the time I was just stunned by how perfect you were."
He takes a deep breath, opens his eyes.
"Remember all our anniversaries? The flowers and the smiles and the photo albums and the extra kisses?"
He waits for a second, as if he expects you to say something. When you dont, he continues.
"I loved our anniversaries, but really they were just like any other day. We always loved each other. We would always go do things together."
His voice drops again like he's admitting something shameful.
"I dont know what to do with my days anymore."
He confesses. "I'm re-enlisting, I think. If they'll take me. Maybe as a training officer. Although I always did hate the rookies..."
He pauses, almost smiles.
"I remember whenever I came home complaining about them, you'd just give me a kiss on the forehead and say they 'just wanted to be me'." "I always told you that that was stupid, because why would anyone want to be me? I'm nothing."
"And you would always say 'you're mine' and then I had to agree: all the rookies probably did want t be me. Anyone would." The silence creeps back in, thick and suffocating. "I have too many things at home now."
He whispers. "Too many florals. I dont know what to do with 'em."
His voice is barely audible. "I miss you. I love you." He gently caresses your headstone and lets a few tears fall. Its been a year since you died, but he still visits you daily. After all, the both of you had promised to talk every day, even if you were mad at each other. Who was he to break that?
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rxttenbxnes · 3 days
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Hello! Do you have any fun headcanons to share about Idia? Honestly, I just find it painful to see how badly this guy gets butchered in headcanons sometimes. People always forget that he is in fact a complete ass with a massive superiority-inferiority complex and not just a sad boi, or they overplay the weeb part and ignore how he has other interests like science and art, or they make him too pathetic by assuming he would still be a blushing incoherent mess like a year into marriage, etc. Anyway, it’d just be nice to hear the headcanons of an actual Idia fan since that’s the only way to get anything sane.
Omg totally, first I'mma do a little rant, I'll make sure to label where the HCS begin so y'all don't have to read my rants 😭
܀⊹ ིྀ🕸 ۫ ִ ׂ💭 ◟♡ ˒ ⊹ ݁ ִ  ۫🎮ೄྀ⊹܀
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❱❱﹒⟡﹒𝑅𝑎𝑛𝑡﹢﹒🎮
Okay we gotta acknowledge the fact idia is indeed, an asshole you guys. 💀Well not completely obviously but he's not just gonna be nice to you for no reason. He's not just some depressed dude needing sympathy.
The way Idia is so Infantilzed by the fandom it's actually gets me tweakin, You guys this actually makes me mad, he's not some sensitive bottom uwu boy that stutters 50 times every sentence In fact I honestly cannot see him being submissive half of the time, this man is actually a asshole on the low. Most people get the fact that idia would be submissive from his shy and closed off personality which is just SO wrong to me.
Idia is extremely pessimistic and if we're being real Idia is actually not a good narrator for his own experiences, the constant self deprecation mixed in with his his thoughts about being superior to others is so fascinating to me, one moment he sees himself as nothing but a piece of trash while in the next moment he's boasting about how he's the only one component enough to be ignihyde's dorm leader. He's such a complex character I can Yap about him constantly
I get making jokes and stuff but some people genuinely think idia is some stinky incel creep that hates women and just purposely chooses to not go outside and be chronically online. Like yeah, he has nerdy and loser like hobbies but this man literally has trauma and chronic depression, along with an anxiety disorder, it's not something he can just make disappear. He likes science, engineering, art, anime, games etc which is all just cool, it's not like he's some creep that's afraid to talk to people, nor is he some super submissive guy that'll fold for you in a tiny interaction.
Had to get ts off my chest 💀
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܀⊹ ིྀ🕸 ۫ ִ ׂ💭 ◟♡ ˒ ⊹ ݁ ִ  ۫🎮ೄྀ⊹܀
܀⊹ ིྀ𝐼𝑑𝑖𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 🎮ೄྀ⊹܀
🎧 Caramelldansen. Idia adores this song unironically. At first he had just saw the meme and quickly ended up falling into the whole thing, laying on the floor completely dazed out of his mind as the colorful lights flash in the background from the music video playing on repeat lol
🎮 I said this in my earlier post but Idia definitely draws his crushes all the time. Luckily he has a little self control and draws anime/manga characters in most of the pages, he's really protective over his sketch book due to 1.) His social anxiety and 2.) The fact that he doesn't want anyone to know that he likes drawing and observing people, especially his crushes.
