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#every single time he gives back to the community it always seems to go back to that
xxblairexxss · 8 months
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A fresh start
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader
Theme : Angst, fluff
Word count : 4.2k
Part 2
Requested!
In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.
It gets a little heavy near the end so heads up! Not proofread!
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"There seems to be a problem with the downforce. It kind of eats the tyre quite a lot."
Charles felt a touch on his hip while he was too busy listening to the engineers. Looking down, he saw a small kid patting on his leg, while the other hand seemed to be offering him something. "Hey, are you giving this to me?" He asked, pulling the headset from his ear as he crouched down.
"Yeah! My mom always gives me candy whenever I am stressed with my homework. You can—oh." The little kid fumbled with the wrapping paper that was securely wrapped around the lollipop. "I can’t take the plastic off for you. Sorry…"
"Oh, it’s okay. Let me help you." Charles twiddled with the wrapper as it went loose before he pulled it off. "There! Oh, for me? Are you sure?"
"No stress! Bye bye!" The toddler waved and sprinted off, leaving Charles with the strawberry lollipop in his hand.
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"Any idea who she is?" Charles nudged Joris and tipped his chin towards the girl who was across the room.
"She’s part of the communication executive." Joris took a quick glance and went back to his phone.
"I have never seen her before." His eyes were latched on the girl, seeing the way she talked with her hands, nodding and smiling at whatever the other girl was talking about.
"She just joined the team."
"What’s her name?" Charles nudged Joris again, causing him to heave a sigh and stand up.
"Y/N!" Joris called out.
"Joris! What the fuck?" Charles slapped his friend’s leg and looked away. The phone in his hand seemed to be looking much more interesting, though it wasn’t even turned on. While his fingers were dancing and tapping on any random buttons on his phone, his ears were listening to the conversation—well, more like listening to her voice. It was weird how he had never seen her before, but Joris seemed to be getting along with her very well.
"That was Y/N." Joris gave a smile, stealing a peep from Charles’s phone, and laughed when he saw it was on camera, capturing Charles’s face from an angle below. "Nice picture, by the way. Is that why you couldn’t stop looking at it when she was here?"
"Very unnecessary, Joris. You could have just told me her name." He threw his cap on and stood up to leave the room.
"I thought you wanted to get to know her." Joris exclaimed, seeing his best friend walking away.
"I can figure that one myself!"
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"Charlie!"
"Hey, Adam! Give me a five!" He bent down as the little one hopped and touched their hands together. This has been his fourth time seeing him, and every single time, his visit would get longer and longer. The first time he met the kid, he just dropped by to give him candy and walked away. This time, he came by with candy and shared a few little jokes and games.
"Do you always wander around the paddock alone? Your dad never gets mad." He ripped the top off the candy and handed it to the kid.
"No, mommy won’t be mad if I just stay around the red garage. Oh! Sour!" His face scrunched up, making the driver cackle.
"Oh? You’re with your mom? Dang, this is sour." He made a face and shivered as the sourness hit.
"Yeah, I’m with mommy! Daddy is…" He looked down, his bottom lips jutting out. Charles knew right away it wasn’t something light if this was the reaction coming from a 4-year-old kid, so he cut the topic short.
"You don’t have anything sweet in there? I’m not a fan of sour candy."
Adam patted his pockets and shook his head. "No more candy! I stole that from mommy. Shh, she didn’t know." He put his pointy finger on his lips and giggled.
"Your secret is safe with me, buddy. I have to go. See you around, Adam!" Charles stood up and gave the little one a pat on the head before he went to get Andrea for his short meeting before the press conference.
"This will be your..." 
Charles was slapped with what felt like a brick when it was just a file of papers, but the sting was unexpected, causing him to lean back as he covered one side of his face with his hand.
"Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I just slap you?"
Chuckling, he shook his head and pressed his palm on his eyes—the ones that just got slapped on. "No, no. Well, yes, I’m okay. Are you–"  Her beauty from up close astounded him, erasing all vocabularies in his head as he went blank. "You are beautiful," he muttered.
"Sorry?"
"Oh? Oh, nothing. Y/N, right?" He offered a handshake with the widest grin. "I’m Charles."
"Everyone knows who you are, Charles." You laughed, accepting the handshake. "How do you know my name? I never properly introduced myself."
"Oh, Joris told me." He answered, his eyes still on her, making him look like a fool without realising it.
"Do you have anything else to say? Because I need to." She pointed the other way. "I need to head there."
He pulled himself back to his senses and stepped aside. "Oh, sorry about that. I’m not going to hold you any longer."
"Sorry about that. Good luck in the qualifying round!"
"Oh, wait! Is this yours?" He crouched down and took the sour candies on his feet. The same one he got from the kid
"Oh, yeah! Must have slipped off my hand. Thank you!"
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"Mommy, look!"
You took the paper that he handed to you and cackled at the drawing. "What is this, sweetheart?"
"Guess, mommy! Look, I drew the moustache too." He pointed at the little lines, wearing the proudest smile.
"A moustache? Is that a cat?"
"Yes! Like the one we used to have!" He started collecting all of his marker pens and coloured pencils, placing them in his small pencil case as he saw you start packing your stuff. "Are we going back already?"
"Yeah, mommy’s all done with my work, so we can head back early. Should we go on a little date and get ice cream?" Shutting down your laptop, you placed them in the case when Adam seemed to be rushing to go somewhere with his little backpack. "Where are you going?"
"Mommy, wait! I haven’t met Charlie!"
"What even is Charlie?" You muttered, picking up the missing marker pens he had missed for rushing.
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"Hey, munchkin! I was waiting for you." Charles grinned and offered his hand for a high five. "Where have you been?"
"Oh! I’m going back already. Wait!" He sneaked his little hand into his pocket and frowned when he couldn’t find the thing he was looking for. Charles then saw him pull his arms off his small backpack and sneak his little hand inside the small compartment. "This is for you!"
"You are going home? Why?" Taking the small Mars bar from the little one, he kept it in his hand as he helped him put on his backpack again.
"Mommy’s done with her work early today, so I’m going out on a date!"
Charles grabbed his little arm before he could sprint away. "You? You are going out on a date? Wait, with who?"
"Adam!"
The driver’s facial expression went blank as he heard the voice. The little arm in his hand slipped off as he saw the little one run and hug the legs of the woman he has been dying to talk to over the past couple of months.
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"Mommy!"
You ruffled his hair as he crashed into you. "Have you met your Charlie?" Bending down, you squeezed his chubby cheeks as you took his hand in yours.
"Yes! That’s Charlie!" He exclaimed, pointing at someone.
You saw Charles still crouching down with a Mars bar in his hand. He was already looking at you as you laid your eyes on him. He looked surprised and stunned, as he didn’t seem to catch the smile you gave.
"He's—he’s yours? Adam, is your kid?" He queried, taking steps closer.
"Yeah, he’s my son. Wait–" Looking down, you cupped his little cheek. "Adam, Charlie, is Charles? Is this the friend you have been giving your candy away to?"
"Yes!" he squealed.
You thought he had been making friends with a cat or any other person, but not with an actual driver, because who would have thought he would have the most time in the world to be friends with a 4-year-old kid? "I’m so sorry if he had been bothering you. I truly had no idea about that.”
"It’s okay, Y/N. I got free candies." He showed the Mars bar he had in his hand, making you chuckle.
"I am going out on a date with mommy. Do you want to come?"
His words became a mumble as you quickly covered his mouth. "Charlie is busy, Adam." Tilting your head back and facing the driver, you asked the little one to wave before walking away. "I’ll get going now. Say bye, Adam."
"Bye, Charlie!"
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"What’s with that smile?" Joris peeked his head to look at the little kid, who kept looking back every now and then to wave his little hand at the driver.
"Nothing." Charles ripped off the Mars bar in his hand and took a bite of it, cocking his brow at Joris, who seemed to have more questions. "What?"
"Nothing." He mimicked Charles’s expression and moved away before he could get hit in the head.
"You didn’t tell me she had a kid." Charles blurted.
"I thought you wanted to figure it out yourself. Why? Does it change anything?"
"What do you mean?" He queried, taking another bite from the chocolate bar.
"Does it change your little crush on her now that you know she has a kid?"
"No, not at all. I like her even more now." He chuckled and did a double take on his friend. "Wait, how do you know I have a crush on her?"
"Because you aren’t being too discreet about it. I bet Adam knew it too. Give me that." Joris snatched the chocolate bar from the driver’s hand and took the last bite. "You shouldn’t eat too much sweet for your diet, you know."
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"Adam, I need your help." The sound of music in the room was cut off when the driver finally spoke what had been in his head for weeks. Charles was lying down on the couch in his driver room with his little friend, while the little one was too busy colouring the dinosaur from his book.
"More candy?" He asked, switching to a different colour pencil from his case.
"No, not candy. I wanted to ask your mom on a date." He put his phone away and sat up, looking at the little one full of anticipation.
"No."
"Wait, what? Why?" Charles stood up and took a seat by Adam’s side. He casually started participating in the colouring activity as he took a blue pencil and started filling in the tail section of the dinosaur. "I thought we were friends?"
"Mommy only goes on a date with me."
"She might want to go on a date with me." He assured him, helping him change to a different coloured pencil.
"I don’t want mommy to cry again, so, no. I need to go now!" He stood up and packed his colourful stuff inside his little backpack with the help of the driver.
"I won’t make her cry, Adam." Charles handed him his colouring book as the toddler stood up to leave.
"That’s what Daddy used to say too. Bye bye, Charlie!"
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"Charlie hurt?" 
"Yes, sweetheart. He crashed today, so you shouldn’t bug him, okay? Just stay here." You pinched his little cheek before handing him his iPad. "Not too long. Turn it off when mommy says so, alright?"
Adam did listen to you and stayed in the break room while you sorted out a few things before race day tomorrow. There wasn’t any meeting until the next hour, so you got to do your work while listening to your kid watch Coco ten times this weekend.
Until you heard a knock on the door,
"Hi. Uhm, I’m looking for Adam." Your eyes widened as the driver peeked his head inside the room.
"Charlie!" He put his iPad to the side and hopped off the couch to run straight into Charles’s arms.
"Why didn’t you come to see me?"
"Mommy said I shouldn’t bug you. Are you okay?" You chuckled when he cupped the driver’s cheeks with his small hands.
"Yeah, I’m okay. Wait, actually, not really."
To that, Adam gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh, no! You need candy?"
"Come here." Charles pulled your son to the end of the room, so you were no longer able to eavesdrop on the conversation.
You saw those two start whispering something, giggling, and laughing while you were left out. "Bye Charlie!" He waved as the driver trod, leaving the break room.
"Bye, munchkin. See you, Y/N. You look beautiful in a ponytail, by the way."
You were taken back by the sudden compliment, and your hand went to stroke your hair now that he mentioned it. "But I always have my hair tied?"
"Yeah, that’s what I meant." He gave a wink before walking away, leaving you and your toddler, who seemed to find the whole situation funny.
"What did he tell you?" You tried to pry into their business, acting casual by going back to your work.
"It’s a secret!" He winked, which looked more like a face scrunch as he went back on his iPad, making you frown in confusion.
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"Go! Open the door!"
"I can’t. Give me a second."
"Why?"
"I’m nervous, buddy."
"I’ll open it for you!"
"No, no!"
You were staying in the break room, playing with your phone while your little one stayed outside, watching an army of people in the paddock celebrate the drivers on the podium. He had promised to stay just outside the room so you wouldn’t have to worry about him being in the crowd, but minutes later, you kept hearing whispers right outside the door. You weren’t sure who the owner of the other one was, but you were so sure one of them belonged to your son.
"Mommy?" 
"The door is not locked, love. Just come in." You replied and went back to your phone, expecting him to walk in, but he didn’t.
"Go, Charlie!”
"Is there anything wrong?" Placing the phone away, you pushed the door open and saw that your toddler kept on pushing the driver towards your door. "Charles? Do you need anything?"
"Y/N. Actually–"
"Charlie wants to ask you out on a date!" Adam cut in.
The words made you flabbergasted. That was impossible. Why would he ask you out on a date when every woman he met on a daily basis dressed up way better and had better body shape than you?
And they were single. While you were a divorcee, you even had a kid.
"Stop joking around, Adam. Leave Charlie alone, okay?" Adam hid behind the driver as you tried to grab his arm, giggling while hugging Charles’s legs.
"Would you go out on a date with me?"
You gave a dry smile and shook your head right away. "Sorry, Charles. I have a kid, remember? Who’s going to take care of him if I—“
"Joris will play with me! Right, Charlie?" He pulled on the Ferrari’s shirt, chuckling as he felt Charles’s hand on his neck.
"Joris agreed to take care of Adam for one night. They are best friends." Charles assured.
"I can’t, Charles. I’m so sorry."
He followed you inside while Adam stayed outside to find Joris. "But why?" You ignored him. "Y/N, why?"
"I should be asking you that. Why me? I don’t get it. I have a kid, Charles." You took your phone and started taking your laptop bag.
"And what’s wrong with that?"
"Nothing’s wrong, but you have all those hot girls ready for you to ask them out. I am way out of your league, Charles." 
He held your arm to stop you from walking out of the room. "I got Adam’s permission, and I promised him that I was going to take you out. Please give me a chance."
"How did you get his permission?"
You saw him awkwardly smile as he scratched the back of his neck. "He promised me his permission if I ended up in the top 5 this weekend."
Laughing, you rolled your eyes at how ridiculous the deal was.
"Is that a yes?" He tilted his head, having a little faith in how the tension in the room seemed to die down.
"Fine. Just one date."
To that, he bit his lips and threw up a fist. "Yes! You’ll be in Maranello next weekend, yeah? I’ll pick up."
"Sure, I’ll send you the address."
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"Be nice to Joris, alright?"
"Mommy looks very pretty!" He placed both of his palms on your cheeks and gave you a kiss before hugging you by the neck. "Have fun with Charlie! Let me know if he makes you cry, and I’ll." He showed you his little fist. "I’ll hit him!"
Giggling, you kiss him back on his cheek. "I thought you said he was nice."
"Yeah, Charlie is very nice. That’s why I let him take mommy out on a date." He ran towards the main door as Joris helped put his sneakers on. "Bye mommy!"
Back then, when he was born, you always worried if you were able to raise him all on your own. If you could take on both responsibilities as his mother and father figure at a young age, You were grateful enough, as he had grown up to be a very gentle and cheerful kid, despite what he had witnessed occasionally whenever your ex-husband paid a visit. He was never a good dad. He never wanted to be one. Adam barely called him dad. He never knew what it felt like to have a dad, but he would always reassure you that he was glad enough to have the perfect mom. Though you tried to keep your marriage problems between you and your ex-husband, Adam was smart enough to figure out what his dad was like. Whenever your ex-husband came by, you would always get bruises on your body. Maybe that was why your little one grew up to be very protective of you, despite his age.
Charles had told you he was a few minutes away, so you weren’t expecting to see your former spouse when you opened the door.
"Where are you going?" He pushed the door and walked inside as if he had any right to do so.
"It’s none of your business. Please leave."
"It’s my house. Where’s Adam? And why are you all dressed up?" He scanned you up and down, smirking as if you looked humorous.
"Leave, please."
"Come on, baby. I haven’t seen you for months. I have missed you."
You pressed your lips into a thin line, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. Whenever you were home, he would always come by to ask for sex. He would beat you up if you ever resisted any of his attempts, but you would rather get beaten than be in the same bed with him again. You were just glad Adam wasn’t here to witness it all again. "Leave me alone!" You yelled, pushing him off from pinning your body against the wall.
"You fucking bitc—who’s that?" His hand, which was about to hit you in the face, came to an abrupt stop when the doorbell rang.
"It’s no one." The doorbell rang again.
"Go and open the door. It’s fucking annoying." He pushed you on your head, making you jerk forward towards the door.
You wiped on your tears that rolled down your cheeks before twisting the lock as you were greeted by Charles, with his dimples that went shallow as soon as he saw you.
"Y/N? Are you crying?"
You let out a sob and tilted your face away from the tears that rolled down your cheeks again. "I’m sorry, I can’t make it today."
"What’s wrong? Did something happen?" He gently tilted your face and felt his stomach drop when he saw your broken expression. "What happened, Y/N?"
"I–" You sobbed again.
"She wants you to leave, kid."
Charles pushed the door wider as he walked in and stood in front of you. "Who are you?"
"I’m her husband."
You felt his hand on your arm as he pulled you closer; his gaze was still locked on the older guy.
Charles let out a chuckle, seeing how absurd this whole situation was. "So, you are the ex-husband. Well, I don’t think it was me who wasn’t supposed to be in here."
"Kid, this is my house, and that bitch that you are touching is mine." He snarled.
"Don’t call me that. And she’s not yours." Charles furrowed at the man, feeling your hand gripping his arm.
"Ah, so she’s yours now? Did you claim her yet?"
"She’s not mine. She’s no one's possession because she’s not a fucking item. You should leave." His teeth were clenched as his gaze pierced the man. "Leave before I call the cops on you."
"I’ll get going first, baby. See you when this motherfucker is gone, yeah?" You flinched when you felt his cold skin on your cheek.
"Don’t fucking touch her." Charles yanked his hand away and locked the door after the older man was gone, leaving you and him alone.
"Did he hurt you?" Charles cupped on your face, heaving a sigh of relief when there wasn’t anything serious as you shook your head at his question.
Charles wanted to ask a lot of questions, but you were still shaken up by the whole thing, so he grabbed you by your hand as both of you settled down on the couch.
"You can leave, Charles. I’m sorry for ruining your night."
"It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. And who said the date was ruined? Adam told me you love pizza, so are you up for a pizza night?" He found himself grinning when he saw that little smile on your beautiful face.
It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date; instead, you were sitting on the couch with a box of pizza while watching a Disney movie. Charles had to pick out the pineapple on every slice of pizza and vocally judged you on your preference because there was no way he could eat a pizza with a pineapple together.
But it was a very fun night. It was enough to make you completely forget what had happened earlier, but enough to not make the day all about that.
"Y/N, can I ask something?" He picked out another pineapple, trying so hard not to make a disgusted face, which made you laugh.
"Is this about what happened?" You confirmed.
"Yeah, but if you don’t feel comfortable answering, then it’s fine." Charles took a bite of his now pineapple-free pizza.
"No, it’s okay. You can ask." You collected the pineapple he picked off and ate it on its own.
"How long?"
"How long has it been since he did that? It was on and off. If he got a new girlfriend, he would stop coming by for a couple of months." You saw the look he had on you, and it made you feel sad at how bad your life has turned out to be.
"You didn’t report to the police?"
"I did, but I never got any further updates. I even tried to move away, but he always managed to find me back. Which is why I’m always happy whenever I have to travel for work. That way, he won’t be able to ruin my life, and Adam could live his life as a child without having to worry about me." You looked away as you started to clean up the empty box as an excuse so you wouldn’t have to look at his face any longer or you would be crying again.
"I’ll see what I can do. It’s about time for the authority to take action about this. I promise I’ll help you."
"Thank you, Charles. I owe you a lot. I really don’t know how to pay you back." You beamed and dipped your hand in the small box.
"You still owe me a proper date?"
"Fine, make it the second date. Do you want candy?" You handed him one as you popped one in your mouth.
"Ah!" Charles blurted it out, making you jump. "How could I miss this?" He took the sour candy and burst out laughing. It was the same candy that he had been getting from Adam way before he found out he was related to you. "Adam had been stealing your sour candies all this time to share them with me."
"Really?" You laughed along, connecting the dots as to why your candy seemed to be way less than it should have been.
"Guess I love sour candies now." He threw one into his mouth and shivered at the sourness.
✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision
If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!
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sorcerous-caress · 5 months
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Type of romantic gifts they'd give you
[Bg3, fluff, nb!reader]
[Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Shadowheart, Astarion, Laezel, Halsin, Minthara, Karniss]
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Wyll
Flowers. Each bouquet conveys a different meaning and tells a hundred tales about his feelings for you. From the petal colours to the delicate ribbon holding the stems together, not a single detail was overlooked.
Enteries to both worlds. Invites to the most eloquent galas reserved for the noble class, elegent clothes and glittering jewellery. And warm heartfelt welcomes into the most popular tavrens for adventurers, even the dangerous ones greet you and Wyll with cold drinks and a warm meal.
A shoulder to lean on, someone to be your own hero. The royalty treatment becomes the norm for you, a quiet dance in your shared home, swaying slowly as the rain scatters against the windows outside.
.
Karlach
Cheesy handmade coupons for hugs. Physical affection is a big part of the way she shows love, yet no hugs feel better than the ones she knows both of you want, rather than only her. These hand drawn coupons are to give her reassurance in a way that you also crave her embrace as much as she does.
Taking you out to her favourite spots. Introducing you to all her past and current friends. Absolutely involving you in every aspect of her inner circles and slowly integrating you into her world. She wants all the people that she loves to know each other, to be there, and to support each other. Friends, family, and neighbours, she craves a community.
Carrying your stuff. Be it your bags, equipment, or anything. She enjoys being strong for you, never letting you lift a heavy thing ever. Giving you her jacket if you get cold, even switching your shoes if yours are uncomfortable. Dress however you want, she knows how to fight after all.
.
Gale
Homecooked meals. Frozen soup in food containers. You'll never go hungry with him around. Love is a major ingredient in each dish he makes, recipes passed down from generations. Restaurants' food becomes dull in comparison. No bakery dessert can compare to his home baked pie.
A picnic near the sea side. It's windy, the air is refreshing and nice. Waves come crashing gently, almost brushing against your feet before retreating back. Tara purrs in your lap, her wings warming your hand underneath it as you scratch her fur. Gale is by your side, telling you about a new discovery he made in his research. Content in staying by your side despite the crown laying at the bottom of the ocean in front of you.
Constellations seeming brighter, the sky looks as if it held twice as many stars than usual. There's a sparkle in his eyes, wrinkles at their edges from his smile.
.
Shadowheart
Wine/non-alcoholic drinks and sweets. She has a taste for delicacies and sharing them with you. Whatever she picks, it's always somehow very rich in flavour, melts against the tongue, and the aftertaste is an experience by itself.
Takes you to her home, visiting her parents who welcomed you as if you were another child of theirs. For the first time in her life, she has a family, and she wants to include you in it. You are a part of it, after all. A part of her.
Nursing your sickness away, sticking with you through thick and thin. Even at your most ill of states. She doesn't pat an eye at you throwing up, sneezing, or not having the energy to shower. She helps you through it. She never judges you over it, unconditional love in its purest forms as she ensures your recovery.
.
Astarion
Precious poetry he wrote himself. As much as he scoffs over anything too chessy, he can't help using his mother tongue and spinning endless lines about you in elvish in his private journal. On the rare occasion, giving you a glimpse through it. Pretending to leave his journal open by pure coincidence in front of you, on the exact page of the peom with your name on it.
The both of you traverse the underdark. He takes you to a special spot he found under a sussur tree. The blue glow of the silver branches lights up the edges of his hair like a halo, and your eyelids feel heavy with your head on his lap.
Stiching the holes in your clothes. Maintaining them in his free time and making sure they are cared for. Each piece that might hold a sentimental value to you or a precious memory receives special treatment from him. Sometimes, he stiches a joke or two into your undergarments that you don't realise until much later on.
.
Laezel
Gifts you a sharp and expertly smithed sword. Silver in colour with various ruby red stones decorating the handle, it feels at home in your grip, specifically made for your hands.
Takes you as her guide through Faerun, let's you introduce her to the places you love, the things you like. You can tell her interest is genuine, he curiosity is evident as she tries everything you recommend to her.
Reads to you, each night she'd indulge your curiosities and read one of the many githyanki literature disks you've accumulated. Her voice never tires, she pronounces each word with care and emotion. It's beyond soothing, even her comments inbetween narrating the story never fail to make you smile.
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Halsin
Blessings of nature extend to you as well. The birds don't fly away when you approach, the tree branches don't get caught in your clothes, and the bugs take a polite detour around you as they crawl. He shares the love he received with you.
You've never seen so many children rush to you before, look up to you with respect, and search for guidance. He grants you the opportunity to raise the ones who will hold the torch after us, to imped your wisdom upon them, and help shape a better future.
