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#i just wish i could enjoy life like others do
doe-eyed-fool · 3 days
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Secret Love, My Escape
Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader
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If nothing else, Lucifer was beyond faithful to his lover. He would do anything for the person he's devoted himself to. He would even risk death, all for the one he loves.
And in turn, his love would do the same...
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You knew this was a foolish idea, terrible even. Sneaking out of Heaven to meet with the demons of hell. If you were ever caught, who knows what punishment you would be given? But you didn't care. You weren't just meeting with any demon, but Lucifer himself.
The love of your life.
He knew it wasn't the best idea, it would end so horribly if Heaven ever finds out. But he couldn't help himself. His love for you was far stronger than his worries.
It wasn't bad to worry, far from it in this situation. But, he couldn't let someone as wonderful as you go. He may live on forever, but he could not go an eternity without you.
He would do anything to see you, even if just for a little while.
Even if it happened like this.
This wasn't the first time you two had done this either. You've went down to Hell quite a few times, it was practically routine at this point. And you were excited every time you got to.
You loved Lucifer more than anything. You cherished him, you never wanted to go a moment without him by your side. The time spent apart, was heartbreaking.
You two are from two separate worlds, after all. Heaven frowns upon the demons and sinners in Hell, but for an angel and the king of Hell to be together like this?
You both knew what Heaven's reaction would be. And it wasn't good for either of you...
But you didn't want to think about that. Right now, you just wanted to enjoy Lucifer's company, in the little time you were granted to visit him.
This time, the two of you were having a bit of a lazy day. Normally, Lucifer would try to keep you entertained, while in the privacy of his palace walls, of course. But today, the two of you just lay together in each other's arms.
You both would talk about nothing in particular, though, you always liked hearing about his daughter Charlie and the hotel, as well as her friends, as weird and wild as they could be.
And of course, there was never a day you visited, that Lucifer didn't talk about his latest duck related creations. You didn't mind at all. You loved seeing his face light up with joy and excitement whenever he talked about them.
"So, I was thinking about making a new rubber duck. One that shoots fireworks from like, a little hat on it's head." Lucifer explains. "There have been some previous attempts, each resulting in a few tiny fires, but! I think I'm getting pretty close to perfecting it!"
You giggle. "Well, I'd love to see it once it's finished." Lucifer smiled, though it quickly vanished as he noticed the time. He sighed, you knew what that meant.
"Already?" You mutter. Lucifer nods, frowning. You sit up and breath a sigh of your own. "It seems our visits just go by faster and faster."
"Yeah..." Lucifer sits up as well. You put your hand on his. "I wish there was a way I could just stay here." As much as Lucifer would have liked to have you with him. He could not bare the thought of you having to be in this terrible place. You were better off in Heaven where you belong...
"Come on, let's get you home before the others notice." Lucifer says. You begrudgingly agreed, your chest already aching, and you haven't even left yet.
If only there were some other way...
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Heaven was nice. No one could deny that. But to you, it never felt more empty without Lucifer. But that's not all. Heaven was nice. On the surface that is. You knew about what the higher ups were hiding though.
Lucifer had told you about the extermination, and the angels that Adam lead down to Hell, in attempts to destroy his daughter's hotel and kill those who called it home.
Speaking of Adam. He was dead, killed in that attack he lead. And of course, Heaven covered that up as well. So long as the citizens of Heaven were happy and unaware, there would be no chaos. No panic.
No questioning...
You knew better than to try and reveal Heaven's lies. You were only one person, after all. Though, the people of Heaven deserved to know just what kind of "paradise" they were living in.
That would only result in you being placed on trial, and eventually being forced out of Heaven.
However, speaking up would not be what caused for such a thing to happen.
No, unfortunately, you would be placed on trial, for something you'd hope you'd never be accused of.
"Y/n, for your sake, you'd better speak only the truth in this courtroom."
The head seraphim's eyes were cold and unforgiving as she looks down at you. You could only look back at her with panic, and a terrible twisting feeling in your chest.
"Have you been sneaking off down to Hell?" She asks. You open your mouth to speak, but your voice would not find you. Instead, you nod. The seraphim's eyes narrow. "And how exactly have you managed this?"
Still unable to speak, you cast your gaze downward. The seraphim's voice caused you to flinch, as she spoke your name with such venom in her voice.
"Y/n."
You look back up at her, defeated. "Sera. I think you know how..." You say weakly. Sera sighed. "This is entirely unheard of. Lucifer isn't just some ordinary demon. He is the king of of all evil. Risking your place in Heaven for him, is beyond foolish."
Your brows furrow. She speaks of Lucifer like he is some sort of monster. And you will not have it.
"You don't know anything about him." You start. "Not truly. Lucifer may be the king of Hell, but he is nothing like a demon. Deep down, he's still an angel. And you all refuse to see it, all because you do not understand him!"
You were going to be punished anyway. Might as well speak your mind.
"I love him! And I'd rather fall than go an eternity without him, and be stuck here knowing that Heaven is a scam!"
Sera looked at you silently for a moment before turning away. "Then so be it."
Your arms were suddenly being restrained by two exorcist, a third walking up behind you, sword in hand. Then you felt it...
The feeling of your wings being torn from you. You cried in agony, the sound of them falling to the ground with a thud nearly made you sick. Your arms were released, and you began to fall back.
Only you did not hit the floor, instead, you continued to fall and fall for what felt like forever.
Until finally, you collied with solid, hard ground...
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When you opened your eyes, pain was the first thing you felt. Your back throbbed and your body ached. But you managed to pick yourself up, just barely keeping yourself standing.
You take a look around, and then up at the blood red sky. Yep, this was definitely Hell. You look back ahead, far in the distance, you could make out a building. Not just any building, a hotel.
You felt a twinge of hope as you start off in that direction. If this was indeed that hotel, you might have a better chance of finding Lucifer than you think.
Lucifer had started spending more time at his daughter's hotel than his own home as of recently. Only being at the palace for when you visited. If you were going to find him anywhere, it'd be there.
You walked for a long while before you finally reached the hotel. Just before the entrance is where you fell to your knees, exhausted. Your body was crying for rest, but your mind was racing. You couldn't give up now. You were so close.
Just as exhaustion started to fully set in, the doors to the hotel opened. And you make out a figure in the door way. Their voice was muffled, but you recognized just who the voice belonged to immediately.
"I'll be back shortly, Charlie! Just have to grab a few more things from home."
You forced yourself to stand, ignoring the new wave of pain and drowsiness that washed over you. Your voice cracked as you called out.
"Lucifer?"
It was indeed Lucifer. He turned his head in your direction, his eyes wide as he noticed it was you. He stood there for a moment, unable to think or speak clearly.
Was his mind playing tricks on him? How were you here? Why were you here?
You smile slightly and take a step forward. "Lucifer...Lucifer!" You cried running towards him with open arms. You stumbled slightly, but Lucifer caught you.
"Y/n...What are you doing here?"
You held onto him tightly, tears forming in your eyes. "I...I just couldn't stay away." You say before pulling away to look up at him. Lucifer stared back at you with concern, but mostly confusion. Just as he went to speak again, you leaned in and met your lips with his.
Lucifer became less tense as he melted into the kiss. He didn't know how this was happening. He was still trying to process you standing in front of him right now.
You pull back, smiling as you look him in the eyes. You move your hand up to his cheek. "I love you."
Lucifer opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as he felt something warm on his palm. He moved his hand off of your back, and his heart dropped at the sight of gold staining his hand.
"Y/n...Don't tell me they..."
You leaned in and rest your head on his chest. "I'm so tired Lucifer...Just, don't let me sleep for too long. Ok?"
"Y/n!?" Lucifer's panic grew as you went limp in his arms. How could he not have noticed right then?
Your wings were missing.
There was no time to ponder it now, he scooped you up into his arms and teleported back to the palace. No one else needed to gaze upon your blood, it would only raise questions and attract unwanted attention.
As soon as you two were behind closed doors, Lucifer stripped away the top of your outfit, grimacing slightly at the sight of the two long tears on your back.
He placed his hands on your back gently and inhaled. A warm glow emanated from his palms that spread throughout your back.
"Come on...Stay with me Y/n." He whispered desperately.
After a few seconds, the glow faded. He moved his hands away, the wound was fully healed. But you were still motionless.
"Y/n, please. Please come back to me." Lucifer holds you close to him, cradling your head with one hand, the other at your waist. "Please...Please don't leave me..."
Lucifer held you for hours after that, refusing to let you go or leave your side for even a second. The only hope he held onto, was the faint breathing that came from you.
He blamed himself for this. He should have just left you alone. He should have never snuck you down here like he did, for as long as he did. He should have just pushed you away.
At least then, you'd be safe.
"I'm so sorry, Y/n." Lucifer said softly. "You were hurt because of me. You fell because of me. And now, you're stuck here. And it's all my fault..."
"I'm such an idiot." Lucifer closed his eyes, tears stinging at his eyes.
"Luci...don't talk so badly about yourself."
Lucifer shot up, looking down at you with wide eyes. "Y/n?" You smile and slowly open your eyes. "Hi."
Lucifer felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. Though, he couldn't stop smiling. He sniffled a few times. "H-Hi!" He chuckles. His laughter was quickly cut short.
"Y/n. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I never meant for you to be damned to his awful place. You should be up in Heaven, in paradise. Not down here with all the evil and scum that Hell has to offer."
"Lucifer." You start. "It's not paradise. Especially not without you. I never would have been happy alone up there. It killed me anytime I had to leave you."
"But now you're stuck here forever." Lucifer says weakly. You kiss his cheek. "We're here together."
Lucifer brought you in a closer embrace. You speak again. "Thank you for healing me, Luci. I'm sorry if I scared you." Lucifer shook his head. "I'm just glad you're alive. But..." Lucifer draws back to look at you. "Are you ok with this?"
"Of course I am. You're here, and now, I'm here. I love you way too much for it to be any other way."
Lucifer smiled and kissed you softy. "I love you too."
The two of you enjoyed each other's embrace that night. Only this time, moments like this would be forever.
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m4tthewmurd0ck · 3 days
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IN EVERY UNIVERSE
── Azriel x Fem!Reader
(i try to be as non descriptive as possible but do use she / her, and mention reader being shorter than all the guys.)
CHAPTER ── INTRODUCTION
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Ever since you were little, books have been your escape. Whether it was needing to get away from a bad day at school or an immature fight with a friend when you were a kid, or a rough day at work as you got older, reading allowed you to temporarily forget all of that.
You imagine what the characters might look like, you dream up scenarios for them that don’t happen in the books. And like so many others who do the exact same thing, you can’t help but wish characters were real so that they could sweep you off your feet. Ugh, what you wouldn’t give to have a certain one-armed super soldier call you doll.
You thought the MCU was where you wanted to exist the most… and then you were introduced to ACOTAR.
It didn’t take long at all for you to become another one of the many girls to fall for Azriel. You dreamt of what he might look like. And of course, knew he’d fall in love with you. Would you guys follow the enemies-to-lovers trope? Childhood best friends turned significant others? Or would it be a love-at-first sight moment for the shadowsinger, who would do everything in his power to get you to notice him? The answer depended on your mood, of course.
As much as you loved to fantasize, you also knew you had to be realistic. Azriel didn’t actually exist, at least not in your world.
One night, you even go so far as to convince yourself that all the hopeless dreaming had to stop. From that moment on, you’d still enjoy books, but you wanted to do your best to stop imagining a life for yourself in worlds you’d never get to visit.
It’s definitely easier said than done, but you go to bed that night confident that it’s the right thing to do.
Only, when you wake up the next morning… something is off. This isn’t your bedroom. The clothes you’re wearing, you’ve never seen before. And why does the man that has just entered your room look exactly like how you pictured Azriel?
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i am so excited for this!!! this will have multiple parts. i have the entire general plot mapped out from start to finish BUT am unsure of how many chapters there’ll be in total. sometimes i picture a chapter being short but then it ends up being way longer.
IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THIS SERIES TAGLIST, LET ME KNOW! (you can specify just this series, or all things Azriel)
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k-n0-x · 2 days
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༺ ♱✮♱ ¨:·Something Stupid-Chapter 4·:¨ ♱✮♱ ༻
A/N: Hey guys! I managed to get this chapter out early coz I am so hot and amazing at everything my social life is at an all time low and we have Easter break. Some foreshadowing if you guys can guess, but keep it to yourselves for now. Mommy issues y/n? That’s a first 😨😨😨😨. This chapter is also Lucifer basically being: “No, you’re so sexy haha don’t cry”
Also, the slow burn is burning now! YAYYA 🎉
Playlist:
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Enjoy! <3
꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🦢♕✶💫☾🥀꧂
You sit on the patio of your home, feeling as though you’re rotting away. 
It’s been 5 days since Adam’s full blown out tantrum, but it feels like it’s been 5 lifetimes. 
A cockatiel lands on your table, its bulging inky eyes staring at you, vying for your attention. 
You laugh, and give it some crumbs of your leftover toast from breakfast that you couldn’t bear to finish.
The bird eats them graciously, and flies away, you watching enviously. 
Oh, how you wished you were that bird. Carefree, and not trapped in the gilded cage that you are in. 
If only… 
Bzz bzz
Your phone rings. The contact Mom glows on your screen. 
Unwillingly, you swipe right. 
“Hey mom, what's up?” This woman never calls you, unless there are three instances; she needs you to get her something of monetary worth, wishing you a happy birthday/any other significant holiday, or-
“Darling, there's something I need to talk to you about. A little birdie told me that you've been stepping out of line recently~” 
Ah yes. The third instance. The times when your actual fucking personality shows, even for a sliver of a moment, and how it  could potentially hurt your ‘relationship’ with Adam. 
“Mom, it's not that big of a deal. I just was feeling rough recently, and-”
“Well it doesn't matter what you feel does it? What matters is that you honour our family. Being married to Adam is what's best for you. You acting outwardly is seriously jeaprodising your relationship, and I am just trying to help you stop before it's too late,” Your maternal figure’s sing-song-like voice turns sharp in an instant, like it could cut through butter. 
“You were always a wild child, a disappointment, I am trying to help you-”
You interrupt. 
“How are you helping?! Belittling me, treating me as some sort of– some do Ill?! I have tried, given my whole entire fucking life, trying to please you in every way, but somehow, it's never enough! And when I do fuck up, suddenly I'm a failure in your eyes?!” 
Silence.
“You better mind your language young lady,”
“NO! I will NOT mind my FUCKING LANGUAGE. I will  swear when I want to, and I will do whatever I FUCKING WANT! I AM DONE WITH YOU AND YOU- YOUR WAY OF THINGS!” 
You press the end button, calmly. 
You storm up to your bedroom and closed the door. Calmly.
You look at the bookshelf, always so perfectly clean, scarce of dust. 
Perfectly clean, no imperfections. 
You let out a cry of irritation and just start throwing out books, ripping the pages of each, crumpling sheets of paper, sobbing hot angry tears while doing so. 
When that was done, you just bring the entire bookshelf down with a bang, and you stomp on it until you feel a sharp pain in your foot, surely that's a splinter right there. 
You stumble over into your bed and scream and cry in your pillow, amongst the mess.
You submerge yourself in your pillow even more, until your anger numbs away, leaving you with a throbbing pain in your head. 
Absolutely drained from your outburst, you drift off. 
꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂
Everywhere is foggy. 
You look around, looking for anything of use, when your attention is turned to a glowing light, placed on a rusted pedestal. 
Since it's the only thing that piques interest, you touch the fluorescent ball and yelp when it scorches your hand.
“Ow,” you pull your hand away and decide to look for anything else. 
As you trek through the nothingness, you  feel like you're being tugged down by an anchor, or treading through quicksand. 
Suddenly, the ground gives way under your feet. 
You’re falling. 
The cold air whistles through your ears. 
You try to fly with your wings, but nothing; it feels like they have been ruthlessly ripped from your body.
You feel as though you're being stretched, squished and deformed like play dough, until you hear and feel something cracking. As you fall, you look towards the light. 
At the entrance of the hole, there are many, unidentifiable figures, just, staring at your downfall. 
You want to scream and cry for help, but it feels like your mouth has been cemented shut. 
A faint noise calls your name, which sounds closer and closer each time as you fall helplessly. 
You make a successful-ish attempt to turn on your stomach. 
In your horror, you see a halo, cracked and muted of its previous glow. Your halo.
Not that far below you, there are hot red coals. 
Oh God. 
The voice becomes louder and closer and you hit the ground with a scream. 
You jump up, to find yourself back in the dump that is your bedroom, slicked with sweat. 
“Oh my God, Y/N! Are you alright?” Emily, who was tentatively paving the way to get to your pathetic self. 
“Emi, hi… Yeah, just eh, rough day,” you smile weakly at the Seraphim, who’s concerned expression shows that she doesn't believe you, but she doesn’t want to put you under pressure.
“What’s all of this?” Emily motions to the wrecked room.  
“Adam pulled a tantrum again?” 
“Huh? Oh that, nono, sorry uhm,” you pause to clean the room as it was with the snap of your fingers.
“Why are you here Emi? Do you need something?” You wipe your eyes, but your bloodshot eyes are still apparent. 
“No, I just wanted to hang out with you, but I can come back if it's a bad time,” The Seraphim stumbles over her words as she looks up at you, slightly flushing.
“No, no you can stay. I’m just a little bit shaken up, but yep you can stay. Uhm….” you trail off. 
This place is feels really constraining
You need an escape. 
“Hey Emily, wanna go on an adventure?” You put on a face of newfound enthusiasm. The Seraphim just had that effect on people.
“Of course! But er, where?” 
“Shh, it's a surprise, now let's go!” You push Emily into the portal you made and go in yourself. 
꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂
“Woah, this is what it's like?” Emily says as she looks around the hellish landscape like a lost puppy.
She snaps out of it when you drag her out of the way of a thrown carcass headed towards the both of you. 
“Yeah, let's head inside,” You manoeuvre her into the hotel. 
The lobby is more populated than your last visits to the establishment, though all faces are familiar. 
“Emily, meet Angel, Husk Alastor, Charlie, who you know already, and-” Your voice dies down in your throat at the sight of the Demon King, with his strapping jacket and top hat. 
What is going on with you today? 
“And Lucifer,” You motion to the King, who gives you both an acknowledging nod. 
Your heart misses a beat. 
“Well uh, there's one more but I don't know where she is… WOAH NIFFTY!”
The little scamp runs towards the Seraphim with a knife about to stab her with malicious intent. 
“Niffty, no. No stabbing any more angels we talked about this,” Angel grabs the knife from the housemaid and throws it in the trash can. 
“Ugh, not a bad boy,” Nifty grumbles and begrudgingly rushes off to god knows where. 
“Well everyone, this is Emily, not sure if Charlie has told you about her but-”
“Is she your kid?” Angel asks. 
“I’m sorry, what? Oh no, no she is not my kid pff,” you say. 
“Huh,”
“Well as I was trying to say, Emily here is another person on our side,” You give Emi an encouraging squeeze of the shoulders. 
“Well this is quite the improvement. Salutations! Pleasure to meet you,” The radio demon greets himself, extending his hand to shake Emily's. 
She takes it, though cautious. 
She turns to Charlie and warms up to the amicable face. 
“Hi, Emily, er obviously you know who I am,” The princess of Hell welcomes her, as some of the other Hotel residents go off doing their own thing. 
“Oh yes. Y/N told me about you, obviously we've met before, but under less casual circumstances,” Emily scrambles for conversation. 
Obviously, they need a little push to loosen up with each other. 
“Charlie, maybe show Emily the garden? Or maybe the entire hotel for that matter. Emi here has been dying to have a look around,” 
“Oh yes! Let me show you some of the suites, I decorated them myself,” Filled with giddiness, Charlie beckons the Seraphim upstairs.  
Emily turns to you, unsure. 
“Go on, don't worry, I'll be waiting here!” You give her a persuasive smile and shoo the pair upstairs. 
Now you had some time to kill…
“Hey!” 
“Agh!” You jump at the voice of Lucifer. 
“Geez, am I that scary?” He laughs and puts a hand on your shoulder. 
“Pff as if-” You snicker and give him a playful shove back.
“Anyway, how've you been? How's the old rusted machine been?”
“Are you always going to make digs and remarks at my husband in an attempt to get all three of his wives in your pants?” You raise an eyebrow sarcastically.
He sighs, feigning sorrow. “You know me too well. I thought it was the perfect plan, but clearly I'll have to tune it a bit,” The demon rattles on, but your brain fixates on the one word he said. 
Perfect. 
Something you try so, so hard to be, but apparently isn't enough for your mom. 
If your mom doesn't love you as you are. 
Well, what's to say anyone can? 
“Well, what do you say, Butter-Duck? You have to find a nickname for me, but I'll call you that regardless, hmm?”
His question brings you back to the conversation. 
Which, leads you to ugly, fat tears. 
Lucifer’s face contorts into panic. 
“Wait, I'm sorry, it's was a rubbish nickname, sorry I thought it was funny-” He puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. 
“No, no it's not that,” You rub your eyes, your voice croaky. 
“The reason is quite silly, really, it's fine, I'm just being stupid hahha,”
Lucifer is not convinced. 
“Listen, you helped me out the other day, and even though I'm not good at this comforting stuff, please, at least let me listen,” He gives you a weak, gorgeous smile, one that is enough to make you stop crying about. 
Okay, it's really becoming an issue of you being distracted by…
Him.
“Well, just an argument with my mom; basically just her saying how much of a disappointment I am and-” your voice creaks.
“And?”
“And I suddenly just don’t feel like her daughter,just a burden she has to put up with, and then what’s the point of all of this if you're not perfect,” 
And breathe. 
You put your face in your hands. 
“I’ll never find love,” 
“Hang on, but isn't Adam your husband? Don't you love him?” 
“No, I don't. It was a marriage purely organised by my parents. Completely transactional,” you mutter dejectedly. 
“Shit, that really sucks. Listen, I know it's hard to hear, but you need to hear it. Nobody is perfect. No one. That's what makes people interesting. And your mom wanting you to be that is far from perfect of her. Not sure if you're aware, but we're in Hell, right now, amongst many people who are basically morality rejects. But you, you're a Winner. Not in the physical sense, but also metaphorically. And for what it's worth…” Lucifer takes a moment to mull over his next words. 
“Many people love you, like Charlie and, that Seraphim, Emilia?”
“Emily” You amend. 
“Anyway, that's besides the point. The point is that you have many people that adore you, and that's what matters most,” Lucifer comes closer and stiffly puts his arms around you, which you return. 
“Thank you, Lucifer,” You sniffle into his shoulder. 
“No problem, anytime. You are my friend after all,” He gently smiles.
Your heart flutters. Friend? As in, person he considers more than an acquaintance? 
“So, what's this about a Butter-Duck?” You tease. 
“What? I thought it'd be a cool nickname for you,” He huffs. 
“Alright, alright… Let me think of a nickname for you then… Lulu!” 
He grimaces. “Ugh, that sounds like a name for a baby products brand!”
“Oddly specific, but if it annoys you more, all the better!” 
“Ugh, you're like worst than some sinners here I swear,” 
“Who said Angel’s can't be jokesters too?” You give him a wink. 
He coughs, a rosy red complexion appearing on his face.
꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂
Emily and Charlie come back into the lobby, to you and Lucifer making small talk on the couch. 
“Ready to go?”
 Emily nods. She goes to hugs Charlie, which is reciprocated. 
“Well, I’ll see you around?” You squeeze the demon’s king hand. 
He looks at you, and nods, hesitant to return the gesture, as if you were glass. 
“Yes, I will,” 
As you and Emily leave to make your way back to Heaven, you could've sworn you heard Lucifer whisper three words. 
“I love you,” 
You turn back with a questioning expression, but all that was on his face was nonchalance.
꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🐣♕✶💫☾🥀꧂
Word count- 2,194~
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@froggybich
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declareqenius · 1 day
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all the ashes in my wake
summary: part two of "some would sing and some would scream". wanda and natasha have several heated conversations while they wait for you to wake up. it's been days and both of them miss hearing your voice, and they know the last thing you would want to see is them fighting, but wanda can't help tearing into natasha for everything that happened. natasha's guilt eats away at her.
warnings: mentions of the violence in pt 1, coma
a/n: guys i really just wanted to get this one out. i haven't read through it/edited it so any mistakes are... well, mistakes. but hey! we get wanda in this one! i feel like i could have gone a little darker as far as wandanat are concerned, but we do what we can! i hope you enjoy!
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The infirmary room is cold and sterile and a heaviness settles over the exhausted woman. Wanda keeps hold of your hand as if letting it go means that you'll slip away for good. She's careful of the IV stuck in the back of your hand giving you fluids. In a way, it serves as a reminder that blood still flows through your veins and your heart still beats, and that even though your bright smile and musical laugh don't fill the room, you're still alive.
Wanda brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. She doesn't know how many times she has done that in the past three days, but the gesture comforts her. Tucking your hair behind your ear so she can see your beautiful face better and looking into your sparkling eyes is one of her favorite things to do. Your gaze holds so much love and adoration and it always makes her wish she would never have to live without it.
Your eyes are closed now.
Wanda hates every second of it.
Bruce said that even if you don't respond that you can still hear everything. Wanda trusts that he's telling the truth and it wasn't something he said just to make her feel better.
So she talks to you. About anything and everything she can think of. Your favorite TV show that is on the air right now or the book that you recommended and she finally read. How much she loves you and how she can't wait for you to wake up. How sorry she is that she wasn't there sooner. She makes promises that she intends to uphold. Ones about revenge and torture and everything you would hate and tell her not to worry about were you conscious. Wanda smiles at the thought. She won't listen, though. The Celestials hurt her family. Hurt the love of her life. She can't let that go unanswered for.
Right now, though, you are her priority.
The door handle clicks and Wanda doesn't need to look up. She knows it's Natasha coming back from telling Steve and Yelena what happened. Can feel the exhaustion and guilt dripping from her without having to so much as glance in her direction.
"Wands-"
"I don't want to talk to you right now, Natalia. Sit."
Wanda nods to the unoccupied chair on the other side of the bed without taking her eyes off of you. She's being harsh and she knows it. Natasha was there with you. Right by your side. Made to watch as the leader of their enemies hurt you in the most sloppily calculated way. She was powerless against Najma and Wanda knows this, but all rationality left her when she burst into the cell and laid eyes on your bleeding body, slumped over, barely an ounce of life in you, and her anger nearly consumed her.
She almost leveled the entire block.
The only thing that stopped her was Natasha, carrying you in her arms, reminding her that time was scarce.
So yes, perhaps she is being too harsh with her wife, but somehow you had become their entire lives. Their reason for being. Neither of them would know what to do without you, and they came very close to losing you under Natasha's watch.
They will be okay eventually. They survived many fights and many arguments before you came along.
Tears form in Wanda's eyes.
"Yelena is wondering when she'll be able to see Y/N." Natasha's voice breaks the silence. It's rough and scratchy.
"After she wakes up."
Four words and Wanda can feel how they form on her tongue. Her Sokovian accent is thick with her anger and distress despite the words being spoken soft and firm.
"Wanda," Natasha starts to protest but the finality in her wife's tone makes her go quite.
"Nat."
It's then that Wanda decides to look up at Natasha. Decides to let her wife see her and every emotion that makes its way onto her face and every thought that swirls around in her mind.
Natasha pauses for a moment, taken aback by everything she sees her wife going through. The made-up scenarios. The what-ifs. She knows because she went through every last one of them when she was in that cell with you. To see the same thoughts cluttering Wanda's mind, well, it only makes her guilt worse.
She clears her throat, "Yelena is her best friend."
It comes out as more of a fact than an argument.
At that, Wanda turns her attention back to you, "I don't want anyone except for us and Bruce to see her like this. They don't need to."
"They want to know that she's okay, Wands."
"Tell them that she is. That she will be. That's all they need to know for right now. They need to focus on getting the jump on Najma and the Celestials. Our focus is Y/N. I think our family is capable enough to come up with a plan by themselves, don't you?"
Wanda's calmness is starting to make Natasha uncomfortable and she shifts in her chair. She refuses to touch you, though, afraid of what might happen if she did. Would your body crumble under her fingertips? If you were conscious would your body recoil at her touch? For letting you get hurt. For not protecting you like she should have.
Suddenly streams of tears silently make their way down Natasha's cheeks.
"I'm sorry I let this happen."
Wanda's eyes meet hers again and Natasha feels like she can breathe a little easier. It isn't perfect and she guesses it won't be perfect for a long time, but time will help. The fear will linger within both of them because Natasha knows Wanda almost as well as she knows herself, and she knows that neither of them will be letting you out of their sight for a while after you wake up. Until Najma is taken care of, at least.
Wanda tilts her head as she tries to get a better read on Natasha without using her powers. Even if they would help in the moment she has rules for herself: never on Natasha and never on you.
"They caught you off guard. It is a hard position to be in, radnaja."
Darling. The pet name helps Natasha relax a little more, but her hands stay folded in her lap.
"We needed- I needed to protect her better. We promised to keep her safe and I couldn't do that, Wands. I failed her and I disappointed you and... and what if she decides to leave when she wakes up? I would be the reason we came so close to losing her... and then to actually lose her? I don't know if we could survive it."
"Nat... Y/N loves us with everything she is. Just as we love her. I need you to be confident in that."
Natasha wants to scoff but instead she fidgets with her hands, "Confident? In what, Wanda? That she'll wake up and we'll pretend everything is fine and that we're not the reason she almost fucking died?! That the two people she loves most in the world couldn't protect her like they promised they would? I was powerless Wanda! I couldn't stop them! I-" Natasha's tears flow freely and although the tension in the room is building, she feels safe enough to let herself go in the presence of her wife, "I couldn't save her!"
"Natalia Romanova-Maximoff!" Wanda stands for the first time in hours but she does not drop your hand. It's the only thing grounding her right now. "This is not entirely your fault, radnaja. Maybe if you would have kicked and punched more when they took you then we would be in a different position. Maybe if you had given Najma the answers she was looking for then Y/N wouldn't have been injured as badly as she is but these are all what-ifs, Natasha! What if I had been there with her instead? What if I had been with both of you that night? What if I would have gotten to you sooner? What if she had died!"
Finally, the question that has been on both of their minds since Bruce had walked into the meeting room with your blood all over his neatly ironed button up and jeans- he didn't have time to even think about putting his lab coat on- and told them that you would eventually be okay.
"I have been asking myself that question every day for the past three days," Wanda finishes, salt on her tongue, nose red, and her scarlet hoodie stained with tears.
Natasha cannot find it within herself to tell her wife the new information Bruce gave her in the meeting. While he operated and stitched until he could barely stand any longer; you flatlined once. Your heart decided to give up for a minute and Natasha hasn't had the proper amount of time to process something like that, but the time would never come for Wanda to be able to process the reality of such a thing.
Both women stare down at you with puffy eyes and red noses. You are the most precious thing in the world to them. They hate seeing you so lifeless, and the only wave of hope keeping them afloat is your steady breaths.
The fight has left both of them, but an air of tension remains. They are nowhere near finished with their conversation. With taking their frustrations out. Hopefully they'll have everything figured out before you wake up. Natasha knows how much you hate playing peacemaker when they actually have fights and really get going at each other, but she also knows that her wife can hold a grudge.
She doesn't think Wanda will actually hold a grudge after you wake up, but for now her anger and grief towards Natasha are the only things emotionally anchoring her to reality.
"I miss her, Wands," Natasha sniffs and wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.
"Me too, Natalia. Me too."
They sit in silence for a minute, taking everything in. There are no windows in the room and during the day that means zero sunlight. You always say that time in the sun is one of the most important parts of your daily routine, and it always helps you cool down when you're stressed out or in a bad mood.
Natasha is the first to break the silence, speaking directly to you.
"You are going to hate this room so much when you wake up, detka," she muses with the smallest smile.
Wanda only glances at her before turning her attention back to you and sitting down in her chair, trapped in her mind just as Natasha is, but not all hope is lost and for that, the older woman is grateful.
"Believe it or not, she was the calm one. During everything."
"Natasha."
Her name is said softly although there is still a warning behind it, but she needs this and she believes that Wanda does too. Even if she doesn't know it yet.
"Please, Wanda."
Wanda just sighs and nods, never taking her eyes off of you.
"Najma had me struggling within ten minutes. Begged her to take me instead and to let Y/N go. I don't know why I thought it would work, but I think I just wanted Y/N to know that even if I couldn't get us out of there in that moment... I was trying. I would keep trying."
Natasha's voice is still scratchy as her exhaustion slowly catches up with her.
"Y/N was so firm with me. She said not to tell Najma anything and she meant it. I don't think I've ever heard her be that direct before, but she left no room for argument. She knew what the information would do to the family because she... she sees us as her family, Wands." The redhead sniffs and wipes at her eyes when her tears return, making a prominent trail down her cheeks.
"We are all she has left and she means the world to us! And... and I let her down so much. So, so much, Wanda. She stayed so calm! She did so good! She talked to Najma. She had a conversation with the woman who had a knife to her cheek!" Natasha's laugh is reserved, but her features are shock-ridden and amazed, bordering on flabbergasted and anxiety-filled.
Wanda finally looks up at her wife. Natasha is starting to spiral and there is no way to stop it other than just letting her get it all out, so the Sokovian keeps listening to and watching her wife. The recount of events is told with animated hand gestures and tears gliding down Natasha's cheeks, and Wanda's heart clenches.
"We were doing so well. She was doing so well. Then, Najma stabbed her and my heart dropped. I thought it was over. I thought we had lost her for good." The hand gestures come to an abrupt halt and the tension in the room is once again palpable, but not so much as before.
Natasha looks down at you with pleading eyes, "Please forgive me, malyshka," she drops to both knees and finally takes your hand in hers and whispers, "please."
She kisses the back of your hand delicately and you can feel each tear drop as they land in the exact spot she kissed. There is no need to wonder why your girlfriend is crying. You remember everything.
Your eyes slowly blink open to see Natasha's own eyes closed and Wanda staring at her wife with a thoughtful expression. The love they have for each other makes you want to smile, but the urge to reassure your sobbing mob boss girlfriend wins.
"I..." talking hurts but you need to say the words. Natasha needs to know! "Forgive... you. Always... Natty."
112 notes · View notes
vixstarria · 2 days
Text
Bloodbang Chronicles
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Chapter 1
Series summary:
Five years have passed since the confrontation with the Netherbrain. Astarion and his warlock lover, Asmodea, are living it up in Baldur’s Gate, running a cabaret. Their life of decadence and debauchery seems idyllic, until Asmodea’s patron disrupts it with a proposal. One that seems too good to be true. One they cannot refuse.
Pairing: Astarion x Original Female Character
Genre: Humor / adventure / smut (not all in this chapter), with all the usual Astarion-related elements along the way, without getting too heavy
Rating: Explicit
Chapter word count: 2,700
Updates weekly if I can help it
This is a post-game continuation of my bardlock series, which was mostly written in 2nd person POV, with the OC referred to as “Tav” where they had to be named. Rest assured it’s been about Asmodea all along. You can consider the oneshots a prequel. I will still add on to them until I’ve covered the in-game events.
AO3 | Overall masterlist
Thank you @brabblesblog for beta reading! ♥
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“It’s not my bloody problem you’re bored,” the woman muttered, coming down the backstairs and into the kitchen. 
She wore a silk kimono robe, red hair in a dishevelled bun, traces of yesterday’s makeup still smudged under her eyes.
“And I just woke up, how exactly did you expect me to entertain you while I was sleeping anyway?” she continued.