🎧 Idia constantly has his headphones on, I know of a fact that Idia listens to Nightcore, anime OSTs, Vocaloid, animation meme music, Vkei, video game sound tracks and breakcore religiously. I think idia would honestly listen to everything he can get his hands on
🎮 I feel like he had a 2020 alt kid phase lol. I feel like quarantine would've been his time to thrive, his peak enjoyment of life would be set during this time lol. Being able to express himself like he wanted without others seeing??? Sign him up
🎧 Ironically, he's not super weak. I feel like he just sucks at physical activity, especially running since he doesn't leave his room much. His hands/fist are definitely strong, I feel like he has a strong hit.
🎮 That being said, I think Idia’s hands are large, thin and boney. They definitely have a few scars and calluses from all the machinery he works with, you can't tell me that his hands aren't pretty rough.
🎧 Idia is a fashion icon, in games. Not irl, he would never due to the attention it would grab him, though he definitely is into all of the alternative and Gothic fashion stuff. He'll give his characters the most perfect and pretty outfits and make sure everything is customized perfectly, not mind at all if it takes him hours to do so.
🎮 This man definitely collects figures. I feel like they're all anime and video game figures; he's even commission artist and such to make custom work of his favorite interest and brag online about it.
🎧 Has an habit of repeating words and phrases he likes over and over again. It doesn't matter if it's from an obscure meme that literally only 5 people including him know or if it's in a different language, he'll constantly reference and repeat it like no tomorrow.
🎮 He's a biter. He bites a lot of things randomly, he'd bite someone out of love if he got the chance. I'm telling you he'll just naw on random stuff, not caring if it's edible or not. It could literally be a plushy and he'll randomly bite it while he's hugging it.
🎧 Idia definitely finds confort in the rain and gloom weather. Really, he just enjoys typically gloomy things. It's extremely comforting and relaxing to him to just be able to sit on his bed with his headphones on while it rains harshly outside, making the world around him dark and gloomy.
🎮 Curses, like a lot. Gamer rage is real you guys and he definitely has it. If he loses a game too many times or gets too frustrated with his teammates, he'll curse like a sailor. His anger isn't directly to his teammates or anything, it's of him being frustrated with everything in general.
܀⊹ ིྀ🕸 ۫ ִ ׂ💭 ◟♡ ˒ ⊹ ݁ ִ  ۫🎮ೄྀ⊹܀
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greenteaandtattoos · 14 hours
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gotta say that chetney had some MAJOR fucking balls to look laudna in the face and have the audacity to say "no one knows loss like orym". to laudna of all people.
i do not like to compare trauma; everyone's trauma and pain are valid and their coping mechanisms, no matter how unhealthy, are centered around that trauma.
but. i'd argue that no one knows loss like laudna.
laudna lost her family. was tortured, strung up, used to send a message to some strangers who happened to piss off the tyrannical leaders of their town, chosen to do so because she had a vaguely similar appearance to one of them.
she died alone, in pain, humiliated, and afraid. and then she was resurrected by the very person who orchestrated her suffering. the person who killed and tortured her is now permanently inside her head.
almost everyone she knows and loves is dead. she woke up to a completely foreign whitestone. to a thriving whitestone. to a whitestone that not only did not know who she was but was terrified of her, because of her appearance, that which got her killed in the first place.
they shunned her, tormented her, and ran her out of the city. the city that she lived in her whole life and died in horrifically. and the leaders of whitestone did nothing. the leaders who happened to be why she suffered in the first place. they may not have known about her, but they let their townspeople do that.
and now, the woman who ruined and horrifically ended her life continues to do so in death, once again risen to be used by her, and laudna is forced to rely on her. and that reliance continually threatens to isolate her from the people she cares about. again.
so chetney can fuck right off with his bullshit. they've all suffered, and it is none of their rights to claim that one person's suffering is more important than another's, definitely no one's right to claim that their trauma gives them the right to special treatment, absolutely no one has the right to shame laudna for her coping mechanisms, and most certainly chetney does not have the right to claim that she hasn't suffered enough in comparison to orym to be justified.
i love chetney with all my heart but holy fuck that was NOT his finest moment. i'd argue that it's his lowest and ugliest.