Never growing cold again, buried deep against his soft fur as gaint bear paws hold you so softly. Despite the pouring snow outside, you sink deeper into his warm embrace. Cute round ears flicker in the corner of your vision, and you can't help but rub them alongside his soft belly.
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Minthara
jewellery, each one is unique and more expensive than the last. Various earrings with pearls and necklaces with glittering diamonds. Even a special one that hugs your neck deliciously, with her name on it. Body accessories hugging your curves and wrapping around you. A pair of matching rings.
Takes you into her heart, behind the iron walls, behind the mazes of ice. Shows you her tender beating vulnerable flesh, the small kindness she protected so fiercely and hid from the world. Her true love, yours for the taking and yours alone.
The disembodied heads of your enemies in a gift box wrapped for you, everyone who has ever wronged you has their skulls displayed on the shelves. She becomes your blade, your sword and shield.
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Karniss
Prayers. Offers them to you as he kneels, talking in a hushed tone as he begs a greater being for your safety, for your heart, and for you love. For their blessings upon him to shield you from the darkness, his split mind making him seeth in anger and hatred at all those who dared hurt or question you.
Brings you to his nest, a small cave with tight webs shielding the entrance. He teaches you how to slip through them, holds you close as he lifts you in his arms and makes passage inside. You're a very welcome addition to his home, his sanctuary.
Gifts you his venom regularly. Whether it's a kiss as his fangs slip past your soft lips and bleed venom down your throat, or a bite into the soft flesh of your neck that injects it directly into your veins. He builds up your resistance slowly so he may protect you from himself and anyone who tries to steal your life away.
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thewulf · 10 months
Text
Good News || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: So i saw somewhere where a woman got into trouble for "destruction of government property" but it's just her giving her military husband hickies, and i think this would be so hilarious with Jake Seresin.
A/N: This one came so quickly to me. It's just pure fluff. All the Jake Seresin fluff! Short but sweet. Hope you all enjoy :)
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N
Word Count: 2.3k +
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Your eyes flipped back to the calendar on the wall with a big red circle around today. You’d probably looked at that calendar a thousand times over the last six months as you waited. Waited agonizingly every single day praying you wouldn’t get a knock on your door or the dreaded phone call.
Jake had been deployed on a carrier off the coast of Israel in the Mediterranean Sea for the last six months. You knew it came with the territory when you started dating him all those years ago. It terrified you every single time he came to tell you he was off on a mission or going on orders overseas. You’d never show it, only your utmost support and confidence in the man. But you knew how dangerous it was. He told you about all the men and women he’s seen gone down and some never making it home in his short span as a pilot in the Navy. It didn’t just terrify you, it rocked you all the way down to your core. What if he didn’t make it home? He was a hell of a pilot, one of the best that was flying, but things didn’t always go your way. He knew that. You knew it. Everybody seemed to know it.
But today was the day. He was coming home. After the months of shitty less than communication and trying your best to stay distracted it was here. He was safe. He was alive. You’d talked to him just a few hours ago. Waiting.
Jake’s parents picked you up from your shared home just off base that’d been eerily quiet in his absence. They didn’t want you driving in your hyper-fixated state. They never wanted you driving when it came to these kinds of events. They knew how much it tore you up when he was gone on deployment. If you didn’t fly down to Texas they made sure to fly to you. Just to keep you company. You hadn’t a clue how you’d gotten so lucky to have them in your life. And hopefully in the future as family. You never pushed it though. You didn’t want him to panic and ran. And truth be told you’d be fine never marrying him so long as he was like this in your life. Your best friend and love wrapped up in one.
“Are you excited?” His mom asked seeing you nearly bouncing out of the backseat once the car rolled onto base.
“Oh Nancy,” you could only nod your head in confirmation, “I’m more than excited.” Your cheeks were starting to burn from the big cheesy grin you were wearing.
His dad, David, spoke up, “I know Jake is just as excited.” He smiled just feeling the excitement in the air. These days were truly the best. Six months was a long time to be away. The longest deployment he’d been on in years.
The three of you made small talk as David drove to the base. Once parked, you happily led the older couple over to where the sailors would stand before they waited to be dismissed. You watched as the hundred or so men and women aboard the ship departed to their designated formation. Your eyes scanned for your loved one. Your Jake.
Finally spotting him you waited anxiously as the rest of the crew lined up. You just had to wait it out another ten minutes or so. They had to officially be dismissed before they could break for the family reunions. These last few minutes always seemed to draw on for decades trying to be as patient as possible.
You kept your eyes on him as he kept his forward. You hadn’t a clue that he already spotted you moments before you did him. But he had to keep his attention forward. No matter how anxious he was to see his favorite girl again.
They second they were dismissed Jake made a beeline right for you. Your face lit up in surprise as he headed right at you. Your body responding by moving forward you jumped right into his arms once he got close enough. He was more than ready. He wrapped his arms right around you securing you tightly to his chest while your feet locked behind him.
“Jakey.” You grinned hugging him tightly, afraid he’d be gone from your arms again you cherished every second like this. It made you realize how much you really did love the man you were holding so tightly. How much you craved him, everything about him. You’d rather not have had him gone for six months though. That was far too long for your liking. As if you had any say.
“Honey.” He cooed gently rocking you side to side. One arm snaked around your waist, one arm gently cradling your head in his hands, “You’re so fucking pretty. How’d you get even more beautiful? God I missed your face.” Jake leaned down capturing your lips in his. As gentle as he normally was with you this was hungrier. He really had missed you. Giving your hip as squeeze you felt him smile into the kiss as you squirmed away from his grasp.
Once you stopped giggling you looked right into his eyes smiling dopily, “And I missed yours, handsome man.” You gave him a wicked smirk before doing the unthinkable. Jake had warned you time and time again how he couldn’t show visible marks on the skin, or the Navy could have his ass. And maybe even yours if they were angry enough. You’d known they were empty threats, but you’d never dreamed of potentially hurting his flying in anyway. So, you’d never leave any marks.
Sliding his collar to the side you decided to throw caution to the wind seeing everybody lost in their own world with their own families. Jake’s parents were even admiring all the reunions around them instead of having their eyes fixated on the two of you. They loved watching all the joy every time. Nancy always made sure that every sailor was feeling the love. That was just one of the reasons you’d fallen in love not only with Jake but his entire family. His mom was as sweet as they came. His dad just as caring but even more tough. It was no wonder Jake was the way he was. Albeit a little more of an asshole than either of them even combined.
“Ma’am. That is abhorrent.” A vaguely familiar voice made you focus on your surroundings once more, “This is Destruction of Government Property.” You heard a cough from behind Jake drawing you away from your boyfriends neck. The look you sent could’ve killed him if it were at all possible. Bradley fucking Bradshaw. Was he actually serious right now?
You felt Jake’s laughter in his chest before you heard it. Flicking your eyes up momentarily at him you kissed him on his cheek before flipping Bradley off, “I don’t care Bradley.” You continued flipping him off while Jake held you tightly to his chest.
“Sweetheart…” Jake tried to warn you. The government really did own his ass. But his Commanding Officer was cool. He wasn’t expected to be back on base for another few weeks… what did a few hickies hurt? You knew the drill, but it didn’t seem to matter as you clung to him like he was about to vanish at any second. He looked down at your doe eyed expression, “I missed you.” He finished realizing just how hard deployment really was on you. The two of you were going on year five together. He’d been a pilot for all of them. He’d flown his hardest missions during that time. Your support never wavered. But seeing you like this? Like you’d never see him again… it hurt him. It hurt knowing you were feeling like that.
“You’ll care when there are Naval Officers on your doorstep.” Bradley tried. He really did. But you really didn’t care. You missed him more than anything. You didn’t care that his parents were there watching. You just missed him. Missed his corny ass jokes and the soft touches he always threw your way. You missed the sweet smiles and laughter that came with being around him. 
“So be it. Worth it.” You giggled as Jake pinched your sides again bringing your attention back to the man you’d dreamed about every day.
“Eyes over here darling.” He made sure to flip Bradley off before holding you back in his arms once again. He wouldn’t let you drop your hold on him. He wanted you close. He didn’t care either. He’d craved you for those months. He’d forgotten just how bad deployment got. Bradley mumbled some incoherent words before disappearing off into the crowd.
Kissing his cheek once more you nodded, “Sorry Jakey.” Brushing your hands through his hair it felt like it really was just the two of you there. Like nobody else was around.
“No need to apologize.” He whispered in your ear sending immediate chills down your spine, “You didn’t answer my question though. How’d you seem to get even more beautiful while I was gone?”
You truly felt like a little schoolgirl was a nasty crush on a boy way out of your league. He was so sweet to you and only you. Not having a clue why. You loved watching him interact with everyone else. He was so different than the man who came home to you every night. But that was Jake. Tough as they come. Sweet as can be. The biggest fight the two of you had was when he came home and told you about the six month long deployment a year ago. You didn’t even fight you were just sad. Sad that he volunteered to go. Volunteered and didn’t tell you. The two of you worked through it though. You always did.
“Shush. You’ve just been trapped on a big boat for so long I’d be offended if you didn’t think I was pretty.” You wanted to kiss him so bad. You didn’t even remember the kiss you gave him once you spotted him walk off the ship. You blacked out, truly.
“Never ever.” He grinned, “I’ll never stop complementing my beautiful girl.”
You squeezed your arms around him pulling him so much closer. You’d melt into him if you could, “You’re too sweet to me Mr. Seresin.”
He shook his head, “Not enough, I’d say.” He took the lead this time leaning down to give you a soft, sweet kiss that was far too short for your liking.
“I love you.” You whispered to him feeling oh so happy. So beyond excited he was holding you in his arms once again. You tried to step away to give his parents a chance to say hello, but he only held you tighter. Shaking his head.
“Love you too, gorgeous girl.” He hummed placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “That was it, by the way.”
You scrunched your eyes together in confusion, “What?”
He nodded his head with that larger than life smile on his face, “You’re looking at Captain Jake Seresin. Command Ground Officer.” He emphasized ground with wide eyes.
“Jake! Congrats. You didn’t tell me! Does this mean you’re here? Permanently?” Looking at him expectedly. It hit you just how good it could really get once you knew he’d be sleeping by your side every night.
He nodded his head in excitement, “At least for this job. I’ll still be flying but more on the leadership side. Training. Preparing them.”
You didn’t think your heart could swell any larger in love. But there it went. Only Jake could do that. You knew it. He knew it, “You’re not kidding right? Like you’re being serious?”
“Yes sweetheart. So serious.” He kissed your nose this time. He missed you more than you could’ve imagined. It was an impossible six months. He didn’t want to do that anymore. He couldn’t be away from you anymore. Lucky for him he had options. They let him choose. He choose to ground himself from missions. It was time to grow up and move on. He’d accomplished everything he sought out to and more already in the air. Now he was on a mission to rise to the top. Admiral Jake Seresin had a ring to it. 
You wanted to squeal but knew you had eyes all over you. Anybody could’ve been watching, “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while J.”
“Just you wait.” He grinned ear to ear leaning down once more, whispering into your ear, “Won’t even be the best news you’ve heard all day.” Leaning all the way down he kissed you with a little bit more but keeping it PG. His parents were standing there a little annoyed that he’d chosen to be with you for so long before he even acknowledged them. But they knew. They knew the raw power of love. How much it could sway and dissuade. How deeply Jake was in love with you and how much you were with him.
“Oh? Do tell.” You pulled away looking at him curiously.
“You’ll see.” He wiggled his eyebrows just to egg you on.
You narrowed your eyebrows in on the man you loved so dearly, “You know how much I hate surprises.”
He laughed gleefully, “Oh darling, I know.” He pulled you back into him momentarily, “Promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”
“Promise?” You knew he’d keep true to his word, but you wanted to hear him confirm it.
“I promise you darling. Just you wait.” Squeezing your hand, he finally walked over to his parents bringing you right along with him. Only dropping your hand as he went in for the hug with his mom.
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Taglist: @stuffingbuttsandshit @genius2050
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hannieehaee · 2 months
Note
Svt as tropes
seventeen as tropes
content: crushes, fluff, some of these are idol!aus (as in the member is an idol, not reader), etc.
wc: 884
a/n: these are just tropes that come to mind when i think of each member. i tried to keep it varied and original <3
masterlist
seungcheol -
enemies to lovers - he seems like he can be maybe a lil bit cocky at times (with reason, i mean have you seen him ..), so i think itd be possible to start off the wrong foot with him. he's also pretty stubborn, so pair with him another stubborn individual and you have a dragged out love story that begins with rivals and ends with a very fiery relationship.
jeonghan -
coworkers to lovers - jeonghan seems like an extremely charming and interesting guy who doesnt even have to try. im 100% sure people who work around him fall for him every single day. i think he'd be very entertained by the idea of crushing on a staff member/coworker. it would make him look forward to work and make him always seek you out while on the job.
joshua -
childhood friends to lovers - he seems the type that would keep a special someone in his heart for a very long time, even if it was just as friends. leaving his home country so young, the distance would make him realize his feelings and end up with that one special person from back home.
jun -
arranged marriage - okay not exactly arranged marriage but more so him being with someone his parents introduce him to! he seems to be a huge family oriented guy, so i see him ending up with someone his parents may have thought would be perfect for him. it'd start off as him giving it a chance to please his parents but ending up actually falling for this person.
soonyoung -
sunshine vs. grump - this concept isnt necessarily 100% black and white to me. but still i think maybe he would fall for someone who has a very contrasting personality his very positive and over the top demeanor. he'd enjoy the back and forth in which he'd act ridiculously to get his s/o to react while they pretended to be annoyed by him.
wonwoo -
long distance - idk if this is a trope ?? but i think wonwoo's love absolutely transcends any and every obstacle imaginable. i think he would be the definition of distance makes the heart grow fonder. he would cherish every single moment he got to be with you, constantly yearning for you any second he was away from you.
jihoon -
opposites attract - as someone who seems to keep to himself a lot and is a bit of a homebody, i think he would easily fall for someone who got him out of his comfort zone and got him to discover parts of himself he didnt know about before. would adore an s/o who was louder in nature and livelier, feeling some sort of nurturing sense in him come out whenever he was around them.
seokmin -
friends to lovers - its a classic for a reason! i cant understand how people dont constantly fall for seokmin but im 100% sure that if he had a crush on a friend of his, he would easily be able to charm them enough for them to reciprocate the crush. there would be a period of time of that cute back and forth in which he tried to 'court' them, ending up together in the end.
mingyu -
chance encounter - watching nana tour ive loved seeing how insanely outgoing and likable by strangers he is so i think that he would be the type to incidentally meet a person and subsequently fall for them. however, mingyu is a hopeless romantic so he wouldnt allow for this to be his one and only meeting. he would go to hell and back to reconnect.
minghao -
language barrier - ok ik this isnt actually a trope but i really do see minghao taking interest in a person who doesnt speak his language. i think that if a foreigner (in this case someone who does not speak korean or chinese) caught his attention, he would not be deterred by the language barrier and still seek them out. he would maybe even be more intrigued by the concept of communicating despite the barrier.
seungkwan -
found family - seungkwan is one of the sweetest and most likable people alive. im sure there's tons of people out there who consider him part of their found family. i think he'd be the type to become super close with that special someone (to the point of considering them as precious as his own family) only to eventually fall for them (and have them fall right back bc i mean its boo so how would you not fall for him!).
vernon -
class difference - i really see him falling for someone who's not in the industry. just someone who is an average person with an average life. this would obviously come with its complications, but i think he would enjoy the contrast between your lives and would live a regular life through your own.
chan -
mutual pining - contrary to popular opinion, i believe chan has insane rizz. however! i think he would be the type to have negative rizz when he has a crush on someone. he's still impossible to not fall for though, so this would lead to him and his future s/o to pine for each other for years, not realizing that their friendship could be more if one of then would just step up and confess.
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jenosbigtoe · 5 months
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Hey I love ur blog and ur writing. Could u pls make another alpha jeno 🙏🙏🙏 .....no pressure.
mdni. nsfw 18+
pairing: step brother!alpha!lee jeno x reader
warnings: exes to lovers, stepcest (don’t read if you’re uncomfortable), abo, masturbation (f), marking, scenting, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex,
a/n: i felt like a part 2 to the one i already made wouldn’t make any sense so i added a twist… i kinda went crazy um it wasn’t supposed to be this long
when you found out your mom was marrying your first love’s, lee jeno’s, dad, you cried for weeks.
“m-mom, why would you do this to me?” you sobbed, tears rolling down your puffy eyes. “you know what he meant to me.”
“well y/n i’m sure you know what it’s like for an unmated omega to live in this world,” she responded, rubbing your back affectionately. “i love his dad and he loves me. we are getting married. it’s not like you’re even together anymore so it shouldn’t even matter.”
you jerked away from the contact and stomped all the way back to your room to cry even harder in your pillow all night.
you and your mother moved into your new stepdad’s house the next month. it all felt so fast. one day you found out your mother was marrying the father of the love of your life and now you’re moving into his house. how were you supposed to face your now stepbrother who was also your ex? the last time you’ve seen him was at that stupid wedding and it seemed he was barely acknowledging your existence. what went wrong between you two? he was the first alpha you ever fell in love with. the only alpha you’ve ever loved. the only alpha you still love. you wanted to be mates with him forever, have pups and a life together. and now he was your stepbrother.
it was torture, living in that house with him. knowing that being in love with your now stepbrother was oh so wrong. god, his scent was everywhere. his scent that has always driven you mad, making you so needy and wanting his affection. you would catch glimpses of him around the house, causing your omega to go crazy inside. he would be in the kitchen drinking a glass of water as you walked in for a snack. he’d be working out in the home gym right when you’d go to use the treadmill. he’d be on the couch, watching a tv show as you passed by the living room to get to the bathroom. every single time you wanted to snuggle up against his body and bury your face in his chest. you wanted him to give you one of his grins reserved only for you and call you his omega again. but he was only ever cordial to you, just acknowledging your presence every time you walked by but never going past that. nothing more than a small smile and a wave when he saw you, making you so upset and frustrated. you wanted him so bad.
as fresh newlyweds, your mom and stepdad decided it was a perfect time to go on a three month long honeymoon in europe and leave you alone with your stepbrother at the house. you begged and pleaded for your mom to just wait a little longer to let you adjust to the new environment before leaving you alone in that house, but she was set on enjoying her time with her new husband. so you were left with lee jeno, your step brother, or in your eyes, your alpha. your mate. the one that got away.
for the first week, you pouted and locked yourself in your room, refusing to leave except to eat or use the bathroom. and you avoided jeno even more than usual. the entire time you’d been living at that house, you and he left each other alone, only communicating when necessary. but your sudden reclusiveness even had him worried, as he knocked on your door many times during your tantrum. but you refused to answer, knowing that if you saw him you would go crazy.
then you had the perfect idea. why don’t you get revenge on your stupid mother for being so selfish and doing this to you? marrying your first love’s dad, making you live under the same roof as your ex and his father that you’ve known for only 2 months, and leaving you alone with said ex for three whole months? and what better way to exact revenge than to get with her new husband’s son? really in your eyes it was a win-win. you would get revenge on your mom for putting you in this position and you would get back with jeno, whom you’re still so in love with. (really it was just a win-win for you but who cares.)
for the next month, you used everything you knew about jeno to slowly drive him crazy over you. you started by wearing the little outfits you knew he loved seeing on you. the first time he saw you wearing a thin tank that showed off your plush tits with his favorite lacy bra, you didn’t miss how his eyes almost bulged out of his head. but jeno was a gentleman and continued treating you like normal. you would wear the skimpiest loungewear—shorts that hugged your ass and barely covered your panties, camis that would squeeze your tits, sometimes even going without a bra to expose your nipples. while jeno seemed like he didn’t notice the sudden change in your attire, you knew him better than that. you noticed every wandering eye, every stare that was just a second too long, every avoided eye contact. sometimes you would see him adjust his pants ever so slightly so you wouldn’t notice his growing erection. but you always did anyways.
you started initiating real conversations with him, asking him about his day and what he’s up to. you got a lot closer and more comfortable with him, and he with you. it seemed you were starting to become almost friends again, despite the weird exes and step siblings thing.
then you moved on to getting physically closer to him. when he was in the kitchen, you’d brush up behind him, making careful sure to press your tits against his back in attempts to scoot past. or he would be watching a movie on the couch and you’d saunter up in your little outfits saying, “ooh, i love this movie. can i watch?” as you plopped yourself next to him. you would complain about being cold and beg to lay under the blankets with him. you would snuggle yourself flush to his body underneath the covers, rubbing your head against his scent gland and scenting yourself. or even at night, sometimes you would knock on his door with fat tears in your eyes saying, “jen, i can’t sleep again. it’s hard trying to adjust living in this new house.” and jeno is so sweet, he’d welcome you with open arms and let you cuddle him in his bed as you fall asleep with a smirk in your face.
“best step brother ever,” you’d sometimes tell him, not missing how his body would tense up at the title.
it seemed like your plan to seduce jeno back into your arms was working, but not at the speed you wanted. by now, you wanted him jumping your bones and fucking you like animals. he should’ve claimed you as his mate once again. but he was set on being a gentleman, always so respectful of your space despite all the signs you were giving him. you saw the lustfilled stares he’d give you when he thought you weren’t looking. you saw how he’d have to adjust his pants to hide his erection when you brush up against his cock or show off your tits and ass.
so you decided to take a risk, in hopes of speeding up the process. you were tired of being so needy for him, knowing he wanted you just as bad. you needed your alpha, who the fuck cares if he was legally your step brother now? he was your mate first.
you knew jeno’s schedule like the back of your hand at this point. so you knew it would be a good 30 minutes before he’d come home from going to the gym with his buddies. taking this fact into consideration, you carefully snuck into jeno’s room. you loved his room so much. everything about it was so him, every little trinket or poster or piece of decor was a piece of lee jeno. his scent drenched the entire room and hit your nose as soon as you walked in, leaving you a melting puddle of mush. you had loved his scent so much, and it was the strongest in his room. you felt your panties dampen with the smell of his sexy intoxicating scent.
you heart was alight with nerves. slowly, you stripped down to just your bra and panties, leaving your shorts and tank on the side of his bed. it was his favorite set, the white lacy bra and matching white lacy panties with a small pink bow resting above your ass. you laid on his bed, turning your head to inhale deeply into his pillow. you let out a soft sigh of satisfaction.
slowly, you reached your hand down into your panties. you were already wet just from smelling his scent. you let one hand grope your breasts as you started teasing your hole with your fingers, going around the rim before slightly pumping a finger in and taking it back out. you imagine your fingers to be his, teasing and playing with your leaking pussy so good.
but your fingers were too small, you needed more. you added another finger and another finger, trying to pump them in and out of your pussy to hit that sweet spot but you couldn’t. your fingers couldn’t hit deep enough, couldn’t fill up your pussy like you needed. you were growing frustrated, tears pricked your eyes.
you didn’t even notice him at the door, watching your every move with pupils blown and lustfilled eyes.
“now what do we have here, baby?” jeno growled out, taking slow steps towards your needy body.
you whined and bucked your hips against your hand, one hand squeezing your tit and the other fingers deep inside your cunt. “jen..” you whimpered.
jeno walked over to the bed and crawled on top of your body, taking your hands and pinning them above your head in one hand and gripping your chin tightly with the other hand.
“you tease me for weeks, knowing how crazy you drive me. knowing i can’t do jack shit because you’re supposed to be my ex-girlfriend, my step sister. and now i catch you in my own bed, shoving fingers into your cunt?” he whispered lowly into your ears. you shuddered. he sounded pissed. and you loved it.
you rubbed your legs together. “oops,” you feigned innocence. at this point, your pussy was sopping and dripping onto the sheets below.
he spat out a “that’s it” and ripped your underwear clean off. he used your ripped panties to bound your wrists above your head. “don’t fucking move, brat,” he warned, as he stripped off his own clothes. “you’re getting it this time.”
your heart was about to beat out of your chest. this is what you’ve been fantasizing about for weeks. when he pulled out his angry cock, you almost drooled. he was so so big, tip red and drooling, veins running up and down his curved shaft. and his balls were so big and heavy. you wondered how he ever managed tk fit inside your little pussy, but he was your mate. of course he was going to fit.
with one deep thrust, he bottomed out in your tight cunt. you screamed in delight, body squirming and thrashing beneath his powerful thrusts. he used his strength to pin your hips down and prevent you from moving away from his thrusts, thick muscles bulging from effort.