At times dealing with her patron felt like handling a petulant child. What a disturbing thought… She wasn’t particularly fond of children, petulant or otherwise.
Other times, the patron raved like a lunatic, or lectured her like a child, or just giggled maniacally, or, on occasion, even shared surprisingly astute and helpful observations or advice.
But just then, she wished it would simply be quiet, or better yet - gone from her head entirely, at least until the pounding subsided.
Last night had been… a bit much.
I’m getting too old for this, she thought idly, before brushing the thought aside. Being a half-elf, it was another 100 years or so before she really had reason to worry about her age. Provided nothing killed her by then, of course.
She poured herself some coffee from a pot mercifully brewed by the kitchen staff just earlier. They were used to the hours she kept.
“Can’t you go play with the other fey..? Torture some elves, turn some mortals into trees and then piss on them, or whatever it is your kind do? Shoo!” She hissed at her patron, turning into the bar section of the establishment. It was only mid-afternoon, a few hours still before it opened. Perhaps she could enjoy some peace and quiet there, alone with her coffee.
“…she must work here…” she overhead a hushed murmur coming from a nearby booth. Lifting her eyes from her mug, she saw two faces peering at her in curiosity.
Two young faces, plastered with paints and powders with the vigour, determination and skill of little girls that had just gotten into their mothers’ makeup bags for the very first time. No doubt they tried to sneak in early to avoid paying admission. 
Again? she rolled her eyes inwardly. Very well. Watch this, then.
“Ah! You must be here for the interview?” she asked brightly, approaching the booth.
There was, of course, no interview, and the two girls - a blonde and a brunette - simply looked at each other, no doubt wondering whether this was a good lie to try to latch on to. They weren’t thinking very quickly, as they still hadn’t managed to produce any response by the time the woman made herself comfortable in the booth with them. At least they didn't seem to question the idea of being interviewed by a hungover loon in a dressing gown. It may have been the norm in this establishment, for all they knew.
“Um… Yes.” The blonde finally spoke, taking the bait that was offered. “We’re looking for work in the evenings, perhaps? We’re from the academy, you see…”
“I see…” the woman hummed, sipping her coffee. “First years?”
“Third”, the brunette said proudly.
Old enough to be here then, at least.
“And so you’ve come here,” the woman stated. “May I ask why? Shouldn’t you be tutoring other fine young ladies? Or perhaps scribing? Anything that’s not so lowbrow, really.”
She continued to sip her coffee, waiting to see what they would come up with. Their cogs were turning painfully slow, to her disappointment.
“Oh no, not at all…” The blonde stammered. “We’ve heard such wonderful things about the owners.”
“Have you now?” The woman couldn’t help but laugh. “What have you heard?”
‘Wonderful’ was hardly a word that might ever have been used to describe anything about them.
“Is it true that the proprietor is a vampire?” the brunette blurted out, finally, as her friend glared at her.
Ah, there we go, to the point at last…
“Why do you ask?” The woman smiled into her mug.
A figure appeared behind the bar as she spoke. It moved silently, wrapped head to toe in a maroon silk sheet, searching through the bar’s selection of wines. The girls did not see it, both facing the opposite direction.
“Well…” the brunette perked up. “We’ve heard some rumours… And wanted to know if they were true. …And whether what they say about vampires is true.”
“Oh? What do they say?” The woman leaned in conspiratorially.
The brunette bit her lip, suddenly unsure whether to continue. The woman found herself growing impatient.
“What is it you really want to know?” She asked, leaning a little further in, penetrating the brunette with her gaze. “You can tell me.”
Something in the swirl of the woman’s irises enticed the girl. Yes, of course she could tell her. She was a friend.
At this point the blonde had spotted the telltale bite marks on the woman’s neck, and was quite unsubtly staring at them whilst elbowing her friend.
The brunette ignored her, instead leaning in as well, to whisper.
“For example, is it true that being bitten by a vampire is like…” here she paused, looking a bit flustered. Clearly despite her enthusiasm some words were just too much for her. “Is like… a little death?” she said finally, in a hushed, wide-eyed whisper, as her friend sighed in disbelief and coloured.
“Would you like to find out?” the woman whispered back, before raising her head to call out to the shrouded figure. “Astarion, there are some young harlots here to see you.”
“More harlots?!” Astarion groaned in mock exhaustion, picking up a goblet and making his way to the booth with his choice of bottle. “What is a man to do with all these harlots?”
The squeal both girls let out did nothing for the woman’s headache.
A ray of sunlight snuck past a partially drawn curtain and pierced the air between Astarion and the booth.
“Ugh,” he huffed, pausing before the ray. “Darling, do you mind..?”
“Of course, love,” the woman said, before flexing her mind to pull on a multitude of telekinetic strings. Instantaneously, curtains all around the room pulled themselves closed, shutters slammed shut, and a multitude of candles ignited to light up the space.
Settling in the booth on the other side of the two girls, Astarion finally allowed the sheet to slip off his head and halfway down his torso, revealing his alabaster skin and sculpted muscles. He seemed to be wearing nothing underneath the sheet draped around him. The stunning effect would have been ruined somewhat had anyone noticed the fluffy pink slippers on his feet.
Astarion poured himself the wine, pointedly ignoring the girls, before reaching for the woman’s hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles.
“May I?” he purred. Having obtained her assent, he pierced one of her fingers with a fang, to drip a few drops of blood into his wine.
It was only then the woman noticed that, quite uncharacteristically, the blonde was staring at her rather than at Astarion.
“Madam Asmodea…” the girl whispered, in awe.
“‘Madam’?!” Asmodea scoffed. “This is a theatre, not a brothel!”
Astarion finally deigned to look at the two dolts in the booth.
“Well… These ones are fresher than the musty harlots from yesterday. Unspoiled and virginal…” he mused, sipping his wine. “You are a virgin, are you not?” he directed at the brunette.
The girl merely sputtered and coloured.
“No matter,” Astarion sighed, shaking his head.
“Do we really want to go through all that trouble again so soon, my heart?” Asmodea said, wearily. “All that blood…” she groaned theatrically.
“Hmm… Do you think it will be too soon to order another mattress?�� Astarion said innocently, swirling the wine in his goblet.
“Absolutely, the supplier is already getting suspicious, and so are the removalists.”
“We’ll say I couldn’t keep down a boar I’d drained again.”
Both girls were growing increasingly more agitated by the second, on the verge of hyperventilating as much as their unnecessarily tightly laced corsets would allow.
“It’s not just that,” Asmodea said, pushing her coffee mug further away from her. Once the girls finally broke out of their stupor and fled, they’d no doubt run through her side of the booth, and she didn’t want anything spilled on her robe. “There’s two of them again, the blood will leak all the way through the boards, we’ll need to have the entire floor redone as well - do you remember what a hassle that was?”
“You’re right… Shall we take them straight to the dungeon then? That way the incinerator is right there once we’re done,” Astarion said with a malevolent grin.
At last, the girls made a run for it, screaming. Thankfully, they both opted to topple right over the backs of the booth’s seats, tripping over their skirts several times before scampering up and finally making it back out through the door. With another push of her mind, Asmodea slammed the door shut behind them, blocking out the sun. She really needed to start taking it easy, she thought, the exercise took more effort than usual.
Still in their seats, Astarion and Asmodea shared a look of pure mischievous mirth, before bursting into laughter.
“Gods…” Astarion chortled. “This never gets old.”
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Five years had passed since the confrontation with the Elder Brain.
Astarion was a wreck once the insane ploy he had been pulled into was over.
Once he could finally stop worrying about survival or what the next day might bring, once he didn’t have to wallow in uncertainty anymore, once he could stop running on pure desperate instinct, he suddenly found himself not knowing what he wanted, or even who he was.
No Cazador. No tadpole. No immunity to the sun. Not a single thing to call his own, and not a clue about what he wanted to do for the rest of the eternity which had miraculously been afforded him. Nothing but the weight of the past 200 years. And, despite all odds, his lunatic bard-turned-warlock love. Still by his side.
The pair had initially travelled with Halsin for some time.
The decision was made not least because they thought it prudent to try to steer clear of the 1,000 or so newly freed spawn which Astarion had personally lured to Cazador, until they had dispersed into the Underdark. His siblings had offered him a spot at the top of whatever hierarchy the vampires would end up falling into, but he declined. It would likely have ended as a death sentence - if not for him, then for Asmodea.
As for Halsin - the druid had proven to be an island of comfort and stability for both of them, having grown close, very close in the time they spent together in the Shadow-cursed Lands and Baldur’s Gate. Asmodea had also simply found it nice to let someone whom she could trust take charge and make decisions for a change, which Astarion was certainly not in the right state of mind to do at the time. 
But, it wasn’t long before Halsin began talking about taking care of orphans, and generally having a bigger and better heart than Astarion and Asmodea felt they had any right to lay any claim to, and it was time to part ways. They returned to Baldur’s Gate.
By that point Asmodea had a plan. As well as all the perks that came with emerging from the group’s final battle as the ‘hero of Baldur’s Gate’.
It started as a dingy, underground (quite literally) gambling den. Anything to pretend that there was life in the shadows, and that keeping to night hours was something people did as a matter of course.
The gambling den expanded into a pub. Which expanded into a tavern with a small stage, attracting ever-changing artists and acts.
The venues continued to move, change and grow, until eventually the pair boasted a sprawling establishment named The Dancing Siren, comprising a bar, restaurant and theatre, with private rooms on the top floors.
Asmodea didn’t much care for the bar and restaurant, but rather operated them out of necessity and for convenience. Livestock with fresh blood was delivered to the doorstep, keeping Astarion sated. They didn’t even need to set up a front for it.
The theatre, on the other hand, was Asmodea’s pride and joy. The pinnacle of what she had once dreamed of, but never thought she would have the means to realise.
The shows were pure debauchery - lewd comedy, song and dance; the performers clad in ostentatious costumes, all feather boas, lingerie and sequins.
Entering the theatre was like stepping onto a different plane, one set in a perpetual haze of smoke and perfume, decorated in vulgar, flamboyant decadence.
Astarion had started as an observer, a bemused witness to his lover’s vision coming true.
Despite his initial scepticism, he was gradually pulled in more and more, perhaps spurred by his own penchant for theatrics and craving for attention.
As time passed, he found himself directing, assisting with costumes, and occasionally performing or stepping in as the master of ceremonies, when the need arose.
He had an undeniable talent for choreography.
He also looked sinfully good in a corset.
If Astarion ever regretted his choice to forego completing the ritual in Cazador’s stead, it only showed in his lamentations at being unable to unleash legions of wolves on disorderly guests, or to turn into mist in the face of tax collectors. 
Throughout the five years, Astarion’s identity as a vampire remained the worst kept secret in Baldur’s Gate. It was never quite publicly admitted, of course, but neither was it denied. The Duke’s personal protection guaranteed that he would be undisturbed, at least by the authorities, and at least as long as he ‘behaved’.
There was never any shortage of fools who were willing to throw themselves at him, should he desire variety in sentient blood, anyway.
Life was a beautiful gilded cage of the pair’s own construction. The door was perpetually left open, but why would they ever leave..?
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Asmodea sat at her vanity, getting ready for the night ahead, when an external presence filled her mind once again.
“HOW LONG WILL YOU CONTINUE TO SQUANDER MY GIFTS ON IMPRESSING BUFFOONS WITH CHEAP PARLOUR TRICKS?”
She winced at the intrusion.
“Use your inside voice, dear, there’s no need to shout,” she murmured, continuing her preparations. “You are more than welcome to vacate my mind and take your gifts with you - I don’t owe you anything, and there is sufficient sorcery in my blood for moving curtains and lighting candles.”
Her patron came and went as it pleased. She could feel its presence when it was observing. She knew it could see through her eyes. She knew it was aware of each instance of her calling upon its powers. She chose to speak out loud to it, when she could. That seemed to place a divide between their communication and her thoughts.
Five years with hardly a need to use the magic granted by the fey creature. Still, it stayed with her.