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matan4il · 7 hours
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911 ep 708 first watch reactions
Oh, poor Bobby.
Seeing him at that AA meeting, his past failures that made him wanna take his own life rubbed back in his face with the intention to hurt, was painful. Especially because you realize Amir would not be saying anything, unless he realized at that meeting that Bobby is the kind of good guy that can be hurt by hearing about the consequences to other people of his own actions. If Amir had gotten the idea that Bobby is the kind of cold-hearted bastard who did not care and could "just walk away," then his whole little speech would have been pointless, and another path for revenge would have been needed instead.
But to see little Bobby, so happy and proud when it came to his dad the firefighter captain, realizing he must have wanted to be just like his hero all these years, really brings into focus how much he must have felt like an even greater failure in his own mind, no matter how many good things he did, how many people he saved, how often he was willing to sacrifice his life to save others', and how hard he's worked to fix the faults that caused this tragedy in the first place. And not just since the fire that killed 148 people, but from the very moment that his drunk dad started gaslighting him, as if the senior (supposedly heroic) Captain Nash's sins were the fault of his son.
"I never counted the survivors."
Why does this show keep hurting me by striking in the places closest to home. :( My grandparents were all Holocaust survivors, and yeah, I know firsthand that survivors are victims, as well as sometimes their family members, too. I'm a third generation, and I know exactly where the Holocaust has scarred my grandparents, my parents and me. I know what the Nazis and their collaborators did, does not stop in May of 1945, and is not close to over in May of 2024. Grief, pain and loss can be like that stone thrown into the water, where the circles that come out of it may extend far beyond the initial point of impact.
What Athena said to Bobby about how it needed to matter to him that he's a different person now than he was back then is so incredibly important. It was a good ep, but at the end of the day, most of us don't get to heal by saving people's lives. We find what we can fix and we do, we choose to be kind with others, we eventually learn that the measure of compassion and mercy we show to ourselves also matters, and we try to find the right balance between all of these things. That last part is probably the hardest. But that's the real work of life, and that one I think is true for all of us, no matter what our circumstances might be.
Thank you for reading! If you’re looking for more, you can find my s7 reactions tag here, and more of my Buddie meta and content in my pinned post. xoxox
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otterneuvillette · 9 hours
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✧ WE'RE HERE FOR YOU ! ✧
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⋆🌼🃏— Pairings: tighnari x gn! reader x cyno (can be read as platonic or romantic, pick your poison :0)
⋆🌼🃏— Sypnosis: You have been targeted by a group of Eremites for unknown reasons, so for your safety and the sake of their worries, you have been staying with Gandharva Ville. Here's how your life has become since then.
⋆🌼🃏— content: gn! reader, mentions of injury and just fluffy with light angst.
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It happened all so suddenly.
You were a Rtawahist researcher, one of the best of your years. You went on an expedition to the desert with a team of adventurers to research the sudden change of movement of the stars.
Along the way, you and your team had a couple of gnarly encounters with the same group of Eremites, which was weird, why are they so intent to capture your group? As far as you know, none of you had offended them or made them feel threatened.
Until they finally captured you while the others were sleeping.
"Come on, give us your research papers and your Mora, and we won't hurt your pretty little head, yeah?" One of them spoke with a gruff voice.
Your eyebrows furrowed.
"Archons! Why do you need my research paper so badly?! Like I understand if you wanted just my Mora, but my research papers??" You exclaimed.
"We don't have to give you our reasons, brat."
They stood up and stabbed the dagger they were holding into a crate next to you.
Thump.
"Just give us the damn papers before things get ugly, you hear me?!"
You shook your head stubbornly.
"No! I worked hard on those, I will not let you have it!" You yelled.
They let out a sound of annoyance.