“oh fuck,” you moaned out.
he put your legs up on your shoulders and smacked your ass. “fuck this pussy is just as good as i remember.”
he went impossibly harder and faster with every thrust. lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and heavy pants and moans filled the room. you struggled against the tie binding your wrists together but jeno growled and held you down tighter.
“fuck, you’re mine now, baby. never leaving you ever again. this pussy is mine. my girl. my omega. my mate,” he panted against your lips, pressing a deep kiss on your mouth.
your pussy gushed and clenched around his hard cock. “alpha,” you whined.
he used his weight to drive even deeper into you, tip kissing your cervix so sweetly. he nuzzled his head against your neck and starting scenting you. “my omega. mine…”
at this point, your mind was turning numb with pleasure. you were in a complete state of bliss. you’d never want anything more than being with your mate, your alpha like this.
“fuck, gonna cum, baby. gonna cum inside this delicious little pussy. everyone’s gonna know you’re mine when you’re round with my pups, when you have my mark on your neck,” he grunted.
you squirmed and bucked your hips up to meet his thrusts. “yes, please, alpha cum inside me! want your pups so bad. want to be your mate forever,” you whined, nuzzling your face into his wild hair.
he gave a few last deep thrusts before bottoming out completely as he came deep inside your dripping pussy. you gave him a sweet kiss as his cock twitched and throbbed deep inside.
he cradled your head and laid his forehead against yours. “y/n, i never stopped loving you. i’m sorry it took this long for me to tell you this but i want you to be mine. i don’t give a fuck about what anyone else will say, what our parents will say. i want you to be my mate forever,” he whispered, staring deep into your eyes.
it felt like he was laying his soul bare to you. tears pricked your eyes, this was all you had ever wanted. “oh, alpha,” you started. he wiped away the stray tears that fell from your eyes. “i missed you so much. i never stopped loving you. nothing will stop me from loving you. i want to be your mate forever.”
he leaned his head down to prod at the flesh of your neck, grazing your skin slightly with his teeth. you shivered and nodded your head, giving him permission to go further.
he left a deep mark on your neck, biting just hard enough to break skin and seal his bond on you. “baby, you’re mine now. no going back ever again.”
541 notes · View notes
starleska · 1 year
Text
The Nightmare Picnic - Wally Darling x Reader
You're a brand new resident in the wonderful Welcome Home Neighbourhood, and it's the perfect day for the picnic! But your dear friend Wally Darling doesn't seem to be enjoying the fun. What will happen when you decide to try and cheer him up?
content warnings for: eye imagery, scopophobia, hypnosis, impossible physics, Eldritch, and unreality. go in assuming that Wally is a weird little guy, and you’re both terrified of and kind of enjoy that fact! 😉 you can also find this fic on my AO3. i hope you enjoy!! 
The day you learn how to love Wally Darling begins like any other.
It is a balmy day, the air soft and thick and dizzy with butterflies. The sun shines with relentless cheer, and nary a cloud can be seen in the sky. Such a day in the Neighbourhood cannot be spent languishing inside, and all your new neighbours think the same way. So, which lovely activity did they decide upon? Why, a picnic on the grass, of course!
The organisation of the event is efficient and cheerful. In no time, the lush meadow surrounding the outskirts of the Neighbourhood is replete with cosy blankets to lie on, fun games to play, and a plethora of delicious foods contributed by each neighbour. Luckily, you’d baked a whole tray of cupcakes the previous day, with the intent of handing them out when bumping into your neighbours going about their daily business. The cupcakes were a huge success; even the ever-curmudgeonly Frank, who always has something to complain about, graces you with a begrudging, “It’s good, I suppose,” when you hand him a vanilla cupcake topped with a green-icing butterfly.
'I needed this,’ you think as you look around at your new friends. You’ve only been a resident of the Neighbourhood for a few months, but in that time you’ve grown so close to its colourful cast of neighbours as if you’d known each other your whole lives. Right now, they’re dotted across the meadow, smiling and laughing without a care in the world: Howdy’s busy putting together an impossibly long string of daisy chains; Eddie and Sally peer into an origami fortune-teller and giggle at the results; Frank leans over a bush, studying a caterpillar, and Julie and Poppy clap and cheer whilst Barnaby entertains them with a juggling act.
It’s a gorgeous scene. Today, your heart is warm.
A small flash of yellow catches your eye. Of course, it’s an incomplete picture. You take in Wally, who sits cross-legged under the shade of a verdant apple tree. He’s holding an apple between both hands and staring at it intently, as if willing the fruit to communicate with him. It’s an odd expression - you aren’t used to seeing Wally in a state of concentration.
“Hey, Wally!” you call.
Wally looks up at you and smiles. He beckons you over.
“Hello,” says Wally, in his simple way. “I’m happy to see you.”
Oh, what a beautiful voice. Every time you hear Wally speak, it’s like the gentle lapping of his syllables sweep away your worries in a single wave.
As you get closer to Wally, you notice a few strands of his deep blue hair turning flyaway and giving in to the heat, curling away from the otherwise-immaculate pompadour and escaping the death-grip of his hairspray. He’s a little dishevelled elsewhere, too; Wally’s neckerchief is coming loose, and though he’s long since abandoned his cardigan, a stray button on his shirt remains stubbornly popped. You find yourself grinning. Wally takes such pride in his appearance that you never get to see him a little less than perfect.
“Same to you!” you say. “Aren’t you hungry? All the food’s down with the others.”
That unusually pensive look on Wally’s face deepens. He turns his eyes back to his apple. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” You rummage in your backpack and pull out a chocolate bar. “You’ve got to eat, bud. You not feeling so good?”
Wally takes the treat from you and examines it for a moment, as if the bar is a scientific curiosity. “That’s very nice of you…but this doesn’t work for me. You should keep it.”
When Wally hands the bar back, your fingers touch for the briefest moment, and a shiver works its way up your spine.
You don’t know when this… thing you have for Wally Darling began. Despite the countless nights you’ve spent desperately trying to focus on something, anything else, your thoughts inevitably return to the little yellow puppet-man and his catlike smile. There’s a strange magnetism to Wally which befits his profession as a television host; everything from the delicate way he handles his paintbrush, to his ridiculous affinity for apples, leaves you with a little more fondness than before. Wally has so much affection stored in one small body, and when you first met, you wondered how any person could love so much all at once.
But now, when you look at Wally, you understand.
“If you’re sure.” You pop the bar back into your bag and sit on the ground in front of Wally, mirroring his cross-legged pose. “The offer’s still there.”
“It’s tempting,” says Wally, now turning his apple over and over in his hands. “I’d like to know what would happen, if I tried. But Barnaby told me it isn’t worth the risk. I trust him to know.”
You have no idea what he’s talking about, but the look on Wally’s face is so uncharacteristically brooding that you don’t feel it’s polite to pry. Wally’s always been the drifting sort: those large, dewy eyes of his are perpetually lidded, and always seem to be gazing at something no one else can see. But Wally’s inattentiveness is usually matched with an infectious, excited kind of energy, bursting with nonsense and love.
Today, he almost looks sad. The idea makes you feel sick.
It occurs to you that this may be a personal issue, and Wally doesn’t know you well enough to discuss it. So you ask, “Do you want me to look away?”
Wally’s fingers still. To your surprise, the apple actually drops from his hands and rolls into the grass. You’ve never seen Wally mistreat an apple before - there must be something seriously wrong.
“Actually,” says Wally, now looking at you properly, “I’d like to try something.”
He gestures for you to shuffle closer. When you do, Wally reaches forward and takes hold of your forearms. You make a surprised noise, but Wally squeezes you, and fixes you with a smile full of reassurance and warmth. A rush of heat leaps into your cheeks, and you’re suddenly reminded of an interaction you had with another neighbour not too long ago.
It was only a week after you arrived in the Neighbourhood, and you were finally moving the last of your belongings into your home. All of your new neighbours had graciously donated their time to help you in some fashion, and you were overcome with gratitude. On that final day you were more than capable of doing the rest of the moving yourself, but your closest neighbour - the excitable Julie Joyful - volunteered to help with the last handful of delicate items. At first, you were unsure - Julie is a lovely girl and incredibly fun to be around, but so spirited that you feared for the safety of your items. But a good twenty minutes of allowing her to help with the least fragile of your boxes allayed all your fears: Julie moves with the grace of a ballerina, and the two of you soon had all your boxes stacked in your living room.
Burnt orange sunlight poured through the window, streaming soon-to-be-dusk and casting the wooden floorboards with a vibrant glow. You take a moment from the heavy lifting to look out the window. Across the lawn, you can make out a couple of your neighbours engaging in some game. Upon closer inspection, you realise it’s Wally and Barnaby, the former laughing and tossing a series of colourful balls for Barnaby to catch.
You watched as Wally swung his arm and threw a few of the balls a surprising distance, letting the large, spotted dog race off to retrieve them. Wally put his hands on his hips, as if exhausted by the exertion. He turned - and locked eyes with you. Wally’s face broke out into a huge grin, and he gave you a hearty wave. Feeling horribly embarrassed, you waved back, trying to ignore the painful squeezing of your heart. You’ve only known Wally a week, and yet you’re utterly charmed by everything he does.
A tug on your arm brought you back to the present: it’s Julie. She bats her long eyelashes at you, a knowing smile on her face.
“You like hiiiiim, ” she teased, her voice all sing-song.
“What?!”
You grabbed Julie by the shoulders and yanked her away from the window, as if Wally could somehow hear you both through sight. “No! I don’t know where you got an idea like that-”
“It’s okay, sweetie. You don’t need to pretend.”
Your face felt like it was on fire. You’d always been the careful type, ensuring your innermost thoughts and feelings stayed stuffed as far down as possible to keep you safe. But the Neighbourhood bred a kind of emotional honesty with which you were totally unfamiliar. Everyone is so exuberant, always wearing their hearts on their sleeves - some of them even literally, as plenty of your new neighbours wore outfits stitched with cute little hearts! Keeping a secret in the Neighbourhood felt wrong…even a secret crush on the silly little artist whose smile lit up your insides.
So, you give in. “How did you know?”
Julie giggles. She fishes in the pocket of her dress, and pulls out a daisy.
“I know a lot about flowers,” she explained, as she twirled the stem between her fingers. “What kinds grow in different meadows. How much sun and water and love they need to grow. They show it in their petals, and how they lean. People are a lot like that too.
“When you arrived, you looked…wilted. Like you’d been kept out of the sun for too long. I could see it, but didn’t want to ask why. I think everyone else could, too…and we all wanted to help a new friend who lost their colour.”
“You’ve all been so lovely to me,” you said, by way of thanks.
Julie nodded. “Sure we have! And it worked, for a little bit. But for a flower at the end of its days, even fresh soil, plenty of sun and lots of water can only do so much. Your petals seemed faded for good. And that’s okay. I just wanted you to be happy - whatever that looks like for you.”
You swallowed. “You see a lot, for a gardener.”
Julie smiled. “When you care for flowers, you learn to listen to their needs. Sometimes, you’ll have a flower who has everything in the world…but they’re still curling up, and shying away from the light.”
She pressed the daisy into your palm.
“Wally brings the colour back to your petals,��� said Julie. “Do yourself a favour. Don’t hide from your sun.”
Another squeeze from Wally brings you out of your recollection. You suck in a deep breath, facing this new reality of Wally holding you, his fingers pleasantly warm and fuzzy.
“Close your eyes,” says Wally gently.
For anyone else, you would’ve paused - but for Wally, you comply immediately.
Slowly, you feel Wally’s hands slide down your arms to your hands. He threads his fingers through yours and holds them firm, so tight that you start to feel your blood thrumming from the pressure. Your hearing, sensitive now your sight is compromised, picks up the distant chatter of your neighbours, as well as the friendly sounds of nature at play. Your skin tingles, sweat-slicked from the heat and the nerves.
“I have a question,” says Wally, his voice wonderfully calm and soft.
“Yes?”
“Why do you eat?”
“Uh…” What kind of question was that? Wally is admittedly prone to posing questions that only a truly strange mind would think up, but this one is so baffling, you’re thrown entirely for a loop. “...So I don’t die, I guess?”
“Ha ha ha ha!” Wally’s unique, halting laugh almost startles you into opening your eyes. “You’re so funny. Okay. Do you know why I eat?”
This time, it takes you a little longer to answer. A simple enough question, surely with the exact same answer? But Wally’s voice has taken on a teasing, knowing edge - a sound you recognise from when he’s setting up a punchline. The question must be a trick. So you rack your brains, trying to think of all the times you’d seen Wally eat: where he was, what he was eating.
With your eyes still closed, you reach a strange realisation.
“I…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat.”
A soft chuckle from Wally. “That’s right. You haven’t.”
Wally’s grip on your hand tightens. Strangely, a weak, static noise buzzes to life, seemingly from inside your skull. You shift, trying to locate the source, but Wally holds you in place. As the noise grows, the sounds of your friends fizzle out and die. It’s as if you’ve been placed on an invisible train and are moving steadily down the track, away from all the familiar sounds of your Neighbourhood - but you can’t feel the rumbling of the track, or hear the whistle of the wind.
“But…maybe you should.”
With Wally’s words the temperature noticeably drops, and gooseflesh breaks out on your arms. You shudder, wanting to open your eyes but finding that you can’t: your eyelids feel impossibly heavy. You’re stuck in place, pinioned to the grass (which you can no longer feel) as that buzzing sound inches up by the decibel, a nasty, steady crawl which leaves your brain awash in a sea of noise.
“Open your eyes.”
You do so.
And you can’t make sense of what you see.
The sky is gone. The tree is gone. The meadow is gone. Every detail from the Neighbourhood’s comforting landscape has evaporated, leaving nothing behind but a grayscale emptiness which fuzzes in and out like television static. Even the awful buzzing sound abruptly falls away, leaving your ears with nothing but the distant sound of an unseen tide.
Wally still sits in front of you, his hands grasping yours, but it’s like he’s sitting on nothing at all: somehow supported by a cushion of emptiness. It’s like the texture of the world has fallen out of reality.
Seized by vertigo, you tighten your grip on Wally’s hands. “What’s happening?!”
“Don’t worry,” says Wally. “You’re safe.”
“There’s nothing here,” you whisper. “Where is everyone?”
“Back Home,” says Wally. “They can’t see us right now. They’re not ready.” His smile turns coy. “But I think you are. Watch this.”
Wally reaches over and rustles in your backpack. Your heart crawls into your mouth; although you can see Wally’s hands in front of you, you can somehow still feel his hands holding both of yours, keeping you locked in place. You try to look down and make sense of this impossibility, but your eyes are stuck, glued to Wally’s face. You can only watch, terrified, as he takes out your chocolate bar and locks in his gaze.
Without warning, Wally’s eyes flare open, heavy lids drawing back and revealing the full size of his large, black pupils. Wally’s stare travels steadily down the chocolate bar, a focused intensity searing from his eyes like a laser. Somehow as he stares, bite marks are chunked out of the chocolate, as if some great invisible person is taking enormous chomps out of both the bar and wrapper. In seconds, the chocolate is gone.
Panic grips your chest, and you start to hyperventilate. The world tilts, and you’re scared you might actually puke. Wally blinks, his eyelids half-blanketing those pupils once more, and he looks at you with concern. When his eyes connect, your chest convulses with panic: a type of terror you’ve never experienced before threatening to claw its way out of your body and devour you whole.
“What happened?!”
“Oh, don’t be scared,” says Wally, his voice floating and cloudlike. “This is just how I eat.”
“How - did you - do - that?” you gasp.
“I’m not sure. I’ve always eaten this way.” Wally inclines his head in sympathy. “I am sorry if I’ve made you afraid. I usually only eat when others are blinking. That way, I don’t interrupt them. I don’t want to be rude."
You suck in a huge gulp of breath. “Wally, this is…impossible,” you manage. “I want to leave - I want to go Home-”
“You can’t.”
Wally shakes his head mildly from side to side, but his eyes seem to stay still, locked into the centre of his face. No matter how much you strain to move, those incredible eyes remain right in front of you, always at the same distance, never looking away - and never blinking. In your peripheral vision, you see Wally’s hand reach up towards your face. He cups your cheek. The sensation of feeling three arms belonging to a two-armed person on your body sends a rush of nausea through your throat. Wally strokes your skin with his thumb.
“You understand me so well,” says Wally. “You see me, don’t you?”
“I don’t understand.” Another wave of dizziness rises up, pushing behind your eyeballs. The sensation is the same as the pressure of allergies arising on a high pollen day - yet you can no longer smell the flowers of the meadow. You try again in vain to rip your gaze away from Wally’s, but you can’t - and you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.
Wally’s thumb stops, resting in the dip of your cheek. “I love my friends, but they only see one part of me. The part they want to see. But you…”
His thumb trails to the edge of your lip.
“...you see all of me.”
You’re split in two. Your brain, the logical part of your thinking, is screaming at you to do anything - to move, to scream, to run as fast as you can into the nightmare emptiness and beg for help. But the other part of you - your traitorous, emotional heart - douses the runaway fire of your fear with the intoxication of Wally’s touch. You find yourself leaning into his hand, savouring how perfectly his cheek cups your palm, and the slight fuzz of his thumb teasing your lip.
“I do,” you whisper. Suddenly, your body relaxes, and you slump forward. You feel very tired. The panic which gripped your body only moments ago is now quashed, flattened into a fine layer of dust by the weight of Wally’s impossibly black eyes. Now your nervous system is nothing but the aftermath: the feeling of fight-or-flight chemicals settling into your bloodstream, leaving you weak and sluggish.
Now, Wally’s eyes are not a source of terror. They’re a blanket you wish to curl up beneath, and never wake up.
“I think you’re special, you know,” says Wally. “The way I feel when I’m around you is…different, than with the others. You’re the absolute most.”
Wally’s words settle over your brain like a dream. You watch, your eyes heavy and drained, as Wally brings his hands up to his chest and forms the shape of his heart with his fingers. You’re no longer scared of the physical contradictions of Wally holding your hands whilst signing his affection. It seems in this reality, Wally can have as many hands as he wants.
This is why Wally’s next question confuses you so:
“Do you think if our friends saw me like this…they’d run away?”
Wally’s words are becoming harder to process. The world around him tunnels. Even though you’re sure that you’re fixed in place, sitting on some immovable, textureless cushion, Wally’s eyes grow larger, encroaching evermore on your limiting field of vision. The longer you look, the more of Wally’s scleras are swallowed by his expanding pupils. Those blown, void-black pools seem to come with their own gravity, and you’re slipping into their inconceivable pull, ready to be strewn and stretched and ripped apart by their physics.
“Oh, Wally,” you try to say, but your tongue slackens, and his name comes out as, ‘Waaalllllyyyy.’ “We love you so much. You can’t make us run away.”
Wally smiles, and you think it’s the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.
“How I wish that were true.”
Suddenly, Wally’s eyes shift just the slightest bit to the left. The effect is like unsealing a pressure chamber. For a moment you are released from his eyes, and your brain and body scramble as one, free-falling and bracing to break against the ground with a hypnic jerk. However, Wally realises his mistake and grabs you by the shoulder - another impossible arm - and forces you to look back into his eyes.
“Shh. Don’t strain yourself. The more you resist, the worse you’ll feel.”
You blink rapidly, trying to reorient yourself in space. Wally’s touch grounds you again, holding you steady in this non-existent space. You try to reply, but your mouth now hangs open, jaw useless. Saliva collects in a pool under your tongue, but Wally still keeps his thumb at the edge of your lip, now rubbing soothing circles against your flesh.
“We don’t have much time,” says Wally. “But…thank you for this. You can’t know how much I appreciate you.”
The warm flush of his approval works its way through your unresponsive body. Your muscles contract, dopamine and serotonin coating your insides and bringing your fingers - still interlocked with Wally’s - into a sudden contraction. You force your mouth into a speech-ready shape, fuelled by his words and his touch and the sheer paradox of his being, and you try so desperately to say, ‘Wally, I love you- ’
But then he looks away.
The spell is broken. Like flipping to another television channel, the world around you snaps back into place in one vivid bound. All the colour, sounds and scents of the Neighbourhood re-enter your senses in one huge burst, and the force of it almost knocks you over. Wally - who is still holding your hands, just like before - keeps you steady, crushing your hands together like he would rather die than let go.
“Hey, you two!”
Looking away from Wally feels like ripping off a plaster. Your eyes alight on Julie trotting up the meadow’s slight incline, clutching a hotdog in one hand and a cooler in the other.
“Eddie wanted me to tell you we’re packing up,” Julie chirps. “Looks like a thunderstorm is coming.” She looks down at your hands, still intertwined with Wally’s, and grins. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Just some good old-fashioned fun,” says Wally, his voice impassive and gentle.
The ability for words has deserted you. You stare back at Wally, searching desperately for something supernatural in the darks of his eyes. Wally looks normal - as normal as a small, yellow puppet can - and his eyes are back to their half-lidded, sleepy-looking state. It takes a couple of nudges with his foot for Wally to bring you back to earth.
Wally lets go of your hands, and you can feel the blood pumping in the spaces between your fingers. You try standing up, but your legs are weak and wobbly, as if you’d just run a marathon while sitting in one spot. They would’ve collapsed beneath you, but Wally catches you before you slip. He hauls you up and loops his arm around yours.
“Just hungry,” Wally says with a smile. “Let’s get you Home."
Julie leads the way down the small embankment, with Wally supporting your timid, uneasy steps. You soon reach your neighbours, now busying themselves in tidying up the remnants of your picnic. Upon seeing you, they all crowd around, asking if you’re okay. Barnaby remarks that you look terribly pale, and Sally offers to bring you a drink. However, Wally shoos them off, admonishing them in a familial sort of way. He reassures them that you’ve just had a small fainting spell, and need to get some rest.
Now free of the others, Julie, Wally and yourself make the way home - and you’re thankful it’s only a short distance. When you finally reach your porch you want to fall over onto the steps, but Wally keeps you held upright: a firm, reassuring presence at your side.
“You need to tell us if you get this again, okay?” says Julie, looking at you with worry in her eyes.
“Okay,” you say, giving a weak nod.
“Thank you. Feel better soon, okay?”
Julie gives you and Wally a final glance over. Having determined you’ll be more than fine in Wally’s care, she bids her goodbyes and skips off to help the rest of your neighbours.
“Ha ha ha,” laughs Wally. “Julie is a good friend. I’m lucky to have her in my life.”
You look sideways at Wally. He catches your eye, and dips his head in a nod. “I feel the same way about you,” he says.
The question is implied in his voice - a little waver at the edge of his words.
“Wally…I don’t really understand what happened today,” you say. “But…I know it doesn’t change how much I like you."
The beam that dawns on Wally’s face is so wide, it almost cracks in two. “Thank you,” he whispers.
You can’t help but return the grin. “Thank you for being vulnerable with me.”
Wally lets go of your arm, and turns to face you properly. He reaches up one hand, and then hesitates, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours as if pondering a question.
Finally, Wally leans in and gives you a small, gentle kiss on the cheek. You inhale sharply, your arms hanging limply by your side and your fingers curling into questioning shapes. His mouth is plush and downy, and the impression of his lips sends a toasty-sweet feeling rocketing through your body.
When Wally pulls back, his yellow skin is dusted pink about his cheeks.
“Always know,” he says softly, “that I love you very much.”
Then, he’s leaving. You watch in stunned silence as Wally’s back retreats into the distance, making his way to join the throng of your neighbours. A slight rumble in the distance makes you look up: a cluster of thunderclouds gather at the edge of the Neighbourhood, fat with the promise of rain.
You touch your lips gently, and smile. Then, you retreat inside the safety of your home…with the warm memory of Wally’s kiss playing in your mind, and static still buzzing in your fingers.
3K notes · View notes
Tethered.