“So you say. And yet, you continue to uphold the contract yourself. Asmodea.”
“How does the saying go? Better two birds in the hand, than discovering you can no longer set fire to the bush?” she countered.
The presence snickered.
“Yes… Always grasping and never quite reaching. Always running. Ignoring. Pretending. Denying. You said it yourself... Tell me, little one, what need have you for the birds, when fire is what you yearn for?”
“Do you even understand what you’re going on about, or are you just saying words?” Asmodea murmured, lining her eyes.
“Your senses dull, your mind frails, your muscles weaken, your body softens-”
“Lae’zel..? Has it been you this whole time..?!” She mused.
“Your powers weaken, your very essence decays.”
Asmodea tossed her brush onto the vanity and locked eyes with her own reflection, glaring at it as she might have liked to at her nameless, faceless patron.
“What the fuck do you want?” she spat.
“A new deal.”
“I am more than happy with our current arrangement.”
“Are you..?” The presence chuckled.“And what if I told you, that I can give you more..? That I can lead you to that, which you desire most? That I can help you resolve your predicament?”
She continued to stare at her reflection, narrowing her eyes, drumming her fingernails on the tabletop.
“I’m listening.”
Tags:
Taking some liberties here to include people who I think might be interested - do let me know if you don't want to be on this list
@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89 @acourtofpenandpaper @yoonshope @lariatbunny @whiskeyskin @spacebarbarianweird @brabblesblog @littlejuicebox @icybluepenguin @snowfolly
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too-much-tma-stuff · 2 days
Text
Let Me Take Care of You (18+)
requested by @transparentgayprotector: Dead serious, soulmate au, post battle hook up but sweet
-----
It was always a complete joy to Damian when he got watch his soulmate fight. He understood now that strength was not the ends all and be all of life but he still preened openly at having such a powerful and regal life partner.
Today Damian had the absolute joy of backing his lover up while he fought one of his rogues. Well, technically there were a few of the other bats here but he was clearly the most helpful. They were taking care of any summons the villain attempted to throw at them so that Danny could focus on the main fight. Damian might have resented that but he knew perfectly well how strong Danny was.
It had been a hard fight for all involved at first, until the fool of a rogue realized how completely outclassed they were an how little good their pathetic mobs were actually doing. They had dropped all their summons to focus on Danny and Damian had been able to sit back and enjoy the show of power and force. He wished he had brought some snacks to enjoy the show, perhaps that would keep him from getting so hot under the collar.
Damian could have purred when Danny sent the villain twice his size running. "Welcome back Phantom," Damian greeted, reaching up for Danny as he drifted down to them. "Are you injured?"
"No, don't worry I'm fine," Danny said, resting his hands in Damian's, so pale compared to his own, like holding snow.
"Are you sure? You know I'd feel much better if you let me check," Damian said, pulling Danny down closer to him.
"What? No really I'm okay-" Danny started before Damian yanked him close.
"Please Beloved, take me home," Damian purred in Danny's ear, his voice soft and sultry.
"Oh- Oh, ya of course," Danny said, blushing bright green, it made his star-like freckles stand out all the more on his cheeks. It was adorable, how something so powerful could be so precious Damian would never understand.
He glanced around to make sure there wasn't to much damage as he touched down on the ground and wrapped his arms around Damian's waist. "Thank you all so much for your help, I owe you one!" He said, his voice pitching up just a little when Damian wrapped his arms around Danny's shoulders and nuzzled against his throat.
"Ya, ya you're welcome! Now take him home before he jumps you in front of all of us," Jason teased them, Damian could only grin to himself about how correct Todd was.
"Right, Well, thanks again," Danny said sounding Very flustered before he ripped open a portal and pulled Damian through with him.
Damian was very pleased when they landed directly on the bed, his love knew him so well! Damian got comfortable straddling Danny's waist and kissed him slow and passionate. Damian hummed when Danny cupped his face and kissed back.
Damian saw a bright flash through his eyelids and when he opened his eyes he could see Danny's living skin, warmer and less freckled, his now blue eyes closed and eyebrows scrunched together in adorable concentration as he focused on the kiss. It made Damian's heart swell and the branching scars of Danny's electrification tingle in his chest and down his arm.
Damian broke the kiss and leaned back, unbuttoning Danny's blue shirt, he leaned down and kissed the scar on his chest, from Damian's own death. The lightning scars had long since faded on Danny's living skin but they lived forever on Damian's, the scar on Damian's chest had been overwritten when he was resurrected, but it lived forever on Danny's.
"I love you," Damian murmured against Danny's twisted skin, vulnerable and true.
"I love you too," Danny replied, running his fingers through Damian's hair. He had none of the trouble Damian did when it came to giving and receiving love. Early on in their relationship Damian had almost been jealous of how easily Danny got along with his family, how quickly he let them in and how easily they loved him. He was long since over that now though, he was just grateful that Danny was fated to be his.
Damian made a soft sound of acknowledgment and moved to the edge of the bed to kick off the boots he was still wearing. While he did Danny shrugged off his button down and went to undo his own shoes. Damian tutted and pushed him back down, deft hands undoing the laces of Danny's shoes and pulling them off himself, Danny's socks were too large and came off along with them.
Damian's deft and knife callused fingers curled around the back of Danny's heel, pressing a kiss to his ankle. Danny's breath hitched slightly in his throat, Damian knew that Danny was a King, nearly a god, and how uncomfortable he was with the roll. Danny did not want to be worshiped, at least not in that way, in bed was a different story.
He kissed up Danny's leg, his shin, above his knee, his thigh, then his stomach just above the waist of his jeans. He undid Danny's pants and pushed them down slowly, nuzzling against his hip fondly. Danny watched him, wide eyed and flushed, letting Damian have his way and Oh how Damian loved having his way with such a powerful man.
He chuckled breathlessly when Danny's dick practically jumped free of his underwear once they were pushed down. Danny let out a soft whimper, an eager little sound he simply couldn't hold back. Adorable~
Damian nuzzled the underside of Danny's dick making him gasp and grab the sheets, his other hand flying to Damian's hair. He didn't pull or push, just held on and let Damian do as he pleased, so Damian continued, secure in the knowledge that if he wanted to Danny absolutely could stop him.
Damian let Danny's member slip between his lips, soft and warm as it nudged against the back of his pallet. He hummed contentedly as he drew a moan from his lover. He closed his lips around the engorged flesh and started sucking, his mouth watering as he bobbed his head, his saliva dripping down along the length he couldn't quite fit in his mouth.
He pulled back, letting Danny's dick fall from his mouth with a small pop that made Danny's breath stutter. The sound made him smirk. "Pass me the oil please Love," Damian requested while still slowly stroking Danny's dick.
"Sure," Danny breathed, sitting up and reaching over to the bedside table, scrabbling through the drawer for the body safe oil they used as lube. While he did Damian took the chance to strip the rest of his own clothes.
Danny handed the lube over, his eyes roaming over Damian's body. he smiled and sat back to let Danny look, he knew he was painfully hard as well, but he wasn't thinking about that, too focused on Danny at the moment. He saw the way Danny's pupils dilated when he was planning to pounce and beat him to it, swooping down to kiss the other man and hold him down without any real force.
Damian knew his intention was enough to keep Danny firmly on his back right now. "Let me take care of you," Damian crooned. He straddled Danny's waist and leaned back, bracing one hand on Danny's knee so he had a good view as Damian started to work himself open slowly. He knew he looked good, and it made him feel good being watched like this, to be enjoyed by his lover.
"Fuck, you're so gorgeous," Danny breathed, reaching up slowly enough that Damian could have said no. When he didn't Danny ran his hands over Damian's toned chest and taught stomach, settling for holding his hips and helping hold the angle as Damian tried not to focus to much on his own pleasure.
"Alright," He murmured to himself, letting out a shuddering breath as he pulled out his own fingers once he was lose enough. He shifted down, lining himself up with Danny's cock and holding it carefully with one hand as he lowered himself with a long shuddering moan.
The sound of pleasure Danny let out when he bottomed out inside Damian was particularly inhuman. He'd been self conscious of those little snarls and wails at first but Damian loved them. They made his skin pebble in goose flesh and a shiver run down his spine, a tiny little twist of fear to add spice to his pleasure.
He leaned forward, shifting and swiveling his hips slowly until he found the angle that felt best and most comfortable. Beneath him Danny's breathing came fast and shallow, his grip on Damian's hips turning bruising as he struggled to control himself. Still Damian wasn't actually scared, he knew his beloved would never hurt him.
"Ohhh," he sighed when he found just the right position and quickly pushed himself up so he could sink back down. His moan was pleasant backing vocals for Danny's snarl as he threw his head back. Damian gave a breathless laugh and started riding Danny quickly having just about used up Both of their patience.
He kept his own noises soft, little gasps and moans, not because he needed to but because he wanted to hear Danny. His own pleasure was incidental and inevitable as he worked to draw as many varied noises as he could from his Lover.
"Damian! Damian, I'm going to cum," Danny warmed breathlessly.
"Good, me too," Damian breathed.
Damian let out a startled yelp when Danny sat up quickly, surging up to kiss Damian almost to hard, holding him tight as Damian came, shuddering and collapsing in Danny's arms. Shivering with the odd combination of disgust and delight that came with being covered in and filled with both their orgasmic fluid.
"Straight to the shower?" Danny asked, sounding amused. He knew Damian so well.
"Yes please. Carry me," Damian demanded imperiously for the sole purpose of making Danny laugh. Which it did, even as he did exactly what Damian asked and scooped him up in a bridal carry.
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ticklish-n-stuff · 1 day
Note
Ehe~ Thomato? 👀
Ayato said he was going to go to bed but instead took his papers to his room and is sneakily working on them. Thoma can’t have that smh smh 🤨
Stubborn commissioner
MWAHAHA LEE AYATO
I'm not very confident in my thomato writing skills, but I hope you still enjoy it!💖💖💖
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Ayato x Thoma (interpret as you wish)
Lee: Ayato
Ler: Thoma
Warnings: Tickles!
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As someone who harbored a lot of responsibilities, Ayato always did them with elegance and grace. At least that’s how he presented himself, but his most trusted servant knew the truth about how overworked and rushed Ayato truly was. As was the case tonight as well.
“And you promise you’ll go straight to bed? No more working, right?”
“Of course, Thoma” Ayato waved him off with an innocent look. Thoma was a bit hesitant to leave him be, but decided to trust him this time. Oh how wrong he was. The moment the blonde was out of sight, Ayato took his leftover stack of paperwork to his bed. I mean, he did go to bed. Although he decided to tune out the second part.
As Thoma finished his nightly tasks at the estate, he couldn’t shake off a strange feeling. He felt an insatiable urge to check up on the commissioner, considering how stubborn he could be at times. So he did just that. He quickly headed over to the bedroom, normally he’d be polite and knock, but in the case his lord was actually sleeping, he didn’t want to disturb. “It’ll be just a quick peek…” Thoma told himself as he slowly turned the doorknob.
Ayato felt like a deer in headlights at Thoma’s unexpected arrival, being caught red-handed. “...well, you never said I had to sleep”.
“I also said not to work” Thoma placed his hands on his hips, staring down at his lord like a disappointed father. Except Ayato just shrugged and kept on doing his paperwork as if Thoma wasn’t there to give him a piece of his mind.
The blonde had to remind himself to breathe in and out, there’s always a more civilized way to resolve conflict. Although that sort of logic can’t be applied when a certain someone is too stubborn to listen. Y’know what does apply? A silly approach.
“My lord, if you won’t listen, I’ll have no other choice but to resort to… drastic methods” as the blonde spoke, he cracked his knuckles. Ayato’s pen suddenly stopped writing, his whole body tensing up. Did he dare continue writing despite hearing such a threat?... Of course he did! Just as he stopped, he quickly resumed writing.
“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you”
Ayato was too zoned out to even notice Thoma’s eerily approach before it was too late. He suddenly felt a light swipe go down his spine. “Ah!” He gasped out loud, back arching forward. Although his movement was quickly restrained as two arms wrapped around his waist.