"Fine, I'll just do this the hard way then." They lifted the dagger up again, it's chilling glint underneath the desert moon made you shiver.
But you'd rather die than let them have it.
You closed your eyes, preparing for a moment of pain that never came.
A groan of pain echoed in your ears, and the sound of cold metal clashing made you open your eyes.
Sliver hair filled your vision along with flashes of purple lightning. You were dazed by its familiarity as a thought crossed your mind.
Cyno.
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That was a week ago.
Cyno told you that your expedition had lasted an extra week than you wrote in your letters. He went looking for you out of concern, and he had found your team and they told him that you disappeared overnight and that the group of Eremites that were terrorizing you and them.
You thanked him with dinner and a couple of rounds of TCG, which you lost, miserably.
And you managed to hand over your research papers to your professor before the deadline.
A win-win situation one might think, right?
Wrong.
Because when you get home from running some errands—
—most of your house was burned down.
All your equipment, your research books are half burned into a crisp.
You felt yourself holding back a scream.
No, this is not the time for an emotional breakdown. You ran inside what's left of your home, as you took whatever you could save in it.
Photo albums, important documents, your boxes of trinkets, anything.
You groaned softly as you cursed yourself for getting a place further out in the city in the first place.
By the sevens, who could be this cruel to do this?!
After a couple of hours, you salvaged quite some stuff. But you were glad that the box was unscathed from the fire, it held all of your precious trinkets that you kept growing up. Everything that they had given you.
You dragged your stuff into a cart that you kept in your yard and headed towards the city. Along the way, you passed by a certain blonde haired traveller who helped you with your other stuff that you hadn't managed to fit into the cart.
When you arrived, you managed to get yourself a place to stay for a while. And without wasting any time, you reported what happened to the Matra. They told you that they will open an investigation as soon as possible. You thanked them as you went back to the place you were staying.
Moments later, you heard a knock on the door, and you opened to find a worried Tighnari and also a serious-looking Cyno.
"Hey, we heard what happened, are you okay?" Tighnari asked you, his ears twitching slightly.
You nodded quietly, too tired to give him a proper response.
"I have some leads to who's the culprit that burnt down your house." Cyno said sternly.
You looked up, curious to hear his answer.
"The group of Eremites that terrorized your team a week ago might have been the ones that did it." He said.
You sighed defeatedly.
"Honestly, I was dreading that. Archons, I have no idea why they are coming for me and my work." You sighed, slumping on the bed.
Tighnari approached you and placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.
"You should lay low for now. I suggest you find a safer place to stay, they may still be on the lookout for you." Cyno said softly, feeling quite sympathetic for you.
"You could stay with me? I'm sure Collei would be happy to see you again..?" Tighnari offered. His tail swished gently,as he looked at you with concern.
"I agree with Tighnari, you'll be safer staying with him." Cyno nodded.
"Meanwhile, I'll lead the investigation, I'll make sure the culprit will get the judgment they deserve." He added.
"Fine, I'll stay with 'nari. But only, until I repair my house." You said, sighing.
Both of them nodded in agreement, as you stood up to follow them to Gandharva Ville.
"Let me help you with your cart," Tighnari said, already holding on to it.
You thanked him, while Cyno informed the nearby Matra to gather information about the incident.
You hoped that this matter would be over soon.
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It's been a few weeks since then, whoever did the crime was insanely good at keeping their tracks clean, it even had the General Mahamatra stumped.
Yet, both Tighnari and Cyno did their best to help you take your mind off it, they didn't want to see you stress yourself sick.
You'd just been in your room, minding your own business, when you started to hear voices coming from the living room of Tighnari's house. You decided to go out to the living room to check out what was going on.
"Well, you see, it's funny because-" Cyno seemed to be explaining some dumb joke.
"Oh, archons! Stop with the terrible jokes already!" Tighnari groaned, but his ears perked up when he saw you enter the room. "Make him stop, please!"
"Cyno....please behave?" You whispered quietly, clearly exhausted from the house repairs the day before.
Cyno's playfully pouted, but he sighed and gave in to your gentle request.