The lines of friendship blur when you’re this close. Also known as - each of the times you’ve kissed Benny, Frankie, Santiago and Will.
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Pairing - Benny Miller, Frankie Morales, Santiago Garcia, Will Miller x female reader
Age Rating - 18+
Warnings - Cursing, sexual content, mentions of sobriety
Word Count - 5523
Author's Note - by popular demand!! thank you to everyone who voted in the poll, it was so helpful!! don't worry, there is still a stewy hosseini fic coming very soon. i love writing for the triple frontier boys, so if anyone has any requests or particular thoughts, please send them my way. i'm also a total will girly, if you couldn't tell. as always, lots of love <3
my other triple frontier fics - Time, Tranquility and Home Is Where The Heart Is.
Masterlist. Requests.
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Will’s strong hand rubs steady circles into your thigh under the table as you all hunch over laughing.
Benny’s telling the story of his bad date from the night before. The combination of his masterful storytelling and the whiskey that seems to be refilling itself is making you giddy, all of you high on the joy of being with your best friends. There’s no feeling quite like it, laughing until you cry.
“Wait, that doesn’t explain why she slapped you!” Santiago exclaims from opposite you, clapping Benny on the back.
“She slapped me because, it turns out, I’d kissed her best friend a few months ago. She called me a dog and everything,” he laughs, tears escaping from his eyes. “She had a strong hand!”
“Did you know who she was when you saw her?” Frankie asks, genuinely intrigued.
“I realised as soon as I sat down. I didn’t know it’d be a problem! Man, fuck blind dates,” Ben chuckles.
“Am I crazy for not seeing the issue here?” Santiago asks, looking around the table.
“I didn’t see it either, apparently. It’s not like me and Lucy ever went anywhere. It was just a kiss.” Benny’s face is scrunched up in confusion. It makes you want to smooth your thumb over the crease between his brows.
“She was giving me the look, I swear,” he continues. “So I went in for the kiss, and she hit me.”
The boys are all laughing again, and as guilty as you feel, you can’t help but join them. Benny has such an animated, expressive face, that even the most boring of stories are entertaining when being told by him. It’s a gift. He just has a way with people.
“What do you think, hermosa?” Santiago asks, looking at you pointedly. “Would you kiss someone your best friend has kissed?”
“I don’t know,” you reply carefully. “Depends on the situation, I guess. I’d try not to, I think.”
Will’s looking at you with amusement in his eyes, slight smirk on his face. It’s clear that no one is putting the pieces together.
“Would you, Santi?” you question, lips quirking up at the corners.
“Probably not. I’d avoid it, if possible,” he replies.
The whiskey is making you braver than usual, a warm buzz running through your veins. Without thinking, you laugh,
“Too late.”
Everyone looks at you, brows raised in confusion. Will’s grinning now, chuckling to himself quietly. You’re giggling at their faces, their naivety making you smile.
You watch as Frankie looks slowly around the table, and then back at you. Shaking his head, he catches your eyes and snickers.
“Minx,” he mutters, still smiling.
“Am I missing something here?” Benny asks, surveying the silent communication happening between you, Frankie and Will.
You sigh sarcastically and throw your drink back, downing it in one go. Well, we’re doing this, you think.
“I’ve kissed every single person at this table,” you start. “Which means you’ve all kissed the same girl your best friend has kissed.”
Santiago and Benny go silent for a moment, processing this new information. Will and Frankie are still smiling, already a step ahead.
“Wait, what?” Santiago finally speaks. “You have?”
“Oh no. Pope thought he was special,” Frankie laughs, head thrown back.
“Stop it, Francisco! You are special, Santi. It just so happens that they are too.”
You point generally at the other boys, all of them with their eyes fixed on you. You can see that Benny is still figuring things out, the alcohol making his brain work slower than usual.
“I’ve known you guys for years. We’ve been through a lot together. And you’re like, the four most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen! It was bound to happen sooner or later,” you justify.
Everyone’s laughing now, the final piece finally being put into the jigsaw. You can tell they’re all thinking back to their kisses – you are too.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Benny had been the first one to kiss you.
It happened right at the beginning of his boxing career. He’d started working out religiously, meal planning, prepping for his first big fight. He set strict rules for himself – no alcohol, no women, no sex. You were glad he’d found an output for his energy, glad he was taking something so seriously – even if the idea of him getting hurt did terrify you.
The four of you had gone to support him, eager to see him win after months of watching him train and prepare. He’d really committed to the process, which was a surprise – Benny was a notorious ladies man. He loved to relax with a beer. But he’d never broken his self-made rules, not once. No matter the outcome of the fight, you were insanely proud of him. All of you were.
The atmosphere in the warehouse was electric. It was a big venue, with hundreds of people gathering to spectate. You hadn’t realised this was such a popular event. Adrenaline buzzed through the air, making you antsy with anticipation. You and the boys had front row seats by the ring, allowing you the perfect view, the ideal place to support Ben.
“I’m gonna go get us some beers,” Santiago yells over the noise.
“I’ll come help you,” you shout back, linking your hand into his so you don’t get separated.
You make your way out of the double doors and down the hallway in attempt to find the bar. On the journey, you spot a sign that points to the locker rooms.
“You order, I’ll be right back,” you tell Santiago, before following the directions.
You push open the door and step into the locker room. Benny is sat on the bench, headphones blasting music so loud you can hear it from 10 feet away. You make your way over, and touch him on the shoulder gently. He doesn’t startle.
“I don’t want to disturb you, Ben. Just wanted to say good luck,” you say quietly.
He grabs your wrist and pulls you to sit next to him.
“You could never disturb me, honey. You’re my good luck charm,” he winks, and the cheekiness of it warms your chest.
He pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you, breathing in the scent of your strawberry shampoo. You inhale with him, and soak up the heat that’s seeping into your skin.
“It doesn’t matter what happens out there,” you tell him. “I’ll love you no matter what.”
You press a kiss to his cheek, and throw a beaming smile at him before leaving. You find Santi at the bar, and help him carry the beers back to the boys.
You’ve never seen this side of Benny. He’s throwing and dodging punches like it’s second nature. The man moves like ocean waves, fluid and constant, never once caught off guard. There’s a lot to be said about the pastime of men fighting each other, but honestly, Ben has found his calling.
Electricity crackles through the air as Benny swings his last punch. His opponent falls to the mat as you rise from your seats. All of you instantly begin screaming, roars of celebration filling the space. Ben throws his fist in the air, signalling his victory. It’s rare, this feeling. The five of you don’t win very often. This needs to be savoured.
Eventually, the cheering dies down, and Benny leaves the ring to go and get changed. The boys are all ecstatic, chattering with pride in their voices about their brother, their teammate, their best friend.
“Be right back,” you tell them, moving to slip out of the doors and down the hallway.
You strut into the locker room, eyes scanning the space for the man you’re looking for. You find him stood, unwrapping his hands. Before you know it, you’re running into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he spins you. His bare chest is dripping with sweat. He’s covering you in it, but you couldn’t care less. You’re both laughing, joy and love filling the air.
“I’m so proud of you,” you breathe into his neck, still in his arms. Your feet finally find the floor, and you lean back slightly to stare up at him.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, pretty girl,” he beams at you.
You can feel the energy coursing through his veins. He’s thrumming with it, buzzing with adrenaline – it feels like he’s going to burst. He’s practically vibrating.
Before you can even register what’s happening, Benny pulls you back to him, smashing his lips onto yours. He skims his hands down your back to grab at the backs of your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly. You wrap your legs around his waist and press yourself into him.
The kiss is needy, desperate, pulsing - all teeth and tongue. Benny walks you backwards to slam you against the lockers, using the pressure of his body to lean forward into you. Your hands thread through his hair, pulling forcefully. He groans, deep and guttural, and it’s one of the most gorgeous sounds you’ve ever heard.
He’s grabbing at your ass as he dips his head down to leave open mouthed kisses on your neck, biting at the column of your throat. Your dress is practically around your waist, and you roll your hips forward, searching for friction. It’s your turn to groan now.
“Fuck, honey,” he murmurs. “Prettiest sound I’ve ever heard.”
He holds you up with one arm, and moves the other hand to twist into the waistband of your underwear. He’s pulling them down when someone bangs on the door, startling you both.
“Benny! Champion! Get out here, man, or we’re coming in!”
It’s Will’s voice, that deep tone instantly recognisable.
You pull your lips from Benny’s, your head dropping back against the locker with a clang.
“Shit,” he chuckles, gently pressing a kiss to your sternum.
“Shit,” you repeat, giggling gently.
Benny puts you down carefully, smoothing down your dress with those big hands of his. He fixes your hair next, sweetly moving it out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. He runs his thumb under your bottom lip, wiping where your lipstick has smudged.
“Do we look like we just made out?” you ask him, amusement evident in your tone.
“You do. I look like I just won a fight.”
He smiles at you, and you can’t help but smile back. God, this man. One minute he’s got you whining against the lockers, and the next he’s got you giggling like a schoolgirl.
“Come on,” you urge. “They’re gonna come busting in here any second.”
Right on cue, the door swings open, three men barrelling inside. They all jump on Benny, ruffling his hair and pulling him into a headlock affectionately. You watch from a short distance away, smile still etched on your face. You love them so much you’re worried your heart is going to burst out of your chest.
You look at Will, and find him smirking at you. Always a step ahead. Frankie grabs your wrist and pulls you into their celebrations. You’re being thrown around like you’re in some sort of whirlpool, dizzy with the joy of being with your best friends. You wouldn’t change a thing, even if you are a little lightheaded.
You catch eyes with Benny, and he winks. You know that the events of tonight aren’t going to change anything between the two of you. Your friendship is so solid, you’re convinced it can withstand anything. The five of you are connected, somehow. This unexplainable, invisible tether, binding you wherever you go. The kind of friendship that they write books about.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Frankie was the next person to kiss you.
Or maybe you kissed him. You’re still not sure.
The five of you were at a bar downtown, drinking and laughing. The boys were a few beers deep, muscles relaxing and minds quietening.
But not Frankie.
When he’d made the decision to get sober, he’d included everything. He wasn’t a man who believed in partially sober, or ‘California sober’. If he was going to commit, he was going to commit fully. Alcohol included.
Usually, it didn’t bother him. He could go to bars with his friends, happily crack open beers for them when they watched a football game, make a mean margarita when they hung out at his pool in the summer. But that night, he was on edge. He didn’t know why, couldn’t pinpoint any reason specifically, but he was on overdrive. His mind wouldn’t slow down - thoughts barrelling into him at a hundred miles an hour. He was debating going home to bed, before realising that he was designated driver. So, he’d sat back in his seat, taken a deep breath, and tried to pretend like he wasn’t about to combust.
You’d noticed. Of course you had. You, with your observant eyes, your careful gaze, your genuine smile. You’d noticed.
Will had too. He was keeping an eye on Frankie from across the booth, but he wasn’t worried. He knew you were watching him like a hawk. That reassured Will to no end.
“Oh yeah? Come on then, old man, put your money where your mouth is!” Benny’s yelling at Santiago, grabbing him by the bicep, up and out of his chair. You watch as he drags him over to the pool table, determined to prove himself.
No matter where you were, or what you were doing, somehow, Benny and Santiago always managed to turn it into a competition. You, Will and Frankie were always happy to watch – you usually ended up playing referee, only interfering when someone cheated or got too rowdy.
The two of them began setting up a game, leaving you at the booth with the other two.
“I’m gonna get some air,” Frankie says suddenly, standing up and making his way out of the door.
Will gives you a look of concern.
“I got it. Just make sure those two idiots don’t kill each other with pool cues, please,” you joke.
Will chuckles and nods, squeezing your waist as you move past him to follow Frankie.
Outside, you find him around the side of the bar, leaning against the brick wall. He’s breathing heavily, clearly trying to get a handle on things. You watch as he takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his hair. He slides down the wall, sitting on the cool ground, legs bent in front of him.
You walk over and sit down next to him, ignoring the feeling of the cold concrete underneath your bare legs. You lean into him slightly, placing your head on his shoulder. He breathes you in, and you feel some of the tension melt from his muscles.
Eventually, you speak.
“You okay?”
He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer.
“Yeah, cariño, I’m okay,” he murmurs. “I’m usually fine in bars, it doesn’t bother me. Guess I’m just anxious tonight.”
You hum in understanding, before realising something.
“What’s today’s date?”
He looks at you with puzzlement written all over his face, but answers you anyway.
“March 16th.”
“Happy one year of sobriety, Francisco.”
You can see it all clicking into place in his head. The reason he’s been on pins all day, the reason he’s been so wound up tonight, unable to settle. You figured it out before he could. Clever girl.
“And I’m celebrating it in a bar, apparently. How appropriate,” he laughs. It’s a real, hearty, genuine laugh. You love when he laughs like this – so hard that he starts wheezing. It’s so endearing, it makes you want to cry.
“I can’t believe I forgot. A year ago, it was like, the biggest milestone ever. And I forgot.”
You can tell he’s almost disappointed with himself. But you’re not. No, quite the opposite, actually.
“You see how great that is though, right?” you ask him. “You’re so busy living your life now, working, being the best dad ever, that you didn’t even have to think about it. It’s not a bad thing that you forgot about it, Frankie.”
He pulls you closer, both arms wrapped around you, your head pressed into the crook of his neck.
“How do you do it, hermosa?”
“Do what?”
“Always know exactly what to say.”
“Years of knowing you, probably. Years of loving you,” you answer.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, but you hear him clear as day.
“No, I don’t deserve you. I’m so proud of you, Francisco.”
He pulls away from you to look at you earnestly. He smiles at you, and you grin back at him. If love could lift you up, you’d be floating, both of you levitating with it.
Frankie leans in closer to you, and you mirror the movement. You’re not sure who kisses who, but suddenly his lips are on yours, his hands moving to cradle your face. It’s careful, and it’s gentle, and it’s so full of gratitude and history that it takes everything in you not to break out into a grin. One of his hands moves through your hair as the other one caresses your cheek. You can’t remember the last time you were kissed so tenderly. Neither can he.
Unbeknownst to you, Will has come out to check on you both. He stops in his tracks when he sees the two of you wrapped up in each other. His heart swells in his chest, and he can’t help but smile. He knows that this won’t change anything between you and Frankie. It’s just the comfort he needed – you both needed. He makes his way back inside quietly, grateful for the both of you and the way you look after each other.
Eventually, you both pull apart. Frankie rests his forehead on yours, and takes the first full breath he’s taken all day. His shoulders relax, his jaw unclenches. He’s okay, thanks to you.
“Thank you, cielito,” he murmurs.
“For what?”
“Everything. Knowing me better than I know myself. Knowing all of us better than we know ourselves.”
“Someone’s gotta keep you all alive,” you grin, and he chuckles, the vibration of it settling into your bones, warming you up from the inside out.
He pulls you back against his side, wrapping his arms around you. You both sit against the red brick, cold ground underneath you, for what feels like hours.
“There they are!” Santiago yells when he spots you both.
“Mom, Dad, can we go home?” Benny jokes, clearly down one drink too many.
“Of course we can, baby,” you smile, pulling Frankie to his feet with you.
You all clamber into Frankie’s truck – you riding shotgun, the other boys crammed in the back. You reach for your drivers hand, and interlace your fingers, resting your palms in your lap. You hold onto him all the way home, and can’t help but notice how much lighter he seems.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Santiago kissed you next.
The five of you were having a pool day at Frankie’s, trying to cool down in the Texan summer heat. It was rare, for all of you to have the same day off, so you planned to make the most of it.
The four boys were already in the backyard when you arrived. Letting yourself in, you made your way through the house, briefly stopping in the kitchen to put your popsicles in the freezer. You’d purposely picked the strawberry ones, knowing they were Frankie’s daughters favourite. She was at her mom’s house for the week, but you knew she’d be back at the weekend.
“Hey, honey!” Benny yells when he spots you at the back door.
All of them turn to look at you, and you’re slightly taken aback by all the golden skin on display. Benny is wearing swim shorts with an inseam that can’t be any more than 5 inches, strong thighs just begging to be bitten. Will’s navy shorts compliment his blond hair beautifully, and Santiago’s green ones bring out the dark brown of his eyes. Frankie still has his shirt on, but it hugs his biceps just right. Damn, you think. I might just have the most attractive best friends in the world.
They’re all grinning at you as you survey each of them. You know they don’t mind being ogled just a little.
“Eyes up here, princess,” Santiago teases, no seriousness whatsoever in his voice. You scoff and throw your head back in a laugh, all of them simultaneously joining you in your amusement.
You put down your bag and kick off your shoes, before grabbing the hem of your dress.
“Give us a show, Miss Supermodel,” Benny whistles, winking playfully.
You peel your dress over your head slowly, wiggling your hips as you go. You’re left in a little black bikini that admittedly doesn’t leave much to the imagination. You don’t mind. You’re safe here.
They’re all whistling and cheering, make you laugh. You never feel more appreciated than when you’re with these boys. It’s everything. They’re everything.
“It’s like Sports Illustrated in real life,” Frankie grins, bumping your shoulder with his.
“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” Will says quietly when you catch his gaze. You roll your eyes playfully, but smile at him genuinely, silently thanking him.
Your eyes flicker to Santiago. He has a look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. It’s more than his usual appreciation. It’s hungry, hot, burning. It makes your skin prickle, the hairs on your neck standing up. You have to get away from his stare before you jump his bones right in Frankie’s backyard.
“Want me to make you a margarita?” Frankie asks, innocently breaking through the moment.
“Yes, please. That sounds amazing.”
He smiles at you before retreating to the kitchen, Benny following him in search of beer.
The heat doesn’t ease up all day. It’s sweltering, covering you all in a sheen of sweat that can’t seem to be wiped away.
Santiago’s gaze doesn’t help your warmth. Every time you look over, he’s surveying you carefully, eyes raking over your body in a way that makes your breathing quicken. There’s always been chemistry between you, sure. You have chemistry with all of the boys. But it’s never been like this with Santiago. Yes, you flirt with each other – it’s in both of your natures. But this is different. This is real.
You spend all day lounging around. Frankie keeps you topped up with margaritas as you make trips in and out of the pool, messing around with the boys. Benny hoists you up onto his shoulders in the water, throwing you up into the air as high as he can and laughing when you splash back down. You and Will throw a ball back and forth, doubling over when he overshoots and hits Frankie, who’s soaking up the sun in a lawn chair. In the late afternoon, Frankie fires up the grill, preparing to barbeque for dinner.
“Pope, you gonna help me?” he shouts from the deck.
Santiago looks at you, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, before joining him. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. There’s anticipation bubbling at the pit of your stomach, butterflies swirling. Warmth has settled in your core, and Santi’s heated glances are only fuelling the fire.
The sun finally gives you some respite in the early evening. You all settle on the grass, drinks in hand, laughing about nothing and everything. Benny’s telling you about his next fight, describing his opponent in hilarious detail. You look down, and realise your glass is empty.
“I’m gonna get a refill. Anyone want anything?” you ask, smiling as you watch Benny jokingly pretend to box his brother.
“Can you grab me a beer, princesa?” Santiago asks, pointed gaze trained on you.
You nod and make your way inside, praying that it’s cooler in the kitchen. The sun might have gone in, but the warmth in your core hasn’t left.
You reach into the fridge for the jug of margaritas that Frankie made earlier. You’re rising onto your tiptoes to fetch a new glass from the top of the cabinet when you feel a presence against your back. Santiago grabs one from the shelf and places it on the counter in front of you, leaning forward as he does it. His lips are brushing the shell of your ear, and you shudder out a breath.
“So you’re feeling it too, mi amor?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” you breathe. You’re worried you might combust if he keeps speaking to you in that deep, low, raspy tone of his.
“Don’t know what’s gotten into me. Can’t keep my eyes off you,” he whispers. He feels a shiver wrack through your body and chuckles.
You turn around to face him, and he steps forward, caging you in against the counter, arms on either side of you. You can’t go anywhere. You don’t want to.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he practically purrs.
He runs his thumb across your bottom lip, testing the waters. You catch it with your teeth and pull it into your mouth, biting down gently before sucking, not once breaking eye contact. He groans and tilts his head back, exposing his throat to you. You tangle a hand in the hair at the nape of his neck, and give him a look that says I dare you.
Santiago surges forward to capture your lips with his. It’s desperate and needy - a perfect representation of both of your states all day. He slips a strong thigh between your legs and pushes upward, making you whine. You’re pressing yourself into him, trying to get as close as possible. His hands are everywhere all at once – your hips, your hair, your back, your ass. He wants to feel all of you, and can’t decide where to start.
You feel drunk off of him as he kisses you. His tongue is making you melt, his steady hands the only thing keeping you upright. You could kiss him like this for hours, surrendering yourself to this man you call your best friend. This man you’ll love forever.
You’re so lost in each other that you don’t notice Will entering the kitchen. He clocks the situation in front of him and tries to exit silently, walking backwards out the way he came in. He knocks into the recycling bin, startling you and Santiago, causing you to jump apart and hit your head on the cabinet behind you.
“Shit, sweetheart, you okay?” Will asks, genuine concern etched on his face.
Santiago cradles the back of your head as he looks at you, eyes searching yours for any signs of pain.
“I’m good, I’m good, don’t worry,” you reassure them.
Will smirks at you and winks cheekily before he leaves, grabbing a beer on his way out.
“Oh god,” you groan, leaning forward to rest your head against Santiago’s chest. He strokes your hair lovingly, a laugh rumbling through him.
You both know Will isn’t going to say anything. He’s the most trustworthy one of them all. Always observing, never gossiping.
“Love you, hermosa,” he chuckles.
“Love you too, Santi,” you reply, wide smile painted on your face.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Will was the last to kiss you.
It had been a long time coming.
Some people think Will is hard to read. He’s introverted, quiet, a wallflower of sorts. But he isn’t hard to read. Not really. You just have to know what you’re looking at.
He’d called you up one Sunday morning, asking if you had plans. When you’d told him you didn’t, he invited you over for a day of pancakes and terrible movies. It sounded perfect.
Which is how you found yourself lying on Will’s couch, legs tangled together, your back to his chest. His strong arms have found home on your waist, wrapped around your middle. You’re not sure how you ended up here, as you started the movie on opposite ends of the sofa. No one’s complaining.
It’s rare, this kind of intimacy. Casual, effortless, easy. No thought goes into it. You just fall into each other as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Will’s always had that gift. He makes people feel comfortable. No matter where you are, or what you’re doing, one look from those big blue eyes is all it takes to calm you down. It doesn’t matter if you’re being shot at on a battlefield, or just getting overwhelmed in a supermarket. Will’s there, and he knows exactly what you need. You’re convinced the man might be a mind reader, honestly.
He’s not, in fact, clairvoyant. He’s just a listener. No matter what you’re talking about, Will’s looking at you like you’re the centre of his universe. He’d be perfectly content to listen to your voice, to watch the way your eyes light up when you tell stories like this forever. You feel like the only girl in the world, as you lay here in his arms.
You’re deep in thought before you decide to break the silence, voice floating through the warmth of the room.
“Have you ever wanted to kiss me?”
You feel him hum from behind you before he answers softly.
“Every day since I met you.”
You nod gently before relaxing back into him, sighing in contentment.
“Have you ever wanted to kiss me?” he asks, mirroring your question.
“Not a day goes by that I don’t think about kissing you, William,” you murmur.
His arms tighten around you slightly, pulling you impossibly closer. He presses a kiss into your hair, and another to your bare shoulder.
You sit in the silence for a while, letting the questions hang heavy in the air. It’s not awkward – no, it’s the exact opposite. It’s comfortable.
“I’ve kissed Benny, Frankie and Santi,” you confess quietly. You’re not sure why, but it just feels like something you need to get off your chest. You don’t want him to judge you.
“I know,” he speaks softly. He knows. Of course he does.
“Does it make you think differently of me?” you query. You almost don’t want to know the answer.
“Of course it doesn’t,” he replies earnestly. “Why would it?”
“I don’t know. Just doesn’t look good for me, I guess.”
“That’s not true, sweetheart. They’re your best friends. You love them. A kiss doesn’t have to change anything - not always, anyway.” He pauses. “Do you regret any of it?”