“Where do you think you’re going?~” Thoma whispered teasingly against his ear, two fingers digging into either side of Ayato’s stomach.
“WaHAit! Thomahaha!” It didn’t take long for him to burst out into bright giggles, squirming in the blonde’s arms.
“I’m done waiting. Either you put those papers aside and sleep, or I keep going” Thoma stated simply before burying his face against the crook of Ayato’s neck, making the latter squeal.
“Buhut I cahan’t…!” The giggly male whined out, gripping his papers for dear life.
“It’s cute you think you have a choice in the matter~” Thoma chuckled against his skin, worming his fingers under Ayato’s shirt.
“HAH—?!” Ayato almost doubled over when he felt cold fingers against bare skin, poking and prodding wherever they went. Papers flying everywhere as he went to grip at Thoma’s wrists. Not like he put much force into it, wether it was lack or energy or something else, who knows.
“My lord, do you still refuse to sleep?” As the blonde spoke, he softly wiggled his index finger against the commissioner's navel.
“EEP?! I— PFF! AHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO! OKAY! OKAHAY! I’LL SLEHEEP!” Ayato leaned his head back, his limp body resting against his servant as he laughed with all his might. It was rare of him to let out such a boisterous laugh. Any energy he had left was definitely drained.
“And you’re very sure you’ll actually sleep now?” Thoma moved his hands to Ayato’s waistline, giving his hips a light squeeze.
“YAH?! Yes! Yehes! I’m suhure! Just– plehease!” the Kamisato clan leader was at his wits end, his laughter turning wheezy and airi. As adorable as the sight was, he really did need the rest.
“Haha! Okay, I’m done now. I promise” Thoma gave a sweet smile as his fingers came to a halt, his arms losening their grip to let go.
“Wait!—”
“Hmm? Yes, my lord?”
“Can we cuddle?” Ayato gave him a sleepy smile, one that Thoma couldn’t refuse. Not like he ever did.
“Of course, I’d love to” he held Ayato tightly once more, the latter resting his head against the blonde’s chest. It didn’t take long for the room to be full of soft snores. Thoma smiled down at him, giving a gentle kiss to his forehead, before joining his master in his slumber.
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sarnai4 · 3 days
Text
Opening Up
About opening up...Dagur kinda doesn't. (Spoilers ahead)
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This is something I've seen some fans talk about where they say Dagur would reveal personal information easily. I see where they're coming from with this. Looking at Dagur, I'd expect that too. He's outspoken, emotional, unrestrained, etc. He seems like someone who could randomly say, "I had a good cry today," and it wouldn't be anything surprising. HOWEVER, that changes for me when I look at the proof from the show. If Dagur was half as open about things as this would imply, then we wouldn't be forced to speculate so much about his past and the things that have happened to him. In another case of me spending too much time studying Dragons (probably. Still worth it), I tried to collect all the examples of Dagur sharing information. They have something in common. Each time, there's a specific reason. I'll go in chronological order.
In "Enemy of My Enemy," Dagur tells Hiccup how revenge can make you do things you didn't think you were capable. This was an interesting moment of really getting to see how the villain we saw Dagur be wasn't who he always was. It even shocked him how extreme his actions became. This has the potential to be some heavy stuff, but he didn't just outright say it for fun. He said it because he saw Hiccup going down that same path. This isn't, "I can't believe the things I've done and really need someone to talk to." It's, "I see you following in my footsteps and they led me in a terrible direction. I don't want that for you."
It takes Dagur F.O.R.E.V.E.R. to admit he didn't kill Oswald. Even as a good guy, he doesn't say it easily. In "Family on the Edge," he implies that something Heather said out of the sent her adrift, killed their dad, and tried to kill them list wasn't true, but he doesn't just say it. He writes it in the letter, admitting that and how he was worried that the other Berserkers wouldn't follow him otherwise. If he wanted to do it for emotional release reasons, he could've just said the first time or even told her way back when he thought they were on the same side. Rather than that, he puts it in a letter so that her final relative won't be quite as bad as she thinks he is.
In "Searching for Oswald...And Chicken," Dagur has two moments. First, he tells Heather how he's spent most of his life in varying stages of existential crisis. (Just wow for that. Wish we had heard more about it because that is quite the emotional load he nonchalantly dropped) Again, this clearly isn't to get something off his chest because it's not even something he brings up again. He just tells her so that she'll have proof he knows what is meaningless, hopefully getting her to stop throwing herself in harm's way to find Oswald. Later, he tells Hiccup he keeps anger, frustration, and rage to himself. This also isn't to share so much as to prove he can keep secrets and deserves to be trusted with the location of Vanaheim.
Then, we have "In Plain Sight." There, we find out he used to get bullied. He waited until as much of the last moment as possible to tell Fishlegs and Snotlout this. They had already flown from the Edge to Berserker Island and were literally walking down to meet Ansson. So, I don't think it's him wanting to share sensitive information. It's him knowing they're about to be there with the bully and since Ansson doesn't care about playing nice, it's going to be obvious that he used to bully him. This is just softening the blow a little by telling them first. Didn't really help, though, since they still laughed at him being called "Dainty." (Not cool even though I get how weird it would be to hear someone call him that)
Unless I'm mistaken, that's everything. I don't think there's another time when Dagur reveals something personal. Each of these had some deeper purpose. This is why I don't believe Dagur would start speaking about his past traumas without a prompt. Now, I'll say I do enjoy having him talk about this in stories and I support other writers who do. I just believe it takes a little nudge. He's not going to sit down next to someone and talk about his time in jail. He has literally never spoken about his time in jail in the entire show except the first RTTE episode to say that he spent 3 years thinking about Hiccup. So, it actually leaves a lot of room to be creative with what his past even has first, then what situation would get him to spill the beans.
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5starluvr · 13 hours
Text
Start a riot
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Paring:Lee Felix × Reader
Genre:pure Angst
Warnings:Kidnappingish?, Obduktion, death,blood,arguing, mentioned injuries
Wc: 4.5k
Spider Kids
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The fire escape clanged with a metallic shriek as Felix, his mask half-shredded, tumbled onto Y/N's fire escape once again. Groaning, he peeled himself off the cold metal, wincing as a throbbing pain shot through his shoulder. Another night, another scrape with a supervillain with an even dumber name – tonight it was the Mime Master, and let's just say Felix was feeling less than amused.
He barely had time to knock before the door swung open, revealing Y/N in a rumpled t-shirt and sleep pants, her hair a wild halo around her face. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, then narrowed in a way that sent a familiar shiver down his spine. It wasn't just concern this time, it was simmering anger.
"Felix? What happened this time?" she demanded, her voice tight. "Uh, hey," he mumbled, offering a weak wave that felt more like a defeated smile. "Just, you know, the usual. Took a tumble down a fire escape... literally."
Y/N's jaw clenched. "Literally every night, Felix? This isn't funny! You come waltzing in here looking like you lost a fight with a runaway blender, expecting me to fix you up like some glorified trauma center, and then you just disappear back into the night!".Felix felt a prickle of irritation crawl up his spine. "Look, I can take care of myself, Y/N," he said defensively, the familiar spark of annoyance erupting in his chest. "It's not like I'm asking you to play damsel in distress every other night."he says his voice rising. "You show up here half-dead, expecting me to patch you up and coddle you, and then you just vanish without a word! You could at least try to be a little more considerate of the people who care about you!"
His irritation flared into a full-blown argument. "Considerate? You think I do this for fun? You think I enjoy getting beat up by every clown with a death wish? There are things you don't understand, Y/N!"
"Maybe not," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "but that doesn't mean I can't worry, Felix! You're my best friend, and frankly, it hurts seeing you like this all the time. It makes me feel helpless!"The words struck a raw nerve. Helpless? Was that what she thought of him? Anger, hot and sharp, twisted in his gut. "Maybe you should feel helpless," he spat, the words sharper than he intended. "Because that's all you can do – feel helpless – while I'm out there actually doing something!"
The accusation felt like a punch to the gut. He did care. Maybe more than he cared to admit. But how could he explain? How could he tell her his secret, the burden he carried, the reason he was constantly teetering on the edge?
"There are things you don't understand," he said finally, his voice strained.
"Maybe not," Y/N said , her arms crossed tightly. "But that doesn't mean I can't worry, Felix. You're my best friend. And frankly, it's getting a little old! It's like you have this whole other life you won't let me in on, a life that gets you hurt all the time!"
He felt a surge of anger, hot and unwelcome. "This isn't about some other life," he snapped. "This is about me protecting people! People like you!"
The words came out harsher than he intended, but the frustration of the secret, the fear of losing her, it all boiled over. Y/N flinched, her eyes widening in hurt.
"So you think I can't take care of myself?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Shame washed over him, cold and suffocating. He hadn't meant it that way. But the damage was done.
"Look," he started, his voice softer now, but the anger still lingered. "I appreciate you patching me up, but maybe it's time I found somewhere else to do it. Somewhere they won't judge me for doing what I have to do."The words hung heavy in the air, a bitter truth wrapped in a barbed insult. Y/N's lips turned white, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Fine," she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. "Go then." The words hung heavy in the air, the hurt flickering in Y/N's eyes a punch to his gut. But the anger wouldn't subside. He stormed past her, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality that echoed the hollowness in his chest.
He didn't look back as he swung through the moonlit city, the echo of his own cruel words ringing in his ears. He'd crossed a line, he knew that. But the anger wouldn't dissipate. Maybe she was right. Maybe keeping his secret wasn't just protecting her, it was a betrayal. But the thought of her knowing, of seeing him as anything less than... well, anything less than what, he didn't know – was terrifying.
•~~~~~~•
The shrill ring of his alarm clock was a foreign sound, a jarring intrusion into the tense silence of Felix's apartment. He stared at the ceiling, the events of the previous night replaying on a loop in his mind. The anger, the argument, the cruel words that hung heavy in the air – all fueled by a desperate need to protect his secret and a simmering fear of losing Y/N. He winced, the throbbing pain in his shoulder a unwelcome reminder of his nighttime activities. School. The thought of facing Y/N after their fight, the weight of unspoken apologies and unspoken truths, filled him with dread. He fumbled for his phone, the glowing screen displaying an ungodly early hour. Skipping wasn't his usual way to go , but the idea of facing her scrutiny, the possibility of her pity, was unbearable. With a sigh, he sent a quick text to his best friend – a lame excuse about a appointment.
The day stretched before him, empty and purposeless. He tried to focus on homework, on video games, on anything to distract himself, but Y/N's face kept flashing in his mind, the hurt in her eyes a constant accusation.
He replayed the argument, his anger morphing into a gnawing guilt. He'd lashed out, using her concern as a weapon. The truth was, he did care about what she thought. Maybe more than he cared to admit. The city outside his window pulsed with life, a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. He was Spider-Man, the city's protector, but right now, he felt powerless, adrift in a sea of his own mistakes.
As the day wore on, the silence in his apartment became deafening. He missed Y/N's usual teasing texts, her goofy voicemails. He missed the easy camaraderie they shared, the unspoken bond that transcended friendship.
The guilt deepened. He knew he had to apologize, to bridge the gap he'd created. But the words wouldn't come. How could he explain his life and feelings without pushing her further away?
•~~~~~~•
The shrill ring of the first-period bell sliced through the nervous tension that had coiled in Y/N's stomach all morning. She shuffled into English class, eyes instinctively scanning the room for Felix's usual messy mop of hair and lopsided grin. But the seat beside her remained stubbornly empty.
A hollow ache settled in her chest. Skipping school wasn't like Felix. He was more likely to show up with a concussion and a lame excuse than miss a single class. Their fight replayed in her mind, his harsh words echoing in the sterile classroom. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was being helpless. Maybe...But the thought of him out there, injured and alone, chasing down supervillains while she sat safely in class, made her stomach churn. She chewed on her lip, her gaze flitting across the room again. Maybe he overslept. Maybe his dentist appointment ran late. Maybe...