"I suppose I can behave myself. For now, at least."
Tighnari nods slightly, a small frown appearing on his face. "Yes. It's been a long day. The headache seems to be getting worse every day. Archons, I wish they'd go away." He sighs quietly, his ear flicking down in displeasure as you move closer to him.
He smiles at you affectionately and then turns his gaze to Tighnari, whose eyebrows were furrowed.
"What's with that face, 'nari? Are you having a headache again?" You said worriedly, hastily approaching where he was sitting.
"Hmm....maybe you should take a break... I'll talk with the other rangers, Let me help you with the patrols for the week." You immediately offered, without even a stutter or hesitation.
Tighnari blinks his eyes in surprise at your eagerness to help. He shakes his head slightly, a small smile appearing on his face. A soft, affectionate gaze wanders over your face.
"No, no. I'll be alright. You know I'm tougher than I look," he tries to protest, but you can tell from his expression how much your offer means to him.
Cyno steps forward and places a hand on Tighnari's shoulder. "Come on, Tighnari. Take a break for once."
"See? Even the General Mahamatra agrees with me. So, just sit tight and rest. Let me handle the rest."
Tighnari sighs and looks up at you then at Cyno, then sighs again, giving in. A slight smile forms on his face as he looks back at you, clearly relieved.
"Alright, alright. I suppose I can take a few days off. But you better not overwork yourself," he relents, his tail flicking slightly.
Cyno smiles and nods affirmatively. "That's better. You look like you haven't slept in days," he comments as his hands gently brush back Tighnari's hair to examine his face.
"I promise I won't overwork myself. I can handle the patrols for a few days. Don't worry, 'nari. I'll be fine," You reassure him, offering a comforting smile.
Tighnari lets out a quiet sigh and closes his eyes, clearly exhausted, his ears slumping down a little.
"Alright, alright. I trust you. Just..." He reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it gently. "Take care of yourself, okay?" Cyno watches the scene with a fond smile and adds. "Yeah, don't do anything reckless. We both know how you get when you don't take proper breaks."
"It's not really that bad, guys! I promise." You whined playfully, before patting Tighnari's shoulder.
"Let me go make you some herbal tea. I've acquired some new medicinal tea from Liyue from my pen pal." You said excitedly.
Tighnari smiles faintly as you pat his shoulder, his ears twitching slightly in appreciation.
"Thank you. That would be very helpful," he says quietly, clearly grateful for your offer.
Cyno, meanwhile, gives you a slightly teasing smile. "Yeah, sure. And maybe don't forget to take care of yourself, okay? We don't want you getting sick, too. You're not immune to everything either," he adds, his tone playful and affectionate.
"Says you, Mr. "Oh no, I have fallen ill because I refuse to wear proper clothing during cold desert nights!" Seriously, Cyno. You should let me knit you a blanket or something." You huffed as you started brewing the tea, filling the small space with a light jasmine scent.
Cyno groans quietly, a little embarrassed that you've brought up the incident again. His arms crossed defensively, but he can't help but chuckle.
"I'm fine with my clothes, thank you very much," he responds, a hint of defensiveness in his voice. "Besides, I like the feel of the desert air against my skin. Even the cold is refreshing." Tighnari, meanwhile, chuckles softly at the exchange, his ears perking up in amusement.
He raises an eyebrow at Cyno, his tone lighthearted.
"You're always insisting that your immune to everything, but look at you. You're just as susceptible as the rest of us," he points out, a fond smile on his face.
Cyno sighs and chuckles, unable to argue with that.
"Fine, fine. I see your point. But... I still enjoy the cold air."
You chuckled, shaking your head.
"Sit down, Cyno. I'm bringing the tea over." You called out.
Cyno sighs and obeys, flopping down on the couch next to Tighnari. His lips curled as he heard your lighthearted chuckle.
"I guess you're right," he admits, leaning back on the couch and stretching his arms. "But I'll still take my chances with the desert air. As long as you brew me some tea to help me when I get sick." Tighnari glances over at you, amusement is evident in his expression.
"The things I'd do for the both of you."
Cyno chuckles, a fond smile spreading across his face.