“Not at all,” you whisper.
“Exactly. We all think the world of you. You should know that by now.”
You shift and turn so that you’re sitting in between his legs, facing him. You press your forehead into his, and he smiles gently.
“I love you,” you say softly.
“I love you too,” he replies, grinning widely.
Suddenly, he jumps off the couch, pulling you up with him.
“Let’s go outside,” he prompts, dragging you out the door behind him.
“Will, it’s raining!” you squeal as he practically carries you into the backyard.
He grabs you by the waist and spins you around, both of you laughing. The downpour has drenched you both, clothes sticking to your skin, hair dripping. He puts you down and looks at you as if he’s reading the words off the very surface of your soul.
Gently, he pushes the hair out of your face, moving it to behind your ears. He uses his thumb to catch a raindrop that’s making it’s way down your cheek, swiping it away. You’re both soaked through, but you can’t feel the cold. You feel the warmest you ever have, love illuminating your bones.
Will leans down and presses his lips to yours. His hands are on your waist, and he pulls you closer, plastering you together. It’s tender, and it’s sweet, and it’s a perfect amalgamation of Will. You’ve never felt more at peace.
When he pulls away, you remember his words from earlier.
“Does this kiss change anything?” you ask, megawatt smile etched on your face.
“Everything, sweetheart,” he replies, grinning widely. “It changes everything.”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
“You saved the best until last,” Will beams, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.
The boys all scoff, laughing as they do it. You smile broadly, moving to peck his lips tenderly.
“Sure did.”
Benny and Santiago roll their eyes jokingly, while Frankie jabs them both with his elbows.
“Idiots,” he murmurs, still chuckling.
Will’s hand finds yours under the table. His fingers twist the ring you’re wearing absentmindedly, and he leans in to whisper in your ear.
“I love you, Mrs Miller.”
“I love you too, Mr Miller.”
“Guess I just had to kiss a few frogs to find my prince,” you wink at him, the whole table erupting into protests. You throw your head back in a laugh, your whole body vibrating with it. All four of them agree it’s their favourite sound in the world.
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appleblueberry-pie · 30 days
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Please 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 do a yandere miles morales scenario if reader runs away from him
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Pain Isn't Strong Enough
A/n: I'll get as close as I possibly can to "running" away as I can. If nearly spinting almost counts, then absolutely.
Miles didn't know what went wrong. You two were fine with each other the entire time. You often came over to eat dinner. Paid attention to his jokes. You made jokes back. You seemed comfortable when you came over to his place, and vice-versa seemed comfortable when he pulled up at yours. You stole hoodies from him like he wished for you to do. You often texted and called, and everything. You two had great communication skills, the whole fucking nine. So why....? Why are you not...being you??
He knew something was up when you gave him weird strained smiles all throughout the school day. Only would greet back when you two ran into each other again during passing period, and never said anything past that, especially when you two had physics together. He spoke the whole time. You best understand that he definitely checked up on you. Multiple times.
"...baby, are you okay? You've been kind of....kind of quiet lately. Did you eat? How'd you sleep last night?" "I'm fine. Nothing's wrong. I'm good." You'd say, nodding at him. He'd stare at you for a few seconds. Waiting for your face to crack or anything. But nothing. So he let it go for now.
At the end of the day, he offered to walk you home. He asked every single time you two walked back to your place, and you always told him to stop asking since you both always would go, no matter what happened. "Lemme you home, ma." He mutters it softly like every other time. "No." Miles stopped in his tracks and snapped his head toward you. "No?" He nearly shouts it. The confusion he felt was embedded deep into his voice when he repeated that word. The fact that you felt, he assumed, uncomfortable enough to openly decline him walking you home just rubbed him the wrong way entirely.
But he didn't mean to respond so abruptly. He collected himself as soon as he said it to not alarm you. He gives you a concerned stare, making sure to watch your eyes. "You sure?" He steps closer to you, getting rid of the space that he felt like was separating the two of you. "Yeah. I just want to go home." You made up some phony excuse to get him off of your back, but of course, it didn't work. "Then let me take you." "I just said no. Is it wrong that I don't want you to come with me this time?" You slip on your wording, wanting it to sound nicer to not be suspicious. And it just left Miles with more questions.
The undertones on your phrasing made him frown. He stays silent and you regret opening your mouth for every second he doesn't respond. You avoid his gaze, staring down your designated block. "No. Go 'head. My mom prolly need help with the chores anyway. I'll see you later, Mi Corazon." He softly whispers the nickname to you, pecking your cheek. You cheese every time he does it. Giving that laugh he loves and saying that you love him back. Now, you don't even flinch, not meeting his gaze once. "Hm." And you walk off.
His initial thought was that you're cheating. But he would know. So, he lets his heart and bones ache for the rest of the day as he waits for you to talk to him. He lets his mom bother him about where her "step-daughter" is and tries to stay chill the entire time he does his homework. His mind was loud and quiet at the same time. He couldn't seem to focus on one thing at a time until he knew the two of you were good. But he didn't want to press you, he didn't want to stress you out. He wanted you to take your time in reaching out to him. So, he stays patient.
By 9 o'clock, he was done with all possible things he could've done to pass the time. Did the laundry, made dinner, cleaned his mom's car, spoke with a neighbor, he even fixed the fucked up cable wires that had been preventing everyone from watching TV this past week. And it was until then, that Miles finally gets a text message from you. He was practically staring at his phone as if he knew you would answer and immediately swiped it off of his desk to see what you finally said. But nothing in the world could've prepared him for what he saw on his screen and he felt his heart drop as he read the message.
Baby - [Are you the prowler?]
He was ready. He was ready for any response you could've given him. I need space, I'm sorry, how are you, what are you doing, can you come over, hey, i miss you, i love you, fuck you, don't talk to me ever again, lose my number. "Is he the prowler"?? Is that what he's seeing on his screen right now?? Miles firmly believes he's hallucinating that message you sent, but the other ones above it that he had read a million times over are still the same, so it has to be real. Miles thinks of all of the hiding places for his gear, his other computer, his hidden weapons, his other bunch of keys, the paperwork for the deals he made, fuck, he couldn't think of what you possibly could've found that made you draw that conclusion. He cursed aloud and watched his hands begin to shake.
It wasn't the end. You wouldn't end the relationship over something as small as this, right? I mean, he would never hurt you, he knew that you knew this. But on the inside, he knew that this was the end of something. And he didn't know if he wanted to know what. Another message came up. You knew he saw it.
Baby - [Answer me.]
Miles - [I'm coming over.]
Baby - [No, don't.]
He shoved his phone into his pocket and rushed to put on a jacket and some shoes. Sneaking out to the fire escape, he rushed down to the street to speed walk over to your place.
You were scared. You didn't want to admit it to yourself, but in the back of your mind, you knew the truth and just couldn't help but feel real fear in your heart. He really was the prowler. You saw everything. That hyper-realistic metal mask you found under his pillow, it couldn't be for just nothing. For fucks sake, it even had the same holographic colors and shape. You found the claws and couldn't bring yourself to see anymore than you already did. And what made it worse is that when you spent the night the same time that you found his gear, he snuck out of the bed....not returning until the early hours of the morning. It made you sick to your stomach.
He was supposed to just be your boyfriend. Not a killer and a fucking robber and whatever else he was. Secrets as big as these just made you question everything else about the relationship you two had. What if he also had bitches on the side? What if you weren't the only one? What if he was using you? Would he......would he kill you...? You were gonna vomit.
Your body felt numb as you put on his hoodie and a pair of shoes he had gifted you. Everything that reminded you of him, you couldn't get rid of. You love him too much. The more you try to shove him away, the more he surrounds your everyday life and mind. And now he was going to find you. You weren't ready to talk at all.
You turned off your location on your phone and left. Maybe you can stay at one of your girl's houses tonight. But she lives in the direction of Miles's place, and you'd probably run into him on the way there. Maybe your cousin that lives like 30 minutes away? It's dark and....the walk would be so fucking dangerous, but it's safer than literally talking with a killer who you slept in the same bed with who-knows-how-many times. What were you going to tell your mom? Your family? His family?? Did his family know? How can you break up with him without causing an uprise? It almost seemed impossible because everyone loved you two being together. And the ones that hated it wanted it more than the two of you did. Too many people had hope in your relationship, it was horrible. It shouldn't have come to this. Maybe you should've just minded your own business.
You round one, two corners. It's dead silent and there's no one on the streets, which somehow feels worse than actual people being there stalking the streets. You hate that you can hear your own heartbeat and breath. On your third corner, you crash into a chest and rough hands grab you before you can fall. "No! No, get off of me!" You thrash in his arms and he seems to almost yell in your face. "Y/n, can you calm down? What the hell is you screaming for??"
"You know why I'm screaming at you, nigga!" "No, I don't I actually don't. So instead of running from me, can you talk to me?" You huff and go silent, pulling yourself out of his grasp to try and breathe. Miles's face falls when he sees how stressed you look. Your veins almost seemed to pop out of your neck. Did you really not want him there? He didn't know what to do. "Please, cariño, I just want to understand..."
You didn't want to start the waterworks and looked up to keep tears from falling down your face. You struggle to croak out the words, gesturing to help yourself cope. "The stuff...t-the stuff under your pillows and bed." Miles looks off to the side. "What is that stuff you got, Miles?" Suddenly it was quiet again. He didn't want to tell you. You didn't want it to be true. Why wasn't he denying it? Why wasn't he hugging you and telling you it was all fake? A science class experiment? Something? Anything but this?? He looks back at you and gains the courage to step closer, bringing a hand up to wipe away your hot tears on your face, like he promised he'd always do for you. He shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, baby."
You just seemed to cry harder at his words and pulled his hand from your face. Your throat was beginning to close up, the truth showing in what wasn't said. "I hate when you lie to me. I know you know that I hate when you lie to me. Don't lie....don't lie.." Miles wanted you in his arms again, not far away, distancing the two of you in your mind like he knows you're doing. You're great at disappearing when feeling stressed, but to leave him alone? He doesn't think he can take that. He gave his heart to very few people in his life, and somehow it can never fix his problems. His mom's stressed, Aaron wants more from him, and his Dad.... You're the only one that's given him what he didn't know he needed. You're his salvation. And for you to slip out of his fingers is something he can't allow. His only option left is to tell the truth that he has been hiding for so long.
"I am." You sniffle and wipe your eyes. He can't seem to look at them, instead he stares at the necklace he gifted you when you first got together. Knowing that you kept it on was all he needed to keep speaking. "I am the Prowler."
Your face shifts from sadness into one of frustration as he explains. "I've been the Prowler for 2 years now. I go out almost every night. It helps my mama pay the bills, it keeps Brooklyn safe, and it keeps my close family safe as well. I don't do this for nothing." He whispers the words so quietly, as if he was whispering a taboo to you. Never slipped out of his lips before until this one moment with you. You turn your face the other direction. Miles watches you clench your jaw and rushes to take your hands into his, kissing them lightly.
"And I know that's a long time. And I know I was hiding it from you, baby. Pero tienes que confiar en mí. You're on my mind every single night when I'm out. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I couldn't come back to you one night because I wasn't careful. So I stay careful."(But you have to trust me)
Both of his knees hit the hard concrete as he stares up into your glossy eyes, not daring to look away. "You can do anything, anything to me. I don't care. You can beat me the fuck up, mami. But, por favor, no me dejes. I need you! I need you to live, baby. I can't be without you. I don't wanna see you walk away from me. Please." (Please, don't leave me)
Miles whispered the words only for you to hear. All you wanted was that apology and you wished to give in so bad. You wanted him to stay. Miles stood when you looked the other way to catch your eyes again. "Just let me walk you home, mi vida, and we can talk about this in the morning, okay? Or even tonight, if you want to. Just don't give up on me, not like this." Miles's heart was racing a mile a minute. He really didn't know if he could convince you in this moment. Your face seemed to be stone cold. But when he grabbed your hand, you seemed to tighten your fingers around his. His eyes told you what his mouth couldn't say. And by communicating through silence, you let him pull you in the direction of your home.(My dear)
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mochatsin · 7 months
Text
WHEN THE BROTHERS MEET MC’S EX
It’s a fact that you’ve had a previous relationship before you went to Devildom, but due to the nature of the circumstances it didn’t end so well. You never told any of the brothers what really happened until now, so how will they react with this newfound information? Especially when they end up bumping into your ex?
The ex became crazier than I ORIGINALLY intended when I wrote for some of the brothers to make the scenarios unique from each other… that also means some of the break ups and behaviors of the ex are different for each brother… forgive me “T-T !!!
Has some implied abuse but not outright said. Also some mentions of cheating (but not for the brothers dear god). Pls skip if it's not your cup of tea!! As always, thank you for reading.
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Lucifer
He knows about the fact you had a previous lover before, but it was not in his nature to pry. Hearing Asmo wonder out loud “aren’t you a little curious what happened in their previous relationship though?” Lucifer doesn’t want to admit that he does want to know. But it’s your story to tell after all.
Lucifer is confident in his looks and how he presents himself. He’s well-mannered, he’s intelligent, and he’s the Avatar of Pride so what could you have seen in anyone other than– okay, maybe Lucifer may be too curious for his own good. But his Pride would not allow him to be vocal about it. 
There was a time that you came home from RAD seemingly upset and shaken up. He helps you relax enough until you are calm enough to at least tell him what was wrong. You tell him that your ex has been bothering you lately, trying to get your attention for god knows what reason. 
This opens up the conversation Lucifer was waiting for, but it’s not exactly what he was expecting. You told him how you had to break the relationship because your ex became too manipulative and nitpicked every single thing that you did. It became too toxic.
Hearing this made Lucifer think back to all his actions towards his brothers and to you, where he demands everything to the last detail. He never wanted you to feel suffocated around him, he didn’t want to seem too controlling.
The last thing Lucifer wants for himself to remind you of your ex. He wants to practice healthy communications with you, where you can give him a sign if he’s getting too much or something is starting to trigger you. Your comfort is more important right now, and he’d hate to be the cause of your tears. 
He’s tempted to go through your profile case to find the name of your ex and hunt him down personally. Maybe chain him up in the dungeons for days to be Lucifer’s new stress relief outlet until they beg for mercy. But he won’t because it’s your personal life and he doesn’t want to interfere.
When you two bump into your ex while you were out together, his eyes narrowed at the sight of this pathetic human that made his precious MC’s life awful. ‘I want to show them what living hell really feels like… I want to break them in all aspects possible…’ Is a thought running rampant in his mind. 
He brings you close to him, an arm holding your waist as he turns to your ex “No matter the reason, it will not excuse interrupting our leisure time. Your previous transgressions already warrant a punishment. Now run home, while you still can.” He says, a voice so commanding yet foreboding. The dark aura looming around the skies is already a death threat in itself. Your ex is leaving without another word.
The skies cleared and Lucifer turned to you with a soft look, before pressing a kiss on your forehead. He checks if you felt shaken up from the experience and if you were, he’ll hold you close as you both go home while he whispers soothing words by your ear.
He’ll treat you like royalty, basically in second place after Asmo when it comes to pampering you. Lucifer wants to do everything to make you forget that scary experience and if you let him, he’ll personally handle all affairs regarding your ex.
“MC… please believe me when I say that you’re precious. You should never have to go through something like that again, I’ll make sure you’re always safe and happy everyday” He says, placing a kiss on your hand and cheek before pulling you in for an embrace.
After that incident, he makes sure your ex has no way of contacting you ever again for whatever reason. If only he could, he would’ve locked the bastard in the castle dungeons and performed any punishment he saw fit. He’ll eliminate anything and anyone that causes you pain or distress. 
Your ex better watch their back soon. Because it’s always as if the shadows are moving despite nothing being there. There’s always an extra pair of footsteps that can be heard even though they’re alone when walking home. Red eyes glaring at them from the distance before disappearing in a blink. The paranoia that something is watching them would drive them crazy, but the real miracle is if they’d ever make it home without a scratch. 
Mammon
Mammon didn’t take it well when he learned that there was someone else before him that won your heart. He’s supposed to be your first in everything after all! So he may have been a little bit pouty but it didn’t take much to cheer him up again. Just a little bit of affection got him back on his feet. 
He was curious to know who this someone must’ve been to win your affections before the Great Mammon himself, because it was only fair to assume there must’ve been something special about this person right? 
He was quite insistent on it but he respects it when you want to keep it to yourself. Mammon was quite tempted to go through Lucifer’s office to perhaps look at your file, but he doesn’t want to upset you if you found out his attempts to learn more about your personal life behind your back. 
One day he finds you looking pretty upset and as much as you try to hide it, Mammon knows you the best out of all the brothers so he’s not letting you off the hook until you tell him what’s wrong. He needs to know so he can think of how to cheer you up.
You eventually give in and tell him that your ex has been bothering you lately. You told Mammon about how your ex practically ran off with some of your things, ditching you in the dust. Now they’re back but you don’t want anything to do with them, because you’re sure they’re just going to take from you again if you give them a chance to hear them out.
Mammon’s thoughts went a thousand miles per second as you told your story. First, he can’t believe for a second that he envied this asshole! Second, he started to feel the worry that his poor behavior might make you remember your ex. 
He holds you close and tries his best to reassure you that he won’t let your ex even get away with a single dime from you. “If they try to even look at ya I’m gonna have to start chargin’ a fee! They can’t touch the valuables yknow?” And that was enough to cheer you up, even a little.
Mammon is practically glued to you everywhere you go just to make sure you’re doing okay. If you thought he was overprotective before, prepare to be proven wrong. On times that Mammon isn’t with you, there’s always a crow circling around the area around you instead. 
Mammon is extra vigilant of your things after he learned what happened. No one is ever stealing from you again because your treasure is his treasure now. At some point he tried to pick a fight with a classmate that just wanted to borrow your eraser… his heart is in the right place though!
When you two bump into your ex, Mammon gets the first word in the conversation. “Listen here ya piece of shit, if you ever think of bothering my MC again you better start sleeping with one eye open. There’s gonna be a bounty on your head when I'm through with you.” You practically had to hold him back from hitting your ex personally and causing a scene.
When your ex tries to butt in and talk to you, Mammon blocks you from their view “Lost your chance buddy, now go and scram unless you wanna gamble how many teeth will be left of ya once we’re done.” If anyone knows one thing, it’s to not accept a bet made by Mammon himself. There’s not a gamble he made that he didn’t win. 
As soon as they left, Mammon grabs your hand and leads you away as if you both are on the run. “Come on! Before that loser changes their mind, let’s high tail outta here!” He says with a flashy grin. 
Mammon spends the day trying to make you smile again. “Don’t worry about spending a dime, i snagged us some spare change” He says, holding up the wallet he stole from your ex during that confrontation. In his defense, if your ex stole from you then he might as well get even, right? 
He’s definitely not through with your ex now that he’s seen their face. With enough determination and patience from the fourth born, Mammon learned a specific curse for your ex. Now every time they’d need money for something, their wallet would always run short on cash. There’s never going to be enough money, but for some reason they always want more. Well, that’s the Avatar of Greed for you. 
Where does the money go? To Mammon’s pocket of course! Satan was wary of encouraging this bad habit of his brother by letting him have more money but after learning who this victim is? Say no more. That’ll show em to never steal from his human ever again. 
Levi
It didn’t sit well with Levi that you used to date someone else before. The idea that you gave your heart away to another person before Levi fills him with this twang of jealousy. Though he’s the Avatar of Envy so that’s to be expected. 
He doesn’t want to admit that in front of you though, so sometimes he starts talking to his goldfish to cope with it. Levi gets nervous and wonders what could have possibly happened in your previous relationship that made you end it. He’s scared that maybe he’s worse off than your ex or does the same thing. What if he’s already deep waters without realizing?!
It takes a while for him to build up the courage to ask you about it without his envy or anxiety getting in the way of making himself upset and backing out. He wants to know more about you after all, and that includes this. 
You talk about our old ex and how they were terrible to you. You found out that your ex cheated on you and it really did a number on your self-esteem, but you were better at masking that than Levi.
Levi felt awful for making you remember these memories, but at the same time he’s also pissed. How could anyone decide that you weren’t enough to the point they’d replace you? The idea of it is repulsive. He doesn’t even feel like he deserves you himself! Yet your ex had the chance to cherish someone as amazing as you and threw it all away. 
He’d wrap his arms and legs around you, feeling himself about to cry just thinking about how painful that must’ve been. “I-i don’t even know what to say but… I’d never hurt you like that. I’m sorry MC…” 
His empathy for you is enough to cheer you up and Levi spends the rest of the night trying to make you forget about your ex by letting you pick the games or shows to watch in his room. Though a part of him wants to go through the web and look for the bastard. 
Levi may be an anxious sweetheart, but he’s not the kind that would let someone who made you feel so low just run carefree. He’s a demon too, you know? so hacking into your ex’s online accounts and sabotaging them is not something out of his book. He could freeze their assets if he tried hard enough.
When you two end up running into them, Levi could hardly contain himself. Usually he would be the one cowering behind you whenever there are strangers he’s never met, but this time he put himself in between you two. 
“Even though I'm just an otaku, at least I could tell when something is rare and valuable. I bet a normie like you can’t understand that, seeing how you let go of someone as precious as MC.” Levi hissed, fangs threatening to bare at this scum until your ex finally decides to back off. 
Levi keeps his eyes narrowed at your ex until they disappear from sight. His glare is enough to convey that if the ex ever tries to turn around and take a step forward, Levi will have to do something about it. Once he’s sure that the ex is shaky out of sight, he finally lets out the breath he never knew he was holding in his lungs before he checks up on you. 
“I-i know that I'm not the best at a lot of things. Not looks… or sports… o-or studies. But I want to be someone who’s worthy of you!” Levi says, determination in his tone despite the constant stuttering.
To an otaku, you’re one of the rarest collectibles Levi has ever had the luxury of having, and he wants to prove that to the world! He won’t allow anyone to see you any less than that. One day he’ll make an entire powerpoint and show it off to the entire House of Lamentation titled ‘100 Reasons Why MC is the Best’
Your ex should be careful in entering any sort of body of water, especially the ocean. Who knows? Lotan might be looking for the perfect bite-sized meal soon. 
Satan
Satan learned your tells whenever you seem to flinch around people raising their voices. It happens a lot in a house full of rowdy brothers, but he sensed it more whenever there’s a serious fight and you’re around. So he tries to get you out of the mess as quickly as he could.
When you two got closer, you eventually told him about your ex that didn’t exactly… treat you right. Satan listened to every word, his full attention focused on how hurt you sounded and he doesn’t push the topic any further than you’re comfortable with. 
He lets you share what you only want to share, and he won’t pry on the details on what your ex may have done. With or without your explanation, to him it’s quite obvious what exactly your ex made you go through. “You don’t have to say anything more… I heard you loud and clear.”
Despite being Wrath, he tries putting in more self-control because he doesn’t want to accidentally scare you off. You even have special permission to use your pact against Satan should his anger go too far. The last thing he wants is to make you feel afraid instead of loved. 
But that self-control is not extended if he finds any demon hurting you, not even his brother’s are spared from his wrath (but it’s not like they’d hurt you on purpose anyways). He’ll make a protective spell that makes any demon who wants to cause you harm feel like they’ve held the hottest hellfire the moment they touch you. 
Satan was tempted to just go find the bastard himself and make them feel all the pain they made you go through tenfold. He’s not Wrath for no reason. But he doesn’t want to do anything without your discretion, since you trusted him with this broken and vulnerable part of you, then he shouldn’t abuse that trust.
On the day that you both bump into your ex, his gentle facade that he keeps up in front of anyone is gone. Molded into a sour expression full of hate. You could practically feel his wrath burning through your pact. 
“Let’s go MC, this pest is not worth our time.” His words are full of venom as he holds your hand firmly to guide you away from your ex, aggressively bumping his shoulder against them with a force that would have knocked them over. All he wants is to get you out of this situation, fast. 
When the ex tries to grab you to force you to stay, Satan is already putting you behind him protectively with his hand gripping them by the wrist. He really wants to tear them to ribbons for that but the only reason he doesn’t is because you’re here. He doesn’t want you to see that part of him.