The teacher droned on about Shakespearean sonnets, but Y/N's focus remained laser-sharp on the empty chair. Throughout the day, the same pattern repeated. History, Math, Chemistry – Felix's absence loomed like a thundercloud. She stole glances at his usual lunch spot, her heart sinking further with every unanswered text.By the final bell, a knot of worry had tightened in her gut. She couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that something was terribly wrong. Ignoring the curious stares of her classmates, she bolted towards the library, the only place Felix sometimes snuck off to for a stolen nap between classes.
He wasn't there.
Disappointment pricked at her eyes. She sank into a chair, burying her face in her hands. Had their fight been that bad? Did he really think so little of her concern? A hot tear squeezed out, tracing a path down her cheek.
Suddenly, the library door creaked open. Y/N looked up, a flicker of hope igniting in her chest. But it was just Sarah, their chatty classmate, with a pile of books teetering precariously in her arms.
"Hey, have you seen Felix?" Y/N blurted out, wiping at her tear with the back of her hand.Chan frowned. "No, I haven't. Isn't he feeling well? He skipped class today."
Y/N's heart sank. Skipped class. Not just missed it. A cold dread washed over her.  Her anger at him was quickly fading, replaced by a gnawing fear that she couldn't quite place. Felix might be secretive, he might be reckless, but he wouldn't just disappear. He wouldn't leave her hanging, not after something like last night.
•~~~~~~•
The droning of Mrs. Rodriguez's lecture on Victorian literature was a dull thrum against Y/N's growing unease. Felix's empty chair was a constant reminder of their fight, his harsh words echoing in the sterile classroom.  She chewed on her lip, her gaze flitting between the empty seat and the clock, willing it to move faster. Maybe he overslept. Maybe—
Suddenly, a thunderous boom rattled the windows, sending a jolt of adrenaline through Y/N. The fluorescent lights flickered and died, plunging the room into an unsettling darkness. Screams erupted from the hallway, a cacophony of terror that sent chills down Y/N's spine.
Panic flared in her chest.  This wasn't a prank, this was something worse.  Her eyes darted to the window, a flicker of movement catching her attention. A figure, silhouetted against the twilight sky, scaled the side of the school building with unnatural agility.
A cold dread gripped her. Supervillains. It was something they only ever joked about, a distant threat from the city news. But here it was, unfolding before her very eyes.
Mrs. Rodriguez scrambled to her feet, her voice trembling as she ushered the students towards the back of the classroom. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest.  She needed to get out of there, but her gaze couldn't tear away from the window. Felix.  Where was Felix?
Then, a horrifying realization slammed into her.  Felix wasn't here because he was out there. He was probably facing that monstrous figure, risking his life while she sat huddled in a darkened classroom.
Guilt clawed at her. Her anger seemed trivial now, replaced by a fierce protectiveness.  She couldn't just hide.  Not when Felix, the reckless, infuriating, yet undeniably brave Felix, was out there facing danger. As the screams continued to echo in the hallway, panic had jammed the hallways into a human bottleneck. Students were shoved, whimpering, towards a single, creaking fire escape while a distorted voice boomed through the loudspeaker system. "Attention, students! This is The Showman! Consider this a pop quiz! Your survival depends on entertaining me!"
Y/N pushed through the crowd, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Every instinct screamed at her to get out, to run.  But the image of the figure outside her window, silhouetted against the twilight, propelled her forward. Felix. She reached the end of the hallway just as the fire escape door slammed shut, leaving a desperate throng wailing behind her. Disappointment clawed at her, but then a new sound pierced the chaos – the unmistakable crackle of electricity followed by a maniacal cackle.
Emerging from the shadows with a flourish, a man clad in a purple leotard and a top hat that sparked erratically, was The Showman. Bolts of electricity danced around his fingers, casting an eerie glow on his twisted grin. Flanking him were two hulking figures, their faces obscured by metal helmets and glowing red eyes.
„Ah, a volunteer!" The Showman's voice contorted into a parody of a game show host. "Let's see what you're made of, little contestant!".Before Y/N could react, the two figures lunged. One grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip, the metal glinting coldly under the flickering lights. The other clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling her scream. The air crackled with electricity as The Showman unleashed a wicked smile.
"Let the games begin!" His voice echoed down the empty hallway, a cruel promise of what was to come. Y/N's eyes darted around, searching for a way out, for any sign of Felix. But all she saw was the terrifying glint of the red eyes as the villains dragged her deeper into the darkness, the echo of Felix's name a silent plea on her lips. Panic clawed at Y/N's throat. The villains, hulking brutes nicknamed "Watt" and "Bolt" according to their glowing red eyes, dragged her through a labyrinth of darkened hallways. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, each beat punctuated by the distant screams of her classmates.
Tears pricked at her eyes, blurring her vision. This was a nightmare, a twisted game show come to life. But through the haze of fear, a sliver of determination flared. Felix. He might be out there, trying to stop this madness, and she couldn't just be a helpless victim.
As they passed a cracked window, she caught a glimpse of the night sky. It was enough. With a surge of adrenaline, she twisted her body, landing a sharp elbow into Watt's metallic stomach. He grunted in surprise, momentarily loosening his grip.
Y/N lunged forward, aiming for a fire extinguisher hanging on the nearby wall. Her fingers brushed against the cold metal, sending a surge of hope. But before she could pull it free, Bolt's hand clamped down on her wrist, his grip like a vise.
"Trying to be a little hero, huh?" he sneered, his voice distorted by the helmet.
Y/N gritted her teeth, channeling her fear into anger. "Where are you taking me? What's The Showman planning?"
Bolt chuckled, a sound like gravel scraping against metal. "The Showman wants to put on a little show, of course! And you, my dear, are the main act."
His words sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. The fire escape door slammed shut at the back of her mind. There was no escape. Her only hope was Felix, or maybe some miracle she couldn't even imagine.
Suddenly, a loud clang echoed down the hallway, followed by a booming voice. "Looking for a volunteer, Showman? Seems you already found one!"
Y/N's head snapped towards the sound. Standing at the end of the hallway, bathed in the moonlight streaming through a broken window, was Spider-Man. Felix . A jolt of relief washed over her, so strong it almost made her knees buckle.
"Well, well," The Showman cackled, his eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. "Looks like we have a challenger! Let the games truly begin!"
Watt and Bolt exchanged a look, then lunged at Felix . The hallway erupted into chaos. Y/N watched, wide-eyed, as Felix dodged their attacks with incredible agility, his movements a blur of red and blue.
He wasn't just dodging, he was fighting back. Each web-shot found its mark, momentarily restraining the hulking villains. But The Showman wasn't idle. He unleashed a volley of crackling electricity, forcing Spider-Man to take cover behind a metal locker.
"Impressive reflexes, bug boy," The Showman taunted. "But let's see how you handle a real challenge!"
He raised a hand, directing a concentrated blast of electricity towards Y/N. Fear turned to icy dread in her stomach. But before the attack could connect, a figure swung in front of her, a red and blue shield deflecting the energy blast.
"Don't worry, Y/N," Felix said, his voice distorted by the mask. "I've got you."
He looked at her for a fleeting moment, his eyes filled with a concern that made her heart skip a beat. Then, with a burst of speed, he launched himself back into the fray.
Y/N knew she had to do something. These villains were formidable, but they didn't seem to be expecting a civilian to fight back. As The Showman unleashed another blast of electricity, aiming for Spider-Man's blind spot, she saw her chance.
With a surge of adrenaline, she lunged for the fire extinguisher that hung tantalizingly close. This time, her fingers grasped the cold metal. Wrenching it free from the wall, she aimed it at The Showman, spraying him with a thick plume of white foam.
The effect was instantaneous. The Showman shrieked with fury, his electrical aura sputtering and dying. Watt and Bolt, momentarily disoriented, stumbled back, their attacks faltering.
Spider-Man used the distraction to his advantage. He webbed up Watt and Bolt in a matter of seconds, their struggles quickly turning into muffled thumps.
The Showman, blinded and disarmed, stood fuming in the middle of the hallway, a comical picture of thwarted villainy. Spider-Man stood over him, his voice a low growl.
"Seems like the show's over, Showman," he said. "Time for you to take a little vacation."
Y/N watched, her body trembling with the aftereffects of fear and adrenaline. As Spider-Man secured the villains. But before Felix could cuff him, a surge of raw desperation flickered in the villain's eyes. With a final, desperate growl, he channeled all his remaining energy into a single, concentrated blast.
The electric current ripped through the air, a blinding white streak aimed directly at Spider-Man. Y/N screamed, a primal cry of terror that echoed through the devastated hallway. Time seemed to slow down, the image of the crackling energy etching itself onto her memory.
Just as the blast connected, Felix threw himself in front of Y/N, his body acting as a shield. The electricity surged through him, a sickening crackle that resonated in the deathly silence that followed.
He crumpled to the ground, a shudder wracking his body. The mask, usually a symbol of invincibility, seemed to dim in the aftermath. A pool of red blossomed on his chest, staining the blue of his suit.
Y/N's scream died in her throat, replaced by a suffocating gasp. Felix. It was Felix under that mask. Fear morphed into a cold, sharp terror that clawed at her insides.
"Felix!" she cried, scrambling towards him. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her own arm, she reached out, her fingers trembling as they brushed against the unresponsive form.
The Showman, momentarily stunned by the unexpected turn of events, cackled with glee. "Looks like the hero couldn't quite save the day, could he?"
His words were drowned out by the roar in Y/N's ears. Felix, the reckless, infuriating, yet undeniably brave Felix, laying hurt before her. The anger from their fight was a distant memory now, replaced by  a desperate need to fix this, to somehow make everything okay.
Ignoring the Showman's deranged laughter and the buzzing in her own head, Y/N ripped off her jacket, pressing the makeshift bandage against Felix's wound.  Her gaze darted around, searching for anything, anything she could use to help.
Then, her eyes landed on the discarded fire extinguisher.  Grabbing it, she aimed the nozzle at The Showman, a fierce glint in her eyes. "The game's not over yet," she said, her voice surprisingly steady.
Y/N's voice echoed in the devastated hallway, a stark contrast to the ragged breaths escaping Felix's lips. The blast had ripped through his suit, leaving a jagged tear that revealed a sickening red beneath. Panic clawed at her throat, threatening to choke her. This wasn't a scrape, this was serious.
Ignoring the Showman's renewed cackling about a "worthy opponent," Y/N's mind raced. She couldn't fight, she wasn't Spider-Man.  But that didn't mean she was useless.
Her gaze fell on the fire extinguisher, a forgotten weapon in her shaking hand. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be the hero, saving the day with a wisecrack.  She shouldn't be the one wielding a weapon, desperation fueling her movements.
With a growl that surprised even herself, Y/N aimed the extinguisher at the canister of compressed air strapped to The Showman's back. It was a desperate gamble, a rage fueled by a raw need to protect Felix.
As if sensing her intent, The Showman lunged, a surge of electricity crackling around him.  But Y/N squeezed the trigger, a deafening hiss filling the air as the compressed air canister erupted.  A blinding flash followed, a shockwave that sent them both flying.
The world spun for Y/N. When she finally blinked the spots away, The Showman was gone, nothing but a ringing silence and the acrid scent of burnt metal remaining. Her makeshift bandage was soaked red, a horrifying reflection of the crimson staining Felix's chest.
He wasn't moving.  A choked sob escaped her lips as she scrambled closer, fear battling with a newfound determination.  There was a hole, a gaping wound on his abdomen, the metallic glint of something embedded within it.
"Felix," she whispered, her voice thick with terror. "Don't you dare leave me... Please, Felix!"
Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision. She knew first aid wouldn't be enough. He needed a hospital, a real doctor. But how? How could she get him out of here without anyone seeing his... his secret identity.
Panic threatened to consume her, but a flicker of movement in his chest sparked a sliver of hope.  He was alive, barely.  Y/N knew she had to act fast.  With a deep breath, she ripped strips of fabric from her remaining clothes, applying pressure to the wound.