"And we appreciate it. We really do," he reassures you.
Tighnari nods in agreement, his expression softening. "You always take such good care of us, even when we're too stubborn to admit it," he adds, his tail flicking gently against the couch.
Cyno glances at Tighnari, then back at you, a grin spreading on his face.
"Yeah, you're practically a miracle worker. Always knowing when we need a helping hand, even when we're too proud to ask for it."
Tighnari laughs quietly and nods in agreement. "We're lucky to have you around. Who else would put up with our nonsense?"
"You're being too sweet, just drink the tea already!" You said softly, flushing slightly.
They both chuckled at your reaction.
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"This is delicious. You've outdone yourself this time," Cyno compliments you.
Tighnari nods in agreement, his expression softening as he takes a sip. "Yes, it's so soothing. You're quite a talented herbal tea brewer."
"Thanks, I'm just gonna leave you two to it. I have an appointment with Kaveh soon, so I need to prepare some supplies."
Cyno raises an eyebrow, a teasing smirk spreading across his face.
"Kaveh, huh? What are you two getting up to?"
He takes another sip of tea, his tone lighthearted and playful.
"It's not what you think. I'm just going over my house plans with him. I'm repairing my house because a part of it got burned down, remember? The arson case a few weeks ago? The reason why I've been staying with Tighnari since then?"
Cyno's teasing expression quickly turns to one of concern.
"Right, of course. My apologies for teasing. I remember that case. How's the repairs going?" he asks you.
Tighnari nods in agreement and his ears perk up slightly as well. "Yeah, I hope you're not having too much trouble with the rebuilding," he adds, a hint of worry evident in his voice.
"Well, between having to acquire materials and trying to not break my back fixing it, I'd say it's going smoothly."
"I just hope that my savings are enough to cover for it. The prices of materials are insane." You sighed.
"But Kaveh has been helping out with finding affordable yet quality materials, so I think the repair would go as smoothly as I hope it to be," You reassured.
Cyno nods gently, relief is evident in his expression.
"Sounds like you're in good hands. Kaveh always has a knack for finding good deals. And as for your back, maybe you should take some breaks. Can't be overworking yourself with all this rebuilding," he teases lightly, a gentle smirk on his face.
"I know, I know, thank the Seven, Alhaitham offered to help me with my work, even if I didn't want him to, I could have perfectly done it myself,"
Tighnari nods in agreement, his ears perking up.
"Well, Alhaitham is somewhat of a difficult person to get along with sometimes, but I can't deny that he's quite considerate and helpful if the situation calls for it. Maybe he just wanted to return the favor you extended to him when you helped him in his research." He pauses for a moment, his expression softening. "But you should still take care of yourself. Don't overwork yourself, okay?" He adds, giving you a gentle look.
"I will. I'm going to head out now, so I'll see you tonight, 'nari and you later, Cyno." You said softly and waved the two of them goodbye.
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As you leave Gandharva Ville to meet up with Kaveh, Cyno, and Tighnari continue to chat in the living room over tea. Cyno shares a few jokes with Tighnari, who rolls his eyes but secretly smiles at the playful banter.
As night falls, the house feels a little emptier without your presence. Despite their easy-going demeanors, Cyno and Tighnari can't help but feel a slight sense of worry and longing for your return.
When you finally return home, the apartment is quiet. Cyno and Tighnari are just lounging around the living room. When they hear you enter, they perk their ears up slightly and look over at you. A wave of relief washes over both of them, and they can't help but smile at the sight of you.
Cyno greets you cheerfully as usual, while Tighnari gives you a gentle smile and a tail flick.
"Sorry I'm late, I had to run away from some angry group of Fungi on my way here." You said, catching your breath.
Cyno raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.
"Angry Fungi? Sounds like quite the adventure. How many were there?" He asks, a serious glint in his eyes.
"A whole group of five huge Fungi. " You answered him.
Tighnari's expression softens and his ears twitch slightly. "Are you alright? Did you get hurt at all?"
You scratched your head bashfully, before looking at Tighnari.
"I might've....gotten a massive bruise on my back...."