His fangs are practically bared, ready to bite as he growls “Unless you want to go to bed with the same number of fingers that you woke up with today… Don’t. Touch. Them.” The hate and anger in his eyes are burning as he stares down at your ex.  
His threats are as clear as his grip on your ex’s wrist starts to get uncomfortably tight, it may leave a bruise as he lets go and that mark hopefully reminds them of his warnings. You watch as your ex scrambles for their life while they still have it. 
Satan had to take in shaky breaths, wanting to calm down from the heights of his anger. He wished he had an outlet, he wanted to draw blood so badly but he can’t let his anger take him too far or you’d have to deal with the aftermath. You need to be taken care of right now, so he does that as soon as he’s collected himself.
“When I'm with you, my wrath… It feels like it finally has a purpose. I want to use all of it to protect you. I won’t spare a single soul that hurts you, my angel” Satan promised, placing a kiss on your head as he held you close to his chest. 
Satan spends the night letting you lie down on his lap as he reads you some romantic poetry, ones that could properly convey how much he loves and cherishes you through words. He would occasionally run his fingers through your hair as he reads through the pages, and he’ll keep doing this until you fall asleep by his side.  
Now that he’s seen what the ex looks like, expect him to ruin their life. He won’t torture them (unless you were open to that suggestion-), but he makes it part of his nightly routine to place a curse on your ex to make their life insufferable. After all, Satan has been looking for a lab rat to test the hexes he wanted to use on Lucifer, and it seems he finally has one at his disposal. 
Asmo  
Asmo is very touchy and one thing he loves is a lot of intimacy in all forms. That includes physical. He’s used to showing these by hugging his brothers, but it made him confused when he didn’t get the reaction he wanted when he hugged you from behind. 
He’s a master at reading social cues so he immediately knows that you’re not okay. Did he hug you too tightly? Are you hurt somewhere? Asmo would whine and press you for answers normally, but he doesn’t this time. 
Asmo tried to get some gossip, wondering if something’s been bothering you lately. He loves how mysterious you can be, but this is the first he’s ever felt this frustrated not knowing enough about you! Not even the brothers knew what was wrong!
Asmo basically caves in one night during his skincare routines with you when he finally asks the question. “Love… no matter how much you try to hide it, I can tell something’s wrong.” He says with a hush tone as he applies a soft toner on your skin, looking at you with puppy eyes.
Even when he’s incredibly narcissistic, Asmo can be incredibly perceptive out of the brothers. He knows something’s bothering you, but he was not prepared to hear the story at all. 
You told Asmo that your ex has been bothering you lately, trying to get in contact with you constantly no matter how many times you tell them no. You explained that your ex called you several names before in the past and has treated you… awfully. You had to endure so much until you escaped that relationship. 
Asmo is probably crying more than you are at this point, ruining the skincare he carefully applied on himself with his tears. “How could anyone just… treat you that way? Do people not realize how lucky they are to have you?” He says between sobs, asking you for permission first before he hugs you.
He’s toned down his tackle hugs so he’d scare you less and take things at your pace. Asmo is happy enough to take it slow if it means you’d feel more comfortable with him. 
Though he’s less forgiving if any demon would look at you the wrong way. Asmo wants everyone to see how you’re the most precious gem in his realm and nothing lower than that. If he hears one bad remark from someone at the club or in school, Asmo will definitely make them squirm under his heel for forgiveness. 
When you both run into your ex, Asmo eyes them up and down. You know that Asmo doesn’t like looking at things he finds disgusting, and he gives off that exact expression when his eyes linger for even a single second in your ex’s direction. The judgment is evident in Asmo’s eyes, he didn’t even need to speak a single word to make it known. 
“I must say darling, your tastes really had a glow up now that I’m looking at that thing. I mean after seeing me, you’d agree, wouldn't you?” He says with his usual playful tone despite being so passive aggressive, subtly trying to lead you away from the ex.  
When they try to get closer, Asmo quickly shoots them a glare. His golden eyes have this particular glow in them as he speaks in an enchanting voice “Would you be a lad and go back to where you came from? Trash like you should walk back to the nearest dumpster, don’t you think so?” 
The mischievous grin in his face rivals the Anti-Lucifer league on the chances their pranks are successful as Asmo watches your ex obey under the influence of his hypnotic charms and run off to who knows where. 
“Ugh, I hate hate HATE looking at unsightly things! Did you see how they look?!” Asmo would whine on the way back home, his words judging every single aspect of your ex from the way their hair is fixed to even the slightest speck of dirt on their nails. He’d complain all the way back home how your ex is the epitome of revolting imperfection compared to himself. 
“You have to make it up for me, love. My eyes need to be cleansed! we’re doing a little fashion show in my room so i can stare at your cute little face all day!” There didn’t seem to be any room to say no, but you agreed anyways after all that Asmo has done for you today. 
He’ll spend the entire night trying to show off your good sides, which is all of it. If he can spend an entire trip home downgrading and judging your ex to the bone, Asmo will happily spend the last few hours of the day telling you what makes you so perfect in his eyes. 
Beel
Beel would be lying if he says he doesn’t feel bothered about your ex. It’s not a matter of you dating someone before, but it’s more of why you’re not telling him anything  about your past. 
Beel wanted to know more about you so he decided to ask Asmo if he had any gossip about you and your life, but to his surprise Asmo didn’t know anything. At some point he asked Lucifer if he read anything about it in your profile, but the oldest born just shakes his head and tells him to ask you personally instead. 
It’s perfect timing because as soon as he leaves Lucifer’s office, he finds you in the hallway and runs up to finally ask you himself. “I just… wanted to know more about you MC, even if it’s about that. It’s still part of you.” He sounds like a child asking for more allowance money to buy some candy.
You both go into your room and you explain why you never bring this up. Your ex always made you feel insignificant during the last few months of your relationship. You’re always neglected, never the priority, and it took a lot of courage for you to leave. Even when you did, your ex made it seem like you’re the one at fault. 
Beel can never understand how anyone could make you feel so small like this… have you always felt this way? Beel is not going to allow that. He wants you to make you his priority. You’re the person that helped fix his family, there’s no way he’s going to let you look down on yourself. 
You suddenly can’t feel the floor beneath your feet and in the blink of an eye, Beel lifts you up in his hands without a sweat. He stares at you with a small hum before lifting you even higher. You look at him, confused about what he’s trying to do until he speaks. “You know that I look up to you, for everything you’ve done for us here. I’ll make sure that no one ever looks down on you again, MC.”
When he says he looks up at you and how he quite literally means it with how high up he’s carrying you, it makes you laugh a little at how silly Beel can be sometimes. Seeing you smile again is enough for him to set you down on your feet and cuddle you for the next hour. 
Congratulations because you just won your own personal guard dog. No matter where you go, there’s always going to be the orange haired cuddly giant behind you. You had to reassure him that you’re going to be fine on your own and hope things would go back to normal. But you learn that not even bribing him with food can get him off your back.
When you both bump into your ex, Beel is immediately towering over them. His freakish height and his muscles as he looks down at your ex is enough to make anyone feel small under his threatening gaze. “Leave.”
Beel is the only thing that’s in between you and your ex. Your ex tried to make Beel budge but he barely moved an inch. It was the equivalent of trying to push against a brick wall at this point, the effort was futile and it just made Beel angrier. 
“I was being nice when I said leave. But I won’t ask a second time.” You can hear the faint sounds of buzzing, knowing how much self-control it’s taking Beel right now to avoid summoning a swarm of flies and locusts. It would be troublesome if Beel lets loose and shows the world why he’s given the title as the Lord of the Flies.
You tell Beel that you want to go home, and he immediately listens to you. With a small nod, he escorts you back while still keeping his eye on your ex in case they do anything funny. It’s all thanks to Beel’s kind heart and his love for you that prevented any sort of bloodshed tonight. 
Beel would take a small detour back and buy you some of your favorite sweets to bring home so you both can share it together in your room. Though the treats never made it back and is nothing but an empty container before you can even see the house in view. Regardless you still had a nice night eating the treats with him on the way.
You noticed the few glances Beel has been sending your way and before you can ask what he’s looking at, he places a quick peck on your cheek “You always look the best when you smile” 
Your ex better pray that they don’t bump into Beel in the middle of the streets because the moment this lovable demon spots them, there’s going to be some impromptu target practice with your ex and the closest table Beel can grab his hands on. 
Belphie
Belphie may be spoiled, but he knows his boundaries when it comes to teasing you about your previous relationships. You told him you’re not ready to talk about it, and he backed off immediately. He may poke fun about a lot of things when it comes to you, but his aim is always to make you laugh and never to upset you. 
He eventually finds out the truth when you were sleeping in the living room one day and he finds you. Just as he was going to join you, your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing like crazy. Belphie was irritated, wondering if it was Mammon annoying you again. 
He never really meant to snoop on your phone, he simply just wanted to turn it on silent mode so you sleep peacefully. But then he saw the various texts from an unknown number trying to demand your attention and calling you names. 
Belphie was so tempted to give this person a piece of his mind, but you woke up and caught him reading the messages. He looks surprised, and that expression immediately turns to guilt as he puts away the phone “MC? I-i didn’t mean to, I swear! But… Can you please tell me what’s going on?”
You can clearly see how worried Belphie looks, so you talk about your previous relationship and how your ex is trying to contact you despite how many times you’ve blocked their number already. You don’t know what they want, but it’s clearly not good. You try to ignore it, but Belphie can see how much it’s bothering you. 
“MC… I never knew…” Belphie says looking down. He still looks guilty, but it’s about something else entirely. He regrets those times he lied to you back when he was still locked up in the attic. He hates himself for doing something so horrible, especially now after knowing what you’ve been through. 
“I… I don’t deserve you honestly but… I want you to be happy, and I want to be the person who puts a smile on your face. Thank you for giving me that chance…” He says, giving you a small hug while secretly grabbing your phone. 
Belphie secretly switches the number so that your ex would be bothering someone else. Maybe with Mammon’s instead so that poor soul would have an earful each time they try to text until they get the message that it’s not you they’re texting anymore. He would’ve done it himself but… he is quite lazy. His older brothers can handle it.
When you both bump into your ex, Belphie looks at them with bored eyes. “Ugh… it’s you” He says, pulling you further away from that person’s reach. “Listen, stop bothering MC… or I’ll make you regret it the next time your dimwit skull tries to send them another text.” His last words were hissed through grit teeth. He may not look so intimidating at first, but he’s not as kind as he may seem. 
The moment your ex tries to send you another message, Belphie already had a curse activated. Any time they try to go to bed, they’re never going to meet the sweet slumber they need. Nighttime is always spent restlessly moving around the bed, trying to get some shut eye. They’re already exhausted by daybreak, and the cycle goes on. 
For the times they do end up falling asleep after passing out of exhaustion, they’re met with awful nightmares orchestrated by Belphie himself. Terrors and apparitions, making your ex feel endless fear for scaring you the past few days with his messages. Belphie is enjoying himself in this shared dreamscape as he watches your ex writhe helplessly. Beel noticed his twin always smiling in his sleep, unaware of how much the youngest is having fun torturing your ex from hell and back.  
Belphie swore to never let your enemies rest as long as he’s around. He’ll see to it that his promise is fulfilled. For now, he’ll pamper you and give you the best dreams so you can feel refreshed and relaxed each day before he goes back to his daily visit in your ex’s dreamscapes to haunt him until this poor soul learned his lesson. 
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angelwhisp3rs · 3 months
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ man like me
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Pairing: RE!2 Leon x fem!reader
Summary: Leon has gone through so much training, life always made it look like he didn't luck out. Always the butt of the joke, he questioned if he would ever be a man. His partner seems to think he is man enough for her &lt;3
Tags: Smut; bj; he cums in her face; slight sub!leon; leon gets called a fairy because he is not considered a "macho man" (i hate m*n)
Notes: First post! I'm so excited, i've been brainrotting for RE for years, and just now decided to add to the community. Love you all! Feel free to give me any tips for my writing or some prompts!
Also, please! If you are a minor, i don't feel comfortable with you interacting with my content, so no minors allowed ok?
Have you ever felt like you weren’t blessed? Well, Leon felt that every day of his life. His parents dying, his rough childhood in the orphanage, he had to work twice as harder than anyone of his peers to achieve anything. Now, as a cop, he believed that this was all in the past - he chose the manliest job of them all.
Oh, well. Turns out that stations were just an adult hangout spot for jocks that never grew out of their high school days.
The women would coo at him, calling him cute and adorable, while the older officers would sneak some comments about him being a “fairy”. Fucking idiots. 
After some months working with them, Leon managed to gain at least some respect among his colleagues - he was a great cop after all, and he even managed to tone down some of the ridiculous teasing (and plain homophobia, if you ask him). 
To the surprise of everyone there, a new recruit would be coming in, making Leon celebrate a little on the inside - maybe it would be his chance to stop being the butt of the joke and finally laugh along with the rest, not being the one laughed at.
He couldn't wait to finally turn his luck around.
'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'
Turns out he is wrong. Of course things wouldn’t go his way once. The rookie was a girl - well, a woman, and a pretty one at that. 
The men there went ballistic. The single, desperate for attention, and the married, aching for an affair. Used to the calm and pliant women in the precinct, the men didn’t wait for even 5 minutes to let out their disgusting comments, calling her a hot piece of their ass, some even suggesting that they could ‘teach her’ the ways around there.
They were so wrong. Cutting their comments short, she looked at them in disgust, and distributed answers that put them back into their places. Hell, she even dared to ask how the deputy’s wife wasn't arrested for animal cruelty for sleeping with a pig like him.
Leon looked at her with stars in his eyes - she was different from him after all, not letting those idiots run through her. The bigoted idiots decided that as a “punishment” to her, she would be his new partner, matching their work hours and patrolling together. That fact made him excited, but not for long. Unfortunately, his intrusive thoughts began swarming his head: “Do you really think she won’t make fun of you?” and “A woman like her would eat up a man like you”.
The only thing he could do was stand a hand to her, offering a handshake “Hi there, partner. I’m Leon Kennedy”.
She had a predatory smirk on her face, looking at him up and down. “Hi, Leon. I think we’re gonna be great partners”.
'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'
When Leon thought she would eat up a guy like him, he didn’t think it would be like that. It was way after the time they had to clock out, and they were the only ones left in the station. Leon was backed up in the evidence room, his pants on the floor as her mouth worked around his cock, drenching it with her spit. The only sounds heard were the man trying to drone out his moans with his hand on his mouth, and her gagging as she took him as deep as she could in her throat.
To Leon, this had to be a dream - no way that would ever happen. But as he looked down, her sinful eyes looking up at him, he knew that he couldn’t even dream of something as good as this. He had to be careful not to knock out the evidence in the surrounding files, choosing to rest his hand on her ponytail - quite convenient for the situation.
“You are doing so well, baby. Why don’t you come in my face, and show them that you are the only man able to do that, huh?” She taunted him as she kept pumping his cock his her hands, slick with her saliva and the precum that drooled on his tip
Her mouth returned to his member as she kept her hands going, thriving at his blushing face and his desperate whines. The man was going crazy, it’s been so long since something other than his hand touched his cock, that the 8 minutes of her mouth - which he believed to be 30, were enough to bring him to the edge. Soon, her mouth pulls back as she jerks him faster, angling at her face as he coats it with his pearly cum, hitting her cheeks, mouth and chin.
While he believed that his soul had left his body and come back, she stood up and grabbed some tissues there to clean her face. All cleaned up, she helped him put his pants back on and pressed some kisses to his jaw, whispering to his ear “Why don’t you come over to my place and show my cunt who is the only man to fill it up?”. After that, she left the evidence room with a smirk, looking back at him once and throwing a wink at him.
Well, it turns out that luck was a person, and it finally caught up to him.
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genericpuff · 4 months
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All That Glitters is Not Feminism - An Analysis of LO's Brand of "Feminism" and What Remains of its Fanbase (A Prologue)
So I referenced a certain article in a recent reblog/ask response and I just need to talk about it because what the actual fuck-
This has to have been written by either a bot or a hater who's reached peak god tier level at playing the long con sarcasm game because NOTHING about this feels sincere or even factual. Much of it almost has to be read in a mocking tone for it to make any real sense.
It says "Lore Olympus" (literally in quotations) in just about every single paragraph over and over again and every single talking point revolves EXCLUSIVELY around Persephone, which I suppose comes as no surprise considering that seems to be all the comic - and its fanbase - cares about at this point.
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I really love (/s) how Persephone's "evolution" is being naive and then 'blossoming' into an independent woman who relies entirely on the rich man who groomed her to solve all her problems.
Also all she's done since becoming Queen of the Underworld is abuse lower class people. That's the stuff feminist dreams are made of <3
While we're talking about the main leads, "poster child" is definitely a word for Hades, I think a more appropriate term would be "literal child". And boy howdy, 'god of consent' sure is a title to give the guy who ripped out a lower class satyr's eyeball and beat him half to death.
This man owns slaves, btw. And both he and his "powerful wife" are equally horrible to lower class people, especially women.
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This is hands-down the funniest section of the article and we're only three bullet points in.
Thetis and Persephone have never even so much as spoken one word to each other outside of the courtroom that Thetis technically put her in after plotting against her for an entire season.
Eros is a man. Nothing wrong with that but it comes with the unintentional icky hilarity of implying that because Eros is the gay best friend, that means he's a woman.
They literally don't read this fucking comic-
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Everyone always relies on this weird talking point of Demeter not being able to "let Persephone go"... y'all, she just didn't want Persephone to outright move to Olympus, she wanted her to commute. That was it! That was literally the only problem! She wasn't preventing Persephone from pursuing a higher education or telling her she wasn't allowed to work, she literally fucking encouraged it! And with the added later context of Persephone killing a bunch of mortals - and, ironically, the fact that Persephone was assaulted/put in harm's way by TWO SEPARATE MEN in the first two days of her time in Olympus - yeah, I don't blame Demeter for not wanting her daughter to move cold turkey actually LOL
Also hilarious that they claim Rachel has turned "tradition" into "innovation" when the only thing she's managed to do is set back modern feminism in her young adult readers by 80 years and re-establish misogynist brainwashing in her adult ones. Rachel, your fanbase was literally shipping a victim of abuse with her abuser just a few days ago.
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oh boy this is uh
this is some cult shit ngl
and the "rewriting the script of Greek mythology" part is VERY concerning knowing what we know about Lore Olympus and who it was written by. This is literally cultural appropriation, full stop, and it exists because Lore Olympus - and works like it, made by people like Rachel - exists.
I can't even commit to the original theory that this was written by a bot because it all feels very pointed and intenetional. This is being written by someone who, at the very least, REALLY sucks at media analysis and writing, because the entire article is just "Lore Olympus, buzzword, Lore Olympus, buzzword, buzzword, Lore Olympus", it's like a white knight incantation for guilty virtue signallers who have zero clue what they're talking about. And at worst, yes, it's appropriation from someone who doesn't mind taking a culture's stories and myths and promoting their erasure by people outside of the culture like Rachel.
And that's it, that's literally the article lmao
*EDIT: There was a section here before addressing the writer of the article from a very opinionated POV that, while isn't unusual for what I do here, did feel necessary to remove after I was contacted by the article writer who addressed the flaws in their original article and is now seeking to correct them with revisions/an article rewrite. So I felt it only fair as a compromise to at least remove that section as it really doesn't have a whole lot to do with this post as a whole and can be removed without entirely ruining the flow of this analysis. If/when that article is rewritten, I'll be revisiting this post and my overall analysis !
And honestly, it's all really telling, because this does accurately reflect the state of the LO fanbase.
Not only do many of the people who defend this comic like it's their job not pick up on the blatant misogynist tones that are going on in its narrative (I can't even call them "undertones" anymore, they're no longer that subtle) but whether or not they even read the comic at all is up for debate with how much stuff they tend to get wrong in their own arguments and justifications. And this is something that's VERY regularly seen in the fanbase discussions, readers will constantly be unaware of things that happened because they skimmed through it at lightning speed just to see if Hades and Persephone kiss and so they can get the top comment on Webtoons so they can be "ahead of the fanbase". It's no wonder that Rachel has gotten used to getting away with retconning things because her fanbase didn't even read what she established the first time.
Rachel's fanbase was literally defending the romance ship of an abuser and his victim on the newest FP episode preview. When that FP episode came out two nights ago and Hera said, point blank, that he didn't love her but abused her, I could only think of that portion of the fanbase who was very audibly simping over Kronos in the IG comment section. Are they actually having their moment of shameful clarity now? Or are they just gonna move the goalposts and pretend that didn't happen?
I don't want to say anything bad about Shelby here because she really seems like she's fighting for her life on this site that she's trying to get off the ground, but a lot of her other articles also come across as very one-note while being peppered with buzzwords that make it seem like what she's talking about is "progressive" when it really isn't. Case in point, Lessons in Chemistry has been commonly criticized for not actually appealing to the demographic that its Mary Sue-ish main character is supposed to represent - women in STEM career fields.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Lore Olympus is not 'feminism', it's white feminism that is designed to appeal to predominantly heterocis white women who think the solution to misogyny is to willingly submit to it and accept the status quo - that it's "empowering" if the woman is smiling and having all her needs paid for by a man. Sure, I can accept that different women will be looking for different relationship dynamics, some women genuinely are happy being in a relationship where they support their husbands first and foremost. But can that truly be called feminism? Or is the real feminism the choices we make along the way that we should be given the freedom to make?
It says a lot about the folks who tend to regularly prop up LO on a pedestal like this as some "revolution in feminism" despite the contrary after spending more than just 30 seconds skimming the attention-grabbing art, and Shelby is just one of many. She's not the worst of the bunch, though.
That goes to someone else who I want to give proper light to in their own essay. Someone who definitely earned a good stern talking-to this past week and has, thankfully, had consequences dished out to her for her horrible actions towards queer POC writers.
If you know, you know. If you don't, buckle up.
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jujutsutrash · 7 months
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I saw an image of Geto as a Catholic Priest on tiktok and it has been keeping me up at night with some hella unholy thoughts. So have a thing about Father Geto written so those thoughts will maybe free me. Still, might write more for this later, maybe. Geto x Reader. Around 1k. NSFW AS HELL, minors leave. Some slight dubcon, maybe a bit of coercion kink. Unprotected piv, breeding kink (sorta coerced). I can feel all the catholics in my bloodline cursing me right now, my parents baptized me for nothing.
Father Geto who is such a kind and generous man of the cloth. So caring and dedicated to his community, truly a shepard to his flock. And he cares for every single one of his sheep. But despite his best intentions, he finds himself taking a special liking to one.
Father Geto who meets every single soul that enters his church with a smile, but the one he gives you feels more tense. You make him feel things he hasn't in years. A desire that goes against every oath he has sworn.
Father Geto who always greets you with a warm hand on your shoulder and a gentle voice. But conflicting thoughts spin in his head. He knows it's wrong, but the lust within him only worsens over time. To him you are pure temptation, and he is just a man, still prey to the weaknesses of of the flesh.
Father Geto who can't help the fire that consumes him every time he sees you, every time you talk. You seem so at ease around him, and it only makes this feel worse. Though, Geto still can't help but let his eyes wander over your form, gaze tracing your curves when you aren't looking.
But one day you notice. And you gaze back at him with the same stare.
Father Geto who can barely fight it. You play the staring game for a not very long time before one day he finally drags you into the presbytery attached to the small church. It's night and the church is empty, except for the two of you. He has you pushed against the wall, lips on yours as you tug at his hair, pulling it lose from it's usual bun.
Father Geto who hears your weak attempts at fighting back. Saying this feels wrong, asking him how he can do that, telling him he is going to break his vow. He meets every one of your arguments with an answer. There is more to being a man of the cloth than just the vows. Not even priests are free of sin. If you both feel it, it must be God's plan. And God's plan can't feel wrong.
It's all in God's plan. It's all in God's plan. It's all in God's plan. He repeats in your ear until the words fall from your lips. A shepard to his sheep and you follow the lead, accepting his words and the way his large hands roam over your body. He looms over you like a predator, thick arms puling you up easily, and you never realized he was this strong before.