Tighnari's expression immediately turns to one of concern upon hearing about your injury.
"Oh no... Let me see that bruise," he requests gently, taking a step closer to examine your back.
"I-I'm fine! I swear, 'nari!" You said hurriedly. taking a couple steps back.
"One of the Fungi headbutted me from the back while I was busy dodging the other ones."
Cyno raises an eyebrow at your insistence that you're fine.
"Headbutted, huh? You should be more careful. We can't afford to have you getting injured. Especially when we're not around to look after you," he remarks, his expression serious for a moment before his usual smile returns.
Tighnari's ears twitch, his concern still evident. "Regardless, let me just take a quick look to ease my worry," he insists gently.
"Fine, fine, just let me change into looser clothing first." You muttered.
Cyno nods in agreement, acknowledging your need for comfort.
"Alright, take your time. We'll be here when you're ready," he reassures you, his ear flicking a little. Tighnari gives you a reassuring smile and nods as well. "Yeah, no need to rush. Just take the time you need to change and then we can check your back. We want to make sure you're alright."
You quickly changed, and soon, Tighnari carefully guided you to the couch.
"How is it? Is it really bad?"
Tighnari examines your back, his fingers gently ghosting over the massive bruise that has formed there.
He winces slightly when he sees the extent of the injury but tries to maintain a calm demeanor. "It's a large bruise. You're going to have to take it easy for a few days to avoid aggravating it. I'll prepare some herbs to make a salve that can help speed up the healing process a little. In the meantime, try to avoid any unnecessary movement, okay?"
You sighed yet again. "I guess I have to postpone the repairs again....." You muttered under your breath.
Cyno overhears your muttered comment and his expression softens, sympathetic to your plight. He puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.
"Hey, it's alright. There's no rush. Your health comes first. We can figure out a way to handle the repairs later when you're feeling better."
Tighnari gives a nod of agreement and gently pats your back. "Yes, take it easy. Let us handle the repairs for now. You just focus on resting and getting better."
Cyno and Tighnari help you get comfortable on the couch, bringing you pillows and blankets to make sure you're as relaxed as possible.
Tighnari prepares a soothing salve to help reduce the pain and inflammation in your back, while Cyno grabs a cold pack from the freezer to press against the bruise.
They sit with you, keeping you company and making sure you're feeling alright. They chat with you softly, making lighthearted jokes and sharing stories to keep your mind off your pain.
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Eventually, Tighnari returns with the salve he prepared, and he carefully applies it to your back with gentle but firm movements.
As the salve works its magic, slowly reducing the pain and swelling, Cyno gives you a smile and speaks in a teasing tone.
"You know, maybe this is just what you needed. A little break to rest and relax. Maybe a few days off might not be so bad after all."
"But I was supposed to help you so you could take a break, 'nari!" You whined quietly, pouting.
Tighnari smiles at your pouting expression, amused by your stubbornness.
"I appreciate the thought, but sometimes life has other plans. Right now, the most important thing is for you to focus on recovering. Once you're back on your feet, you can help us all you want."
Cyno rolls his eyes playfully and adds in a joking tone. "Yeah, and speaking of being back on your feet, maybe you should try picking on smaller targets next time instead of those huge Fungi."
"It wasn't my fault they came on me in the first place, I don't even know why they were so irritated in the first place!"
Tighnari chuckles softly, trying to imagine you fending off a horde of angry Fungi.
"Fungi can be picky sometimes. And they tend to guard their territory fiercely. Perhaps you accidentally wandered into their turf without realizing it, and they took action accordingly."
"I was walking down the designated path to Gandharva Ville! The Fungi weren't there when I first passed by on my way to Sumeru City!!"
Cyno bursts out laughing upon hearing your playful defense.
"Ah, well, perhaps those particular Fungi took a sudden detour and decided to set up camp on your usual path without warning. Those mischievous creatures can be quite sneaky, you know," he teases.
"Whatever..." You groaned, voice muffled by your face planting into the pillow.
Tighnari grins at your reaction and gently pats your head.
"Don't be upset. We're just teasing. We know you did your best." He turns to look at Cyno, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Cyno, why don't you make it up to them with one of your jokes? That'll surely lift their spirits."
"Please don't, can't you see I suffered enough? You guys are bullying me, I swear."
"Oh, don't worry, we're not bullies. We just believe in the healing power of laughter!" Cyno says proudly.
He takes a moment to think, then grins wider. "Hey, what do you call a snake with no legs?"
"What is it?" You groaned.
"An adder. Get it? Because it's a snake, and it has been 'added' without legs? Haha!" He laughs at his own joke, clearly pleased with himself. Tighnari hides a small chuckle with a cough. They both look at you, eagerly awaiting your reaction.
"I hate you guys...."
Cyno laughs even harder at your response, clearly enjoying your reaction to his terrible pun.
"Oh, come onnnn. Don't be like that. You know you love my sense of humor." He says with a smirk.
Tighnari can't help but smile at your groaning. He reaches out to pat your head softly, trying to soothe you.
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As the evening progresses, Cyno and Tighnari keep up the light banter, sharing jokes and stories to keep your spirits up.
Slowly, you start to relax, the stress from your injury fading away as their company puts you at ease. The room is filled with laughter, and a comforting atmosphere settles in. Cyno tells another terrible pun, and even though you try your best to maintain a scowl, you can't help but let out a small chuckle.
Tighnari notices your slight smile and grins at Cyno, silently signaling him that their efforts are working. They exchange a sly, knowing look, grateful that you are starting to feel better.
As the night drags on, the room gradually falls silent as you doze off into a contented, healing slumber. Even after you fall asleep, Cyno and Tighnari take turns watching over you, making sure you're as comfortable as possible. They can't help but share a warm, fond smile, appreciating the peace and tranquility of the moment.
Your healing progresses in the following days, Cyno and Tighnari take turns caring for you. Tighnari diligently prepares meals and soothing herbs to help with your recovery, and Cyno occasionally comes by to offer his own unique way of making you feel better – by sharing yet another one of his terrible puns.
Despite your protests, Cyno's jokes never fail to crack a dumb smile on your face, and you find yourself secretly looking forward to his visits, just to hear those awful puns.
Eventually, your injury starts to heal as the days turn into weeks. Your pain and discomfort gradually fade away, and the bruise on your back begins to yellow before finally disappearing completely.
Tighnari examines your back once again, his fingers lightly tracing the area where the bruise used to be, before nodding in satisfaction.
"Yup, it appears that you have fully recovered. The injury has healed nicely, and there are no signs of pain or discomfort left."
Just as you're about to express your relief and thanks, Cyno chimes in with a dramatic sigh.
"Ah, it's a shame that you've recovered so quickly. I was already working on a new series of puns to keep the cheer going."
Cyno remarks, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
Tighnari rolls his eyes but can't help but smile at Cyno's antics.
"Oh yes, because your terrible puns were an absolute cure for all our ailments. We simply would be miserable without them," Tighnari retorts, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Cyno pouts, feigning offense at Tighnari's words. "Hey, they weren't that bad! And besides, I had a whole new stockpile ready to go."
"Maybe, some other time, Cyno." You giggled.
"Spoil sport," Cyno grumbles, crossing his arms in mock disappointment, but a smile creeps onto his face at your laugh.
Tighnari lets out a lighthearted chuckle, shaking his head at Cyno's antics. They both sit quietly for a moment, enjoying the light banter and the relief of your full recovery.
You felt relief knowing that no matter what, come rain or shine, both of them would go to the ends of Tevyat for you as you would do for them as well.
But for now, let's just enjoy the tranquility of the moment, shall we?
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extras:
Tighnari: hey, I noticed that you kept the pictures of our student years in the albums you have in your cart.
Y/N: of course I did, they're really precious to me.
*Cyno come closer and picks up a picture.*
Cyno:....hey, when did you take this photo of me passed out on Lambad's Tavern, and...wait...DID YOU SERIOUSLY BALANCE PLATES ON ME?!
Y/N: ......yeah, i'm just gonna leave- *sprints*
Cyno: OH NO YOU DON'T- *runs after Y/N*
Tighnari: *dies of laughter.*
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