Father Geto who doesn't even really remove his vestments that first time. He only undresses as much as he needs, only enough for you to marvel at how massive his cock is. Almost a sin for it to be wasted on a priest. His black robes shield his body and yours as Geto holds you against the wall. It sways as he pushes his thick length all the way into your wet pussy, a moan escaping both of you. He fucks you hard, fast and desperate. And when he cums over your thights and pussy, he promises this will only happen once.
But it doesn't.
He fucks you again. And again. And again. Each time meeting your arguments with an answer. Until you argue no more. You visit the church at night. He passes by your house at times. Nobody minds, he visists people all the time, he is that dedicated to his community. Truly a great man.
Father Geto who still acts like the holiest of men in church. So kind, so gentle, so forgiving of all. Almost a saint to all those who see him. But at night, you suck him under the table he uses to write his sermons, swallowing his thick seed as he caresses your hair. When in your house, he eats you on your bed, cross dangling from his neck as his tongue teases the entrance of your pussy.
You've commited so many mistakes, why not one more.
Father Geto who one day just grunts and shakes as he finishes deep inside your pussy, leaving you in almost panic as you feel his cock throbbing, warm cum flooding your insides. He always finishes outside, so why this now? You tremble as he holds your back to his chest, nose buried in your neck. You try to tell him he shouldn't have done this, that you are not on the pill, but he isn't hearing it, too focused on the way his seed spills out of you when he pulls out.
It gets him going again, and your weak struggles are sushed by a gentle tone that in nothing reflects the way he is slamming into you again. He tells you that you are just too tempting. That this is the ultimate purpose for the weakness of the flesh. That it must be God's plan. At this point, it has to.
Father Geto who drills into you with conviction, chasing the thought of getting you pregnant with his seed. It feels too good and you are moaning as he is praising you all the way. This time he says he is going to fill you up, and you try to argue, telling him it's not a safe day, urging him to pull out. It only seems to rile him up more.
His deep voice sushes your pleas. Telling you it's fine, telling you if you get pregnant then it's a happy thing. Every life is a gift from God. And it's about time you became a mommy anyway. You are capable and reliable, you'd make a great mother. He whispers to you in that gentle tone that the moment your womb bore fruit would be the most beautiful moment in these ugly times.
Father Geto who cums hard and deep inside you, flooding your pussy with his thick and sticky seed as he shushes your arguments with his own. It's the strongest orgasm he could ever experience. And the next time he cums inside, you don't argue. He doesn't cum outside anymore. It becomes the norm.
And when you show up to his church one night, with a pregnancy test in hand, he drapes a strong arm over your shoulder, pulling you into that kind, warm embrace. He speaks to you in that ever gentle tone, like a shepard, full of love for his growing flock. Such a kind priest, that Father Geto, so supportive of his community. You were lucky to have him.
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raayllum · 23 days
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Key to His Heart Theory: Shot Through the Heart, and You're (S5) to Blame
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Intro
So a little over a year ago (since usually I think about things meta wise for at least a good month before writing them down), I wrote a meta about why I thought the Key of Aaravos might hold a quasar diamond, specifically Aaravos' missing chest piece. His heart, if you will.
At the time, I thought it was a very strong contender for what the cube might be, even if it didn't necessarily give us a clear depiction on what it might be used for, and was again operating under the assumption the cube itself is something Aaravos even wants back or needs (which is assumption still, at this point).
It made sense loosely with some of the new information we'd gleaned about the cube from S4 (mostly the Callum pawn intro with its bright flashing light, the emphasis on hearts in the narrative with Ezran's speech, the 4x04 flashbacks) and was likewise built upon a previous meta regarding the series' use of Egyptian mythology (Thoth and Ibis being present somewhat in Callum's arc, the main trio's parallels to another Egyptian myth trio, Aaravos' mirror and mirrors as objects of divination, and potential matching symbolism with the ankh).
The Key to His Heart theory was also built on previous seasons — largely the Magma Titan plot line, and Avizandum being stabbed in the heart — in addition to Aaravos' chest piece, seemingly, being notably absent, which seemed indicative of certain lines from the short stories, particularly Rayla (S4's Dear Callum), but we'll talk more about these later:
Please don’t let this hurt too much. But, if it does—if you feel that soft aching—know that that piece of your heart isn’t missing. It’s not missing at all, Callum: I’m carrying it with me! Always.
If you're interested in this theory and want to know about it, I recommend reading the two metas I've linked above, as the rest of this won't really be delving too much into what I've already written about, and talking about how season five has given more potential evidence.
With that out of the way, let's get into it in rough order of "most to least" likely:
Season Five
TDP Reflections
Whereas hearts weren't mentioned too much in the short stories leading up to S4, they became a reoccurring motif every TDP reflection story going into S5.
Fools. They might as well have held their own hearts, beating and bloody, in the palms of their hands. Kim’dael knew that if she showed them her heart—or something convincingly like it—the Sunfire elves would do exactly what she wanted them to do.
“Rayla,” she said, meeting Redfeather’s gaze. “My name is Rayla. And I’m going home.” Redfeather sighed. “Oh, you bleeding heart.”
“They balk at shadows, then.” Aditi pulled a slip of white-hot metal from the forge and turned to place it upon a gilded anvil. “I see your heart—and I am not afraid.”
It stared up at him. Ezran felt a coldness twist its way around his heart. It took his lungs, too, and for a long moment he could not breathe, could not feel anything but an unfamiliar anger so potent it seized the whole of him, inside and out.
Viren staggers backwards, his last breath shuddering through the blade. His white robes turn red at his heart. Something in Soren’s own chest shatters along old cracks, but he cannot look away. 
“You are stronger than this. All storms end!” Rex rumbled a snort through flared nostrils. “What lies at its heart?” 
 He wept for his city, his people, and the darkness struck deep into their hearts.
While one may say it ends with a sunrise, another will insist it ends at nightfall. Yet at the heart of the story is a single, simple truth…A star fell from the sky.
From where Kim’dael stood, she could only see the brilliant aura of its magic. For a moment, it was as though the queen’s heart overflowed with light.
Now, some of this is undeniably because a heart is a short hand for emotion and one of our most useful metaphors for communicating a variety of emotion. However, I did think it was particularly interesting / eye catching that these lines tended to overlap with the series' growing light and darkness motif and emphasis on wounds/scars (to the point we have a 5x02 episode titled "Old Wounds" that refers to both Viren's past and Callum and Rayla's healing relationship).
But by far the one that struck me the most, and seemed the most reminiscent of how Aaravos's (literal?) wound manifests is this paragraph from Claudia's short story:
Lissa had left her years ago, but the space she had owned in Claudia’s heart remained. It was a dark place now, hard and hateful, its edges raw as a wound that had forgotten to heal.
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Mountains had crumbled and left in their wake a vast new sea. It was as though the land had been dealt a great wound and bled a hundred years. Terror washed across the remnants of humanity like a wave: What power could fell mountains? Turn all the world dark, and bleed a sea from stones?
—Ripples (pre-S5)
As well as Aaravos' clear desire to have revenge over the Startouch elves for something that seems to go beyond the resentment over just being banished:
I have not seen the stars in centuries. But when I see them again—when the stars are forced to look upon me, their dark brother—they will know how I have waited. And when everything they have built lies shattered, I will savor their fall from the sky. For I have been patient.
—Patience (pre-S4)
We don't know yet if we are going to get more TDP reflections going into S6 or S7, but given the way the previous stories emphasize the heart as both a symbolic idea (a darkened, hollowed out heart) and a literal entity you can hold in your hands... It's clear there's something going on symbolism else, otherwise why be so consistent? But enough of the reflections, for now.
Time to talk about S5 itself.
Laurelion
Previously, I thought the cube in the intro (a literal glow toy, as Rayla identified back in 1x05) already had similar properties to the star-glow effect in the title intro back at S4.
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At the time, this was more of a guess. Most of the Star magic we'd seen at that point we weren't able to fully identify as such, it seemed a bit more magenta in colour, and while there was a parallel in the bright flash of light upon releasing Sir Sparklepuff, there's also a bright flash when the prison is actually made. It's just a good short hand for a crescendo of magical power, you know? We didn't know if quasar diamonds were even going to be white, besides the one presumably in Aaravos' chest concept art wise.
And yet — it still felt like something to me. Then S5 with Laurelion came along.
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The Death of the Immortal
K: "And though undying, took last breath, immortal Laurelion was no more." C: That's good, right? I mean when someone "was no more," that's — that's dead, yeah? K: It's a bit confusing, but that is the clearest implication. Though it is somewhat odd they call them undying and immortal. C: Well, that doesn't sound so immortal? Laurelion "was no more". K: Right. C: But how? How did they...? K: Right here. "White as the star's heart it pierced, ivory draconic brought death's bite known ever forth as Novablade." C: It's a sword.
There's a few noteworthy things about this whole exchange:
The poem has to be relevant eventually, otherwise why include it at all when you easily could've just had Kazi and Callum stumble across the sword period?
It confirms that the heart of a star is something that can be pierced, presumably removed, and white, which I think is the biggest "hell yeah" to the 4x04 intro
There is no reason to point out the contradictions in the poem itself unless A) the sword doesn't work the way we think it does and/or B) we are going to find out why the "undying and immortal" thing matters — and they make sure to emphasize the contradictions quite a bit as well, so they definitely want us to notice
If Laurelion died, and Aaravos took his place, that would explain how Laurelion — identity wise — could die while the same person under a new name could also remain alive / immortal
We learn in Rayla's pre-S5 short story that Ghosts don't often keep their real names, and take a new one as the final severance of their bond with their old community. For all extents and purposes, Aaravos was Ghosted (banished) from his community as well. Taking a new name would make sense
"That must've been when [Harrow] fell." "Fell? Fell! He didn't fall, Rayla, he didn't trip and fall on the ground — he got killed!" (2x08)
There's more speculation here regarding the actual sword and draconic ivory, but that is another post for another day that other smart people have made if you are interested. For now let's just focus on the heart.
We know Laurelion had a heart; we know it got stabbed with the Novablade, leaving Laurelion both no more (i.e. dead) and yet immortal / undying. We know that Arc 2 in particular has had an emphasis on losing your sense of self and identity ("I was his puppet" / "We can't save everyone, Soren" / "But I'm not evil. It's me" / all of Viren's dream visions). We know that a Star's heart is white. We know that Aaravos seemingly used to have one, and now it's either missing or impermanent, only visible sometimes.
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(Putting a pin in the second image cause we'll roll back around to it in the counter evidence section.)
We know his chest centrepiece glowed when he was imprisoned, and we know it was seemingly gone when he got banished. We know something about the Key of Aaravos was able to reveal his treachery.
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I'm not saying any of this is for sure connected, but it does make you think, at least a little?
That, and it'd play into another bit of potential interesting foreshadowing / symbolism we got in s5 with
Viren Heart Theory
This is another theory I've discussed in more detail elsewhere, so I'm going to link to it here, but it wouldn't feel right to not talk about it at least a little here. Basically the theory is that Viren used his own blood / a piece of his heart, or possibly the whole thing, and the relic staff in order to save Soren when he was a young child.
This is largely due to Viren's spotlight turning red after he begs to be able to save Soren, and cinched by Kpp'Ar pointing specifically at Viren's heart only for Viren to deflect and start talking about Soren's case specifically. Whatever he did seemed to make him more 'powerful,' but at a great personal cost ("In the name of love you may perform acts that are so unforgivable, you will never forgive yourself") and something he finds the need to justify ("I had to do something! I had to save him! I had no choice!").
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If Viren did this, it also adds another layer to Viren's sentiment of "Harrow's death breaks my heart" being well, half-hearted, in addition to Soren literally stabbing illusion Viren in the heart in 3x09. Viren mutilated his heart for his son's life, stopped being able to properly express love to said son, and then Soren stabbed his father right in the place that presumably saved him as a child. Ouch.
It seems likely that one of the reasons Aaravos was able to prey so aptly on Viren's desire for importance and attention — to Matter — was because Aaravos might've tried and failed earlier on to get the Startouch elves to listen to him pre-banishment. Being ignored, exiled, and disempowered is something he can relate to, and something he doesn't mind taking advantage of when it suits him.
However, if this combination could save someone Viren loved, it makes me wonder if Aaravos did something similar to likewise try (and fail?) to save someone he loved, too. It's either that or the Startouch elves just completely ripped it out, so... I guess we'll have to see?
But yeah — if Viren did it, then I'm expecting it's more likely that Aaravos did it, too. That is all.
The Pawn Intros
But Dragons, you say, didn't we already talk about the Callum pawn intro?
And to that I say yes, but — thanks to a promo S6 picture of Aaravos crying, we know something else very important about said intros that we didn't know before: they take place at the Sea of the Cast Out.
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The sky, the mountains... the fact we know, thanks to the statues in 5x09, that this is likely where Aaravos' grief — his wound, if you will — began to bleed and take root, leading to his thousands of years of seeking vengeance and using just about anything or anyone he could. This is, presumably, where his chess game started... and where it is, symbolically at least, going to end.
Okay, so it's the Sea of the Cast Out — why does that matter?
Well, we know the Sea of the Cast Out is a site of literal trauma for Aaravos. We know, thanks to the statues of Aaravos and the Merciful One, that it plays into the same reaching motif we see Viren participate in quite a few times, both in his intro and in other places/relationships (most notably Sarai, Harrow, and Terry).
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The Sea of the Cast Out is also, perhaps more importantly for this theory's purposes, near Elarion. What little we do know about the city beyond it being an important place for humans and dark magic ties it repeatedly to nature through The Midnight Star poem:
Elarion, trembling seed, lay down to earth in icy night, and in the cold her roots took hold defying winter’s deathly bite. Elarion, fading bloom, afraid to wilt and dim and die, [...] Elarion, dying husk, did wilt and whimper in the dark [...] Elarion, black-eyed child, her twisted roots spread deep and far,
as well as a tale about the Flowers of Elarion, precious blooms that could soothe the senses and turned to dust come morning—flowers that were left as "a fair exchange of beloved for beloved" (Tales of Xadia). Put a pin that Exchange idea because I swear we're gonna come back to it but not in the usual way you might be expecting, or at least not entirely.
And we have good reason to believe this nature motif is tied to Aaravos' current imprisonment as well, given how present flower imagery is for his mirror.
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So the Sea of the Cast Out and Elarion seem to be the two places we know of thus far that are not only the most important to Aaravos, but the most instrumental to his banishment. It would not surprise me if either Aaravos got involved in what would become Elarion either because he was banished, or it was what he was banished over, or if discovering the truth of what happened there is likewise why the Archdragons were partially like "Yeah, we gotta lock this guy up" (now that they knew he posed a serious threat). The fact that Elarion is referred to as a child (everything with "blood of a child,"), black-eyed (which denotes dark magic), and winter's "deathly bite" ("White as the star's heart it pierced, / ivory draconic brought death's bite") just all ties together nicely in being related even if we're not totally sure how.
But Aaravos having his chest piece removed by force / as punishment in addition to being cast out by the Startouch elves, or him taking it out himself and giving it to someone who was lost... There's a lot of roads to get here as to why this stuff all seems connected if the Key is indeed his chest piece, which offers up both a power up, a sad tragic backstory, some baller symbolism, and some nice double meanings as to what it is key wise.
As the Key works in the moment, it doesn't seem like it's something that would be very useful to a primal mage, as other than pretty easily identifiable gemstones they wouldn't be using much the key identifies. However, the function of the Key being able to categorize and sort magical creatures and plants from each other is something that is very useful if you're a dark mage and need to shore up your ingredients list.
If the Key has Aaravos' chest piece in it, there are two main prongs this offers:
It may have been instrumental in helping humans discover dark magic, hence the "Elarion, searing white" and could also be the Gift the poem speaks of. Aaravos removed it himself (love makes you weak?), gave it to his chosen human, chosen human died, and he was locked out of Startouch realm as a combined result. This offers the clearest connection between why Aaravos' mirror has the nature motif and why Aaravos is crying in the beginning of 6x01.
It was removed by the Startouch elves and lost/hidden, forcing Aaravos to be away from his old home until he could find it again. This is the clearest explanation as to why the Key might be relevant on a plot level. It could give him the power up he needs to get out of his prison and barring that, it's what he needs to wreck havoc and gain access to the Startouch elves to get revenge on them
It also allows what we learn of the cube in 2x06 to have multiple meanings:
The Key is revealed in an episode called The Heart of a Titan. We're led to assume that this is just the Magma Titan, and you could perhaps make an argument the dual meaning (just like how Breaking the Seal refers to the letter and the titan's chest) refers to Harrow or Callum's capacity to love. But, given that one of Aaravos' most prominent mythic comparisons is to Prometheus, a literal Titan, well...
"It unlocks something of great power in Xadia" would work equally well if it's a Key literally made from Aaravos, not just to Aaravos. And the past 2 seasons in particular have emphasized over and over again just how powerful and dangerous he is
The salvation and destruction motif that is inherent in the key, ("I just have a feeling this key thing can help me" / "It's the key of Aaravos, no good will come of it") as keys are linked to chains and freedom with the ability to lock and unlock, is rampant in 2x06, as Viren states that Xadia and the Magma Titan "held both the promise of our salvation and threat of our destruction." This goes double for Sarai sacrificing her life to save Viren
And to round back to Viren and his intro, I don't think it's a coincidence that
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is one of the first things Aaravos ever says to Viren, particularly when trying to earn Viren's trust. (Nor that Aaravos considers that Zubeia and co. "betrayed" him when "he would lower his guard," just before the imprisonment.) And while Aaravos gains Viren's trust as a political ally here first, it's also clear that he's actually primarily preying upon Viren's deepest emotional desires here as well: to be listened to. To matter.
Viren wasn't listened to by the monarchs around him (Harrow). He wanted to be important (to them). He wanted to matter.
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"It is everything to me, to know that I matter. It's all I ever wanted."
Aaravos: Search your heart. There is something you want very badly. (2x09) Zubeia: He was able to give them something they wanted very badly. (4x04)
And that's what Aaravos offered him, with power and knowledge just being the bait. (If you're interested in more detailed thoughts on this aspect of Viren / their dynamic, check out this meta here.)
More to the point, I do lean towards the Key's plot purposes being 1) a power-up that may be needed for him to get out of his mirror and 2) something that likewise allows him to see the other Startouch elves again. After all, the Silvergrove gave each elf a similar kind of key:
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But y'know what, let's talk about Rayla now, because
The Missing Piece of Your Heart
As stated earlier, Rayla's letter has a consistent metaphor when it comes to family and loss:
I remember how I felt when my parents left me to join the Dragonguard, like PART OF MY HEART WAS MISSING and I would never feel right again. I thought I hated them when they did that to me. In the beginning, it felt so big and terrible—like raging despair—but, overtime, it became a soft, sweet ache—a reminder of that missing part of my heart. [...] Please don’t let this hurt too much. But, if it does—if you feel that soft aching—know that that piece of your heart isn’t missing. It’s not missing at all, Callum: I’m carrying it with me! Always.
This struck me as interesting when the letter first came out, as it was a departure from most of Rayla's previous heart motif ("My heart for Xadia") and even the one attributed to her one half of her parents ("My heart goes out with this one"). Why have the motif suddenly switch up when it would've worked just as well, or been doubly romantic + a Ruthari parallel, to just have it be the whole heart?
Then season four came out, and I understood, because, well...
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Upon her return, Rayla brings back that "missing piece" of "Callum's heart". It's a painful restoration and doesn't run entirely smooth, but in season five in particular we see him be much more like his older, happier self once he's let himself love her again, and how steadfast he is in said love ("To love is simply know this...").
But, in a moment that could've been exclusively about Rayla, nor did it need for Stella's connection to the Star arcanum to be this prominent in the same moment, they choose to likewise highlight Rayla 'bringing home' the missing piece of Aaravos' heart, too.
This symbolism is also consistent with how the key is introduced in the first place, i.e. first thought of because Rayla's drawing in Callum's sketchbook (another gift from Harrow) reminds Callum of it, and her ultimately being the one to retrieve it even once things at the Banther Lodge take a turn towards the south.
Furthermore, we do have reason to believe that Rayla is indeed the 'Key to Callum' in a sense, particularly after 5x08. Just like how a key can both lock and unlock — give freedom or entrapment — Rayla symbolizes a great deal of duality in Callum's life, including but not limited to:
Leading him to primal magic (1x03, 5x08) and dark magic (2x07, 5x08)
Light ("No one can control you or make your choices for you" / Ray of light) and dark ("But the second you see that elf girl in pain, you completely lost yourself" / "Stay safe, and stay in the light. Don't look for me")
Being routinely emphasized in Callum's arc with Aaravos, especially in S4
"Now you're back. That's kind of good, and it's kind of bad" / "You have to hold pain and love in your heart at the same time" / "And when she came back, I was so happy, and so mad at the same time"
Salvation ("Rayla saves people [...] that's what makes her a hero") and destruction (being willing to die / do dark magic for her)
The Ocean arcanum realization being both positive and negative, just as the poem itself takes on a different shape across the season in regards to how Callum views her and how he views himself while being motivated by his love for her / Ezran
“Wow. So [the berries] look identical, but they might kill you or they might save you,” Callum said. “Exactly. Just like me…” Rayla smiled.
—Book One: Sky novelization
If you're interested in a more specific meta on this dichotomy, I recommend this meta written pre-s4 and this more recent one about 5x08 specifically.
I've written before about Rayla have a weird consistency with the cube as well, particularly in her being the primary carrier of its foreshadowing for most of arc 1, with Callum only really doing so in 1x04 and having Rayla pick up the slack the rest of the time:
"It's a toy, a piece from a children's game" (1x04) as well as "It's a glow toy" (1x05) are now literally true as the cube is 1) involved in Aaravos' game and 2) literally glows a bright flashing light circa the 4x04 intro.
"Are you practicing magic or are you losing to Bait at a game of rolly-cubes?" (2x07 right after Callum calls it a key) came to pass, somewhat if not outright, it seems, in 5x08. Callum practices two different magics, Rayla is literal bait in exchange for the glow-toad, and the episode ends with Callum being worried he's potentially losing Aaravos' 'game' so to speak — that he's made himself more vulnerable to the Startouch elf's control.
Two lines of hers regarding the cube that have not yet come to pass are "This doesn't end well for you" (1x05) and "I hope it was worth it to you, putting everyone's lives in danger" (1x04) but I expect that we'll get them soon enough.
Rayla's 'tether' to a the cube does, of course, loop back into the Flowers of Elarion tale, in which there was a fair exchange of beloved for beloved. If the Key does indeed hold Aaravos' heart (and that is still a very big If), whether it would include an actual exchange is still debatable, but it seems inevitable that she would at least play a part. (If you're interested in more thoughts on Rayla + the cube, check out this meta pre-s4.)
Where the game motif gets the most interesting, I think, is where it intersects with the idea Aaravos mentions in 2x09 regarding, "Those who fail tests of love are simple animals," and one of the TDP short stories in particular having one very interesting tidbit:
“My behavior is—?” “—unusual,” Corvus repeated, nodding. “Very unusual. Ever since you started challenging me to all these little games.” Soren squirmed. His pauldrons clanked as his shoulders slumped. “They aren’t games. They’re tests. Ugh…I’m really messing this up.”
Since Rayla is going to have her "My heart for Xadia" undeniably tested, it would make sense if Callum and Aaravos' hearts came into play too, don't you think?
Other Misc Symbolism / Oddities
Last but not least, we have our odds and ends that didn't fit in the other sections, but I thought may be worthwhile to mention anyway.
For starters, we have screencaps (most notably in 3x06) where you can see a visible dip in Aaravos' tiddies chest that indicates something was removed, and it's not just an artificial darkness.
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We have Aaravos touching a fist to his heart twice before he bows and indicates that Callum is going to "play" into his hands (remember that game motif?).
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We have this shot, which is the exact kind of thing that "crew makes sure the Ocean and Moon runes are most prominently on display in Callum's dark magic dreams to foreshadow him doing dark magic in S5 Ocean for his Moonshadow gf 3 seasons later" would absolutely do and think they're So Funny about. "No gem for star magic" except the one you're unknowingly holding in your hand, am I right?
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Finally, we have precedent that dark magic can 'darken' your heart both in show when Amaya passes the light trial ("A human that is pure of heart") and in the graphic novels with Claudia ("Your heart is not yet darkened") which allows her to see the map to a unicorn (The Puzzle House).
@self-spaghettification also noted that the bright white flash of the star in the 'o' of Aaravos' name in the Arc 2 intro momentarily looks like and makes the shape of the Nova Blade, which is also very cool.
Honourable mention to Rayla going "it's a piece from a children's game" and Ezran going "you said each of the archdragons had a piece of the puzzle" and the Orphan Queen and Jailer presumably working together to trap Aaravos. I think about that shit every day.
Evidence to the Contrary / Alternatives
But like I said at the start, there are plenty of alternatives or feasible pitfalls to consider. This theory resides on a few assumptions after all, that may not be true, such as Aaravos not actually needing the key for anything other than as a lure for Callum, it could purely have something to do with the Nova Blade and nothing to do with the prison, or even have something to do with the nature of magic itself, capable of great good as well as great evil.
His chest piece could've always been more immaterial and dark magic has just darkened it rather than it being removed. Aaravos may have stabbed Laurelion in order to use that heart diamond to partially make the Relic Staff he passed onto Ziard, or Aaravos' chest piece could be in the staff itself, and the cube is something else entirely.
Conclusion
In the end, as we go forward into S6 all the above is more less my personal bet as to where I think we really could go in terms of answering a lot of these questions we've had for a few seasons now. I hope you enjoyed reading the theory and considering (and possibly subscribing to) it, as well as getting your own thoughts stimulated. If any of the above happens I will cry for days and no matter what, I am deeply intrigued to see where S6 takes Aaravos' backstory and, of course, his cube. Luckily:
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itwasthereaminuteago · 6 months
Text
|| Shop Talk ||
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This one's for @theradioactivespidergwen as she's been feeling shitty and writes the best, hottest Murderdock and reader series which this little piece is inspired by. Hope you enjoy 💝💋
Tags/warnings: I should say Murderdock is from Earth 65 but I've set this in the Netflix universe. Cock warming, semi-public sex/slight voyuerism, tiny little bit of daddy kink.bif you enjoyed please reblog so that others can too!
"The Russians are getting twitchy, they don't seem happy with the property offer."
Matt pours both himself and James Wesley a generous measure of whiskey into the thick crystal glasses on the low table before throwing himself back and lounging on the plush sofa cushions.
"Ugh." He rolls his eyes, taking a long sip of the warming alcohol, savouring the taste before letting it roll down his throat. "I don't see why. This was all agreed, prime fucking property in exchange for weapons, pretty simple offer. Pretty good one if you ask me."
"I get the feeling Alexey will come back asking for more than he deserves." Wesley adds.
"Oh it's almost guaranteed…" Matt pauses as you walk into the room, the hem of your silky nightdress barely covering your ass and the tops of your thighs. "Hi honey, what're you doing up so late, hm?"
"Can't sleep." You quietly reply, coming to sit on the couch beside him with your feet tucked up under you.
"Too hot? Too cold?"
You sigh. "No, the temperature's fine."
He tilts the glass held between his thumb and middle finger back and forth. "Maybe you just need a little nightcap sweetie."
You shake your head, leaning against his side, your fingers playing with his tie, pulling it up slow and letting it slip through your fingers.
"No Matty, I don't need a drink, I need you."
"We'll be finished soon darling, and then I'll come to bed."
"Please?" You add a little flavour of bratty whine into your begging because you know he can't resist it.
"I can go, sir…" Wesley makes a move to stand up but Matt raises his hand to halt him.
"No, no Wesley, that won't be necessary. Please, stay." He sighs dramatically. "It's my own fault, I've been a terrible boyfriend, too much business and not enough pleasure, how very unlike me! My little angel just gets a little needy sometimes, don't you baby?"
You nod slowly and he kisses your forehead sweetly. "And what kind of man would I be if I didn't make sure my best girl is taken care of?"
"A very bad one." You reply and he chuckles and grins, patting his thigh. "That's right. C'mere baby."
You do as he asks, putting your hands on his shoulders and swinging your leg over him to straddle his lap.
"Now, you see Wesley, this is how the Russians need to be with me," he explains as he starts to unfasten his suit pants, "just some clear communication, that's it, no fucking around," he eases his half hard cock out from his boxers under the cover of your short slip. He nearly always gets hard when he knows you're wearing some pretty lingerie around him and this time is no exception when his fingers run over your beautiful silk-covered breasts and on downwards, to where he discovers to his delight that you're completely bare underneath your nightwear.
"All I want," Matt continues, sucking air through his teeth as he lines himself up with your pussy, "is for them to tell me what they want…" his hands move to grip your hips as he slowly guides you to sink down on his length. "Mm, fuck sweetheart you feel so good… - and if it's an acceptable request-" You moan quietly as he fills you fully, feeling every single vein and ridge of him as you take his cock to the hilt, wrapping your arms around him as you lay against his chest and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. "Yeah, that's it, good girl... I'll be more than happy to give them it."
He shuts his eyes to take a breath for a second as your walls squeeze him while you adjust.
"Alright. Is that better now angel?"
"Mmm."
"And are you going to be good for me and stay nice and still? Because you know if you start teasing me I'm going to have to fuck you over the coffee table and you know how that ended last time?"
You smile softly with acquiescence at him but with mischief in your eyes. "Mm, worth it."
"Mm, expensive." He counters pointedly, albeit with a slight smirk.
He rubs his hand slowly over your back as he turns his attention back to his second in command. "So, do you have any good news for me?'
Wesley clears his throat, following Matt's lead getting back to business.
You manage around ten minutes of boring crimelord admin chat before shifting in Matt's lap, the angle pushing him even deeper within you causing your cunt to clench at his dick and a tiny whimper to sneak out from your lips as Matt groans.
"Princess," He grits out. "What did I ask you earlier? I'm working."
You bite at your bottom lip. "I'm sorry daddy! I was just trying to get comfy, I didn't mean it." His cock twitches at your petted words and his tone drops low to the voice he only uses at night in the Kitchen... and in the bedroom.
"Sweetie, you were doing oh-so well for me before…" He removes his red-tinted glasses and sets them on the arm of the couch.
"I can be good..." you whisper before tugging his earlobe between your teeth. His fingers press into your thighs and you feel the hum he makes in his chest as he responds, I know, through your entire body, and you can't help flutter around him again as he makes you even wetter.
"Wesley," Matt's voice is ever so slightly strained as he secures your legs around him before he stands, sweeping everything off of the low table in front of him onto the floor before he lays you down on it and looms over you, still buried inside your warmth.
"I'll- talk to you in the morning, sir." Wesley finishes as he knocks back the rest of his drink and starts walking towards the penthouse elevator door.
"Yes, thank you," Matt replies, but he's entirely focused on you now, the hand that's not holding you spreading around your jaw and gently pressing his thumb between your lips to suck on. The elevator bell chimes softly as the doors slide open. "Oh, and Wesley?"
"Sir?"
You gasp as Matt draws back slowly and snaps his hips forward sharply, jolting you across the polished surface of the table as he uses one hand to loosen off his tie. "Order another one of these for me, hm?" He says, slapping his palm down on the wood. "Maybe something a bit more… sturdy."
Your devil of a Kingpin finally gives in to his angel, giving you what you want, all night long.
And afterwards? You've never slept better.
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manicpixiefelix · 2 months
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Me projecting but neurodivergent!L/N Siblings who need to decompress after every party or dinner their parents host at the family home. Retreating to the refuge of their bedrooms where they shrug off the uncomfortable clothes, scrub at their faces and hair, flop down on the bed or floor. Listen to music while gazing up at the ceiling, tapped out after forced smiles and pleasantries.
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oh my GOD this ended up being 1.8k of pure oliver/felix/reader fluff ft. oliver & reader knowing each other so well they can communicate silently, reader becoming nonverbal after events, and the l/n siblings inviting felix to chill and relax with them in these moments after events because they know he understands and feels a similar kind of pressure to what they go through. also yeah big same on the projecting neurodivergent!L/N Siblings, esp. the reader, because Me Too. this got out of hand lol maybe i should have just published it as a full fic, but i love this au v much. i know including Fi probably wasn't what you expected but........ i had to sorry lol.
but also since this is technically an ask im gonna include a song for the vibe, which is Talk Me Down by Troye Sivan because Blue Neighbourhood will always make me emotional.
The first time Felix ever sees the two of you truly unmask is after one of the smaller gatherings his parents held early that first Summer. He's not quite sure when the shift occurred, but he very quickly became aware of it. Oliver by your side, and usually at least comfortable offering quiet additions to conversations for himself, started to simply murmur his thoughts to you, before finally becoming nonverbal. Somehow you were still able to interpret from the things he didn't say, but you were clearly growing weary too. Oliver gives thin lipped smiles, but at least he's given the grace to appear haughty by your shoulder; your smile never drops, but it doesn't reach your eyes.
For a brief moment that the pair of you have to yourselves, Felix watches a whole conversation pass between you and Oliver from merely a look that you share. You link your pinky with Oliver's, and he perches his chin on your shoulder; a brief moment of relaxation and serenity as you both let your eyes close, tension relaxing for a beat at you press your forehead to his. Felix has the strangest sensation, like he can hear the way you two share an I love you without either saying a single word.
You say good night to all the gathered guests, and Felix family, on behalf of yourself and your brother not too long after Felix witnesses the exchange. You get handshakes and kisses on the cheek, and Oliver makes sure, even if he remains quiet, to give winning smiles and kiss the older, sophisticated ladies on the hand like a true gentleman. Felix tries to ask if you're both alright when you get to him, last of all, and though you both smile, it's not quite believable. At least to him. But he lets you leave.
He makes his own exit soon after. Oliver's room is the closest to his, so it makes the most sense to go there first. At least he'd have some sort of excuse. He goes through his own room first, suit jacket haphazardly tossed on the bed and tie along with it, already unbuttoning several of his buttons to make himself more comfortable. Crossing the bathroom he strides confidently to Oliver's door and knocks.
No answer.
"Ollie, it's me," he says gently, "are you okay, you just seemed a bit -" the door opens very slightly and it's you peering back at him. You're not smiling. You're not... anything. You blink at him. Felix takes a moment to reassess the situation, then you open the door wider and you step back into the room, no longer watching him. Felix feels like he's intruding the minute he realises both you and Oliver have stripped down to your underwear; he's stumbling through apologies, suddenly bashful under Oliver's watchful gaze where he's splayed out on the bed, a tired kind of curiosity in his eyes. But neither of you seem particularly bashful yourselves, nor are you running to cover yourselves.
Felix watches you stretch yourself out on the bed beside your brother, looking up at the ceiling as you blindly reach for a single earphone you know will be waiting where you'd obviously left it on the pillow. He settles himself, tries to remind himself that you'd both let him in on this moment. You close your eyes.
"Is everything okay?" This time the concern is genuine. In this moment, Felix is surprised when Oliver appears to take the lead for you both. For just a moment, he reaches across himself to gently pet your hair.
"What is to give light must endure burning," he says faintly, before turning to Felix with that same, faint but tired smile, "thought you'd know what it's like to be the sun, Felix." And, yes, of course Felix knows what he means... except in situations where comparisons are drawn with the two of you.
Before he can ponder too much, however, you shift on the bed, almost imperceptibly, but Oliver purses his lips.
"I'm not pretentious," he says out loud, and Felix realises it's more for his benefit than yours; he often marvels at the strange, silent way the two of you can so clearly communicate. It happens again; you barely crack your eye open, levelling an indecipherable look at your brother as your lips quirk into the faintest smile. In response, Oliver rolls his eyes and tells you to shut up, though his tone is fond.
Then, after another moment, your gaze lands on Felix. Suddenly he feels it all, the exhaustion, the ache of keeping up appearances, the restrictiveness of the formalwear he's been coaxed into. Everything's too much, and the two of you, window open with a faint breeze, wearing next to nothing and allowing yourselves to just be after the pressure of performing, it sounds fucking heavenly.
"How are you going, Felix?" Oliver asks, following your gaze, almost like he can read Felix's mind. Maybe he can. Maybe that's how the two of you can operate so seamlessly, so unspokenly between each other. Both of you are looking at him now. He feels incredibly overdressed. He laughs awkwardly, but suddenly can't seem to look at either of you. The words get stuck in throat for a moment.
'Thought you'd know what it's like to be the sun, Felix' is what Oliver had said; not feel like the sun. To be the sun. Because you both know how the rest of Felix's life orbits around him, except for the two of you. You've so warped his reality, his own orbit, he's had no choice; Oliver is the moon to your sun, but what does that make him?
Binary stars; Felix is still the sun in his own life, but he could never match your gravity once he's come across you, nor could he escape it.
"Kind of like I'm burning, I guess."
As soon as he says it, he knows it was the right answer. Both you and Oliver shuffle away from each other, making distinct room between you on the bed, an unspoken invitation.
This is one of the big turning points in the relationship, Felix realises as he's undressing, trying to keep his heartbeat under control. He can't believe he's here, that this is really happening; this is nowhere near what he'd expected when he went knocking on Ollie's door.
"What are you listening to?" He asks awkwardly as he makes his way onto the bed from over the foot of it. You, eyes once more closed, pulled the earphones from the iPod by your side. Once you pressed play once more, Felix hears Amy Winehouse croon from the little speakers. He flops on his back between you both and stares up at the ceiling. It's strange, he almost feels like he's waiting for something to happen, though it does feel much freer with the breeze and only in his boxers.
After a beat, you let out a low, contented hum, shuffling closer to Felix, enough that you were able to press your cheek to his shoulder.
"Yeah," Oliver agrees quietly to whatever he'd gleaned from your movement and noises, "'s a lot to be out there in the world sometimes," to which Felix makes a faint noise of agreement. He feels your fingers wrap carefully around his arm, and your face turns to press firmer against his shoulder. Your lips are against his skin when you hum again, and he feels like his whole body lights up with the contact. Oliver, who's head is on the pillow beside Felix, turns to look at him; he's not smiling, but there's fondness in his gaze, unfiltered, so unused to how he usually looks at Felix, "you're always welcome here if you need time like this. We won't tell if you won't."
You nod against Felix's shoulder, Felix feels like he's about to pass out with how hard his heart is beating.
Because he knows you both, has seen you operate together in the world for the better part of a year in person, and years before in the tabloids before that. This exhaustion, this clear detox from an uncomfortable foray into society, is not something the rest of the world is ever allowed to see.
And you're inviting him into it.
Felix falls asleep there, between the two of you, on top of the duvet. It's the best sleep he's had in a very long time.
The next time it happens, he's surprised that you're both already so willing to include him in the routine. Saying goodbye to everyone else at the event, you simply give him a tired smile, and Oliver actually speaks to him directly, rather than through you the way he had been for the past hour, to pointedly wish him good night.
Five minutes later, Felix lets himself into Oliver's room, and finds the two of you, already down to your underwear, sitting cross-legged on the bed as you are gently removing Oliver's concealer and eyeliner with a makeup wipe. You've forgone earphones entirely and there's the tinny sound of some pop-punk band this time. You smile at Felix broadly, giving a little wave.
"I quite like this," Oliver says to you, though loud enough for Felix to hear. You nod in agreement. He has the distinct impression that you're both talking about him joining these moments of yours.
Sometimes things change, like your or Oliver will be sitting up with a cigarette or a book, and have the other's head in your lap, or one of you will be on the floor by the bed, and Felix learns not to worry, that you needed to simply not be touched in that moment. Sometimes that lasts all night, and Felix worries about either of you sleeping on the floor, but you both assure him it's normal.
Felix learns that Oliver likes playing with Felix's hair just as much as he liked getting his hair played with. He learns to identify whose taste in music is whose each time judging by the album chosen. He also learns how clingy you get, and how responsive you are to soothing touches; those are his favourite nights, with Oliver comfortable and content by his side, looking up at the ceiling and enjoying the music, while you're pressed up against Felix's side, head on his chest to listen to the heartbeat he keeps much steadier than he'd been able to that first night. His arm is around you and you have your own slung over him, legs tangled up with his, all but melting into him as he runs his fingers up and down your spine in a soothing, repetitive rhythm. You're practically purring.
These nights are quiet, he doesn't remember the last time any of the three of you spoke after Oliver's quiet aside on that second night. He gets used to the serenity, the lack of expectations, and comes to understand and appreciate just how badly you both need these moments. He doesn't think he needs them in quite the same way, but his head starts to spin when he realises that you both have started needing him there in these moments.
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Dance of Wolf and Raven: Prologue
Hi guys, this is the new Romance serial novel I've started featuring our mother, Adelina!
There'll be new chapters every Friday on Patreon, that are already scheduled and primed to release using Patreon's scheduler thingy every Mountain Standard Time 4pm.
There's currently 11k words written to give me a head start, of which 2 chapters are released.
A lot of it came about due to the worldbuilding spree I went on last year, and since I didn't want any of it to go to waste nor include it in the main game cause of bloat or fatigue, thought this was a good idea to do it!
So without further ado, here's the prologue!
Dance of Wolf and Raven: Prologue
It is the winter of 599 A.L.
Almost 600 hundred years have passed since the Belthean people landed upon these shores.
600 years After Landfall.
600 years of blood and conquest.
Today, just weeks before the turning of a new century, the continent of Nareth is unified by way of the spear.
And her father is to blame.
"Princess?" A familiar voice whispers worriedly.
Adelina, youngest princess of the Belthean Empire turns to her lady-in-waiting, Lady Valerie. She waits for her to continue.
Lady Valerie fidgets, her eyes looking everywhere within the carriage except the princess, who offers the nervous girl a hand on her knee. "Speak Valerie, there's no one else in here but us two."
The words and gesture seems to calm her down, though she still gulps before asking, "Was the empress able to…?"
Princess Adelina rolls her eyes as she crumbles back into her seat, a heavy and long sigh escaping her lips. She slumps further and further into her seat before Lady Valerie giggles and helps her sit straight again. But the worried look remains on her face.
Hesitantly, she places her hand upon that of the princess's. Gripping softly, she whispers, "Wrinkling the dress would only serve to anger your father, my lady," she says this sadly, her expression that of defeat.
And defeat it may have well been.
Her mother had tried protesting her daughter's marriage to the Butcher's son, both in public and in private. But her father wanted this alliance badly enough that her mother was ignored and overruled.
Thus, she was betrothed to the prince of a kingdom who had betrayed their allies and sided with her father in his invasion of the western territories.
If that wasn't bad enough, the father of the prince she was to marry had become infamous for massacring entire noble families in a single bloody night. He was known as a cold and emotionless man, ruthless in his decision making. And she was to marry that man's son.
Princess Adelina grips her dress in anger, causing Lady Valerie who notices to bring her close for an embrace.
Again, the princess stifles a sob, refusing to let tears come out. She made a promise to herself that she wouldn't cry.
She had been alone for too long. Abandoned by even her dear brothers who'd always protected her in the imperial palace.
Her eldest brother, Gareth, had fought alongside her betrothed in the war against Lymark, and she had waited for any letter of his to reassure her. Or perhaps express his support in canceling this arranged marriage.
Anything.
But none had arrived.
She didn't know what to make of it, even Daerin her second eldest brother hadn't been able to communicate with her. No one had.
Alone in the capital she had waited.
Her brothers off to wage the war started by her father, later followed by her mother once rumors of a marriage were being whispered at court.
Those shrews for sisters had already married before the invasion to stabilize the empire.
It wasn't long after that she was ordered to ready herself for marriage, but not with a high lord from the empire, or someone she at least liked or knew how to handle.
But with a foreign prince from a kingdom that had betrayed its ally.
She was to be an offering of peace sent by her father, like something that could be given.
Like an object.
The iron inside her heats again.
She straightens herself, gently pushing Lady Valerie off her. She nods thanks to her lady-in-waiting.
'That's right…' she thinks to herself. 'That man pretends I don't exist until he needs a daughter to marry off.'
Her eyes narrow as she focuses on controlling the growing storm within her.
Her mind is set.
The emperor of the greatest nation ever forged, calling for the forgotten and unwanted princess to arrange her marriage without an honor guard. Without scores of retainers. With only one lady-in-waiting, who volunteered.
Only a temporary escort was given.
A single carriage, with a single cart loaded with whatever she could fit inside it.
Lady Valerie had tried defending her father when the journey started.
"Who would dare?" She said.
The princess knew deep within that it made sense. That the lands were now pacified, now moreso than in any other time period.
Who would dare face against the emperor of all Nareth? The king of kings, the Goddess' representative on the mortal plane, and most important of all… the wielder of one of two most powerful weapons in all creation, A'luthean Armor. Handed down throughout the generations by her family, it has impacted the world in numerous ways.
Depending on who is asked, it is either a curse or blessing that only a single member of the imperial bloodline could possess that artifact at a time, as it bonds with that person for life. No other, even with the Ravenea bloodline running through their veins, can use the holy relic crafted by the Goddess Herself for Her Champions during the A'lethic Era.
Her ancestor, Garland the Conqueror, founded the Belthean Empire with it.
Her great-great-grandfather, Emperor Saldwin, used it to bring a nation to its knees, and forced another to become "Imperial Friend and Ally".
These and other such acts forced the Archpriestess to ban the use of such relics in wars, or to proclaim excommunication upon those who broke the decree.
'But how could the Archpriestess force an imperial dynasty to not use its most powerful weapon?' was a question she had asked her tutors when learning of this proclamation.
Excommunication meant losing the accounts, support, legitimacy, and administration provided by the church, but was it enough to stop her family from imposing its will?
She knew it wasn't.
Princess Adelina feels her mind racing once more as she pictures executing her plan, and a small smile sneaks its way across her face.
"Valerie," she rests her left elbow the side of the carriage as she gets her lady-in-waiting's attention, "what can you tell me about the kingdom, or more specifically, my husband-to-be?"
Lady Valerie smiles at the informal use of her name, though she quickly regains her professional demeanor, "Why, you should kno-"
The princess cuts her off, "I'm only refreshing what I know, don't worry," she responds quickly waving a hand dismissively, "Please, think of it as an exercise or an escape from the daily boredom."
Her counterpart rubs her thighs as she knew all too well how uncomfortable it was to travel via carriage for so long a distance.
"Okay…" she replies, a bit absentmindedly as she begins to recount all that she'd learned over the journey to aid the princess.
With smile still in place, the princess innocently presses on, "What's so special about my betrothed?"
Lady Valerie, either ignoring or not catching the tone, answers immediately, "Why, that'd be either his eyes and hair, his status as the future king of Argent, or the fact he belongs to the only other A'luthean bloodline in Nareth."
Princess Adelina excitedly claps her hands, only to lean forward towards her friend, "And what exactly does that mean?"
A knot of worry forms on Lady Valerie's eyebrows as she carefully answers, "… it means he will be given his family's complete set of Blessed Armor, given to their line by the Goddess Herself, the A'luthean Armor of Argent?"
The princess laughs at her friend's textbook answer, "Oh Val! How long did you practice memorizing all that?"
Lady Valerie however saw the change in the princess' face when she gave her answer. "Lina… what exactly are you planning?"
Princess Adelina slowly sits back into her seat, making herself comfortable. "Nothing… just happy to hear my match is of such a Blessed bloodline!"
The smile on her face however, doesn't reach her eyes.
'The Archpriestess could only stop the imperial family from using their A'luthean Armor with the threat of another,' she thinks to herself as she leans back on her seat, her head on the puffed headrest. 'The other belonging to a royal family on the other side of the continent, in the Kingdom of Argent.'
She was to be the wife and queen of the one who would inherit such power, power enough to equal her father.
Princess Adelina was to become Queen Adelina. Here in this foreign kingdom she would be treated with respect. She would ensure it. Never again will she have to be under her father's control, never again will she be discarded and used in the negotiations of men.
And all she had to do was seduce her soon-to-be husband.
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The plan going forward is this. For the sfw thread, at the end of the month ill be posting the Patreon version of the revised demo.
The NSFW KaE Thread will receive the Silverhill Martial Route four weeks after the Patreons receive it.
No deadlines will be publicly given.
I'll be posting and releasing more things as time goes on, thank you!
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