Then, looking around the deserted hallway, a desperate plan formed in her mind. It was risky, maybe even reckless, but it was the only chance she had.  She needed to get him out of here, and fast.
Reaching into her pocket, she fumbled for her phone. With trembling hands, she dialed a number she hadn't used in years – the abandoned fire escape at the back of her apartment building, their secret haven from childhood.  It was crazy, but it was the one place she knew no one would find them.
"Felix," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "Hold on. Please, just hold on a little longer."
The words hung heavy in the air, the weight of her secret, his injury, and the fear of losing him pressing down on her. 
The air hung heavy with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of burnt metal. Y/N's frantic pleas echoed off the shattered lockers, bouncing back unanswered. Felix laying  crumpled in her arms, his once vibrant costume now a gruesome tapestry of dark red. Each shallow breath he took was a ragged gasp, a desperate fight against the tide pulling him under.
Panic gnawed at Y/N's insides, a ravenous beast threatening to consume her whole. This couldn't be happening. Felix, was reckless yea, but undeniably brave Felix, who filled her days with exasperation and her nights with secret dreams, was bleeding out in her arms.
"Don't you dare..." She choked on the words, tears blurring her vision into a kaleidoscope of red and blue. "There's... there's so much I need to tell you..."
A weak cough racked his body, his eyes fluttering open with agonizing slowness. They were clouded with pain, but a spark of recognition flickered within them. Recognition, and something else – a raw vulnerability that ripped through Y/N like a thousand paper cuts.
"Y/N..." His voice was a rasp, barely audible above the ringing in her ears.
"I'm here,Felix.It's going to be ok" she gasped, her hand clutching his desperately, her fear threatening to tear her apart.
"The fight... I messed up..." His words were slow, each one a struggle against the pain that clawed at him from within. "I should've been more careful..."
She shook her head, tears tracing a path through the soot and grime clinging to her face. "No, you were saving me... saving everyone..."
A ghost of a smile played on his lips, a bittersweet echo of his usual mischievous grin. It was a smile that held a universe of unspoken emotions, apologies clinging to the edges like cobwebs. But it was his next words that shattered the fragile dam holding back her emotions, a revelation that slammed into her like a speeding train.
"I... I wasn't just saving everyone," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I was saving you..."
His confession hung heavy in the air, a weight of unspoken affection pressing down on them. A sob escaped YN's lips, a torrent of grief and a sudden, overwhelming realization. The anger, the frustration, all of it paled in comparison to the love she felt for this reckless, brave boy who carried the weight of the city on his shoulders.
"Felix," she choked out, her voice thick with tears. "I..."
But the words died on her lips. He squeezed her hand ever so slightly, a faint pressure that spoke volumes of the pain he was enduring. 
"It's okay," he rasped, his eyes fluttering closed. "You don't...  have to say anything..."
A choked sob escaped her. It wasn't okay. Nothing was okay. The pressure in his hand slackened, his grip turning cold and lifeless. The red on his chest had spread, a gruesome stain mocking the warmth she felt for him.
"No... please," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Don't leave me... Felix... I..."
The words never came out. He was gone. The boy who drove her crazy, the boy who kept her safe, the boy she'd come to love more than she could ever express, was gone.  And with him, the truth remained unspoken, a heavy burden laid to rest with him.
Y/N cradled his head in her lap, the tears flowing freely now, a silent tribute to the boy who was her best friend, her hero, and the one love she'd never get to confess.  As the distant sirens wailed in the distance, a hollow echo of help that came far too late, Y/N knew this wasn't just a night the city lost a hero.  It was the night she lost a part of herself, a part buried in the secret resting place of a boy named Felix, and a superhero named Spider-Man.
The weight of his body grew heavier in her arms, a physical manifestation of the emptiness that bloomed in her chest. In the flickering streetlight, she saw a single red and blue web clinging to his chest, a stark reminder of the double life he'd led, a life he'd kept hidden from her, but a life that had ultimately taken him away.
She closed her eyes, her body wracked with sobs. The echo of his final words, a confession of love laced with regret, reverberated in her mind.  She'd never get to tell him how she felt, never get to see his face light up with that goofy grin when he realized she felt the same.
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Red means i can’t tag you.Taglist:open
Taglist: @juskz @blackhairandbangs @sxnset-angel @emossssss @hanjsquokka @feelikecinderella @starlostastronaut @kpopsstuffs @lixxpix @jinnie-ret @bangchans-angel @puppyminnnie @michelle4eve @kpopsstuffs
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everlastinghistory · 19 hours
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“Everyone who becomes a housewife ends up in a bad situation eventually!!”
My mom has 4 sisters. Her and almost all of her sisters are currently housewives. Whether they worked previously or not that’s what they’re all doing currently except for one of them who wishes she could be like them. One of them who got married at 19 has always been a housewife.
Y’know her current situation? She had 3 kids, unfortunately, one of them died in his late 20s, but the other two are now in their 40s and still have as strong a relationship as ever with their mother. She stayed home when they were little and developed a proper lifelong bond with them. She has a husband who supports her both financially and as a person. She has a puppy she adores. She gardens and bakes cookies and cooks dinner and knits and she loves all of it. She has a cottage she spends every summer in where she has a second place to do her gardening with much more space to work with.
My mom is a housewife. You want to know her situation? She watches her favourite TV shows, knits, cooks dinner, runs an Etsy shop from home because yes you can work from home and still be a housewife and she’s always there when me or my sister needs something.
Only one of my aunts have ever been divorced. And even after that she didn’t just crumble into nothingness like people seem to think will happen. In fact she’s now happily married again and has been for quite a few years now. As a housewife. Because she doesn’t live in fear of the “what if’s”. She enjoys her life and maybe you should try that too. Because if you’re so miserable that you’ve started telling other people their life is going to go badly… I think your life is going badly.
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penaltyykill · 11 hours
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gimme fuel, gimme fire | timo meier
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📓 3k words
📝 authors note: it’s timo time baby 🤭 this one is slightly unhinged and i may have made myself into even more of a timo girly after writing it lol, i hope you enjoy 🫶
⚠️ warnings: MDNI. 18+. smutsmutsmut did i mention smut?
you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in a few weeks, between his hectic hockey travel schedule and the fact that you two didn’t live together, it meant that you were constantly left longing for his touch, to hear his voice in your ear, the smell of his expensive cologne, his big strong arms, among other things…
you rolled your small suitcase into the five star, las vegas hotel he had booked for the two of you to stay that night. timo had a day off, and although his team comped him a room at a hotel that was “just fine,” in his words, he wanted to treat the two of you to something a little more special, somewhere away from the halls his teammates also slept.
you’d just flown in that afternoon, and now you stood in the crowded luxe hotel lobby, searching for his distinct tall broad frame amongst the throng of guests.
then you saw him, walking towards you with his unmistakable swagger. his tight, oh so deliciously tight, chino pants stretched tightly over his muscular thighs, his linen shirt’s top two buttons unbuttoned to display his broad collarbones and gold chain necklace. with his, probably designer, sunglasses perched atop his perfectly styled brown hair, he drew a few prolonged glances from the other guests, and you didn’t blame them.
he finally closed the space that felt like miles between you and wrapped his enormous hands around your waist, “hello my princess,” he spoke to you in his swiss accented voice. some words sounding more american than others— he had spent too much time in the bay area, you sometimes thought.
you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled the much taller man down into a light kiss, desperately wishing you weren’t the subject of a few too many stares in a crowded public place.
you pulled away and his icy blue eyes found yours, “hi timo,” you whispered to him as you stroked the stubble that he had let start to grow on his sharp chin.
“let’s put your bag upstairs, i’m taking you out shopping,” he spoke, moving his hand to the small of your back, taking your suitcase from your grip and leading you to the hotel room. oh, how he spoiled you. you were just a simple girl who didn’t expect anything at all, who worked her ass off and didn’t have anything in life handed to her. maybe that’s why timo found you so special and deserving of his attentive, giving, love language. and boy, was he giving.
you hurriedly followed him up to your new home for the next 24 hours. he opened the door to reveal a spacious suite with a huge bed stacked with the fluffiest pillows, a large window overlooking the city of neon lights and the most beautiful bouquet of lavender roses you’d ever seen.
your eyes lit up at the flowers, arranged delicately in a vase on the room’s coffee table. you walked over to smell them and timo followed you closely.
“you like them?” he asked, although he already knew you would, he knew what you liked even when you didn’t tell him, he just picked up on these things.
“yes i do, mr. meier,” you placed your hands on his chest and looked up at him. he raised one of his thick, dark eyebrows at the name you’d just called him and focused his eyes on your lips. he pulled you in and collided with you hard, lips attaching together like magnets. you had missed each other so much, how sweet it was to finally taste him again.
you tried to push him backwards onto your hotel room’s couch, but he was too strong and resisted your feeble attempt.
he stood his ground, “princess, i have a whole day planned for us.”
“please, just need to kiss you,” you stared up at him with desire clouding your widened eyes, how could he deny you now?
timo gave in, and backed up to sit on the couch. you stood over him and debated your next move, opting to straddle yourself on one of his strong thighs. he quietly grunted when you ground yourself down on him, leaning further in to meet his delicious lips again.
he tangled his rough hands in your hair as you continued to taste his tongue on yours. you began to rock your hips back and forth absentmindedly, the friction feeling so good underneath you.
he let a soft moan past his lips into yours, causing you to grind down harder onto his thigh.
“princess,” he spoke between kisses, “later, i promise you.” he held your chin in his large grasp, you felt the cold metal of his watch graze your cheek.
you laid your head on his shoulder, defeated, and got up off of him.
“let’s go, my sweet,” he softly grabbed your hand and led you towards the door.
***
the las vegas strip was bustling with tourists as the two of you stepped out onto the busy street. timo’s hand engulfed your much smaller one as you walked into store after luxury store, him insisting you get whatever you wanted, as long as you tried it on for him later.
as the day wore on, you both started to drag your feet, sweating in the hot, dry nevada sun, before you spotted one more store you wanted to stop in. you pulled timo to the entrance of a dimly lit lingerie boutique, and his eyes widened.
“you,” you placed your hands on his broad chest, “wait outside.” you smirked and turned to open the shop’s door before you felt a strong grasp on your forearm. timo was holding out his credit card for you.
“get whatever you want, my princess,” he smiled while holding the bags of your newly purchased items, where he had repeated that phrase store after store, “s’long as you try it on for me it later.” you nodded, you knew the rules. you reluctantly took the card and headed inside.
your fingertips grazed the racks of delicate lace, silk, and tiny little outfits that you were sure didn’t cover much. you looked out the window of the shop to see your boyfriend casually leaning against the wall outside, looking at his phone. you noticed a small group in familiar red hats approach him and ask him for a photo, to which he obliged. he spoke with them for a few moments and your heart fluttered at the way he interacted with one of the younger boys with the group, crouching down to meet the adolescent at eye level and sign his cap.
you continued shopping, stopping at a display of a mannequin wearing a red lace bodysuit, that perfectly covered not much at all. you found your size and brought it to the register.
you returned to your waiting boyfriend outside, a small black bag stuffed with tissue paper in hand. you handed him back his card.
“thank you, baby,” you stood on your tippy toes and placed a peck on his lips.
“anything for you,” he replied back, now guiding the two of you back to the hotel to drop off your purchases.
“hungry?” timo asked you as you got back to your room, you both relishing the air conditioned space.
“yes, any ideas?” you were prepared to have the typical what are we eating conversation that every couple oh so loves.
“i—“ timo was cut off by his phone buzzing in his pocket. he reached down to pull it out and muttered, “fucking nico.”
you laughed, the two of them were so close they acted like an old married couple sometimes. timo answered the phone in swiss german and you could hear the man on the other hand start rambling in the language, foreign to you now but timo promised he would teach you someday.
timo listened to his captain drone on about something, and empathetically mouthed, “i’m sorry,” before sticking up his five fingers to nonverbally tell you five minutes.
you looked down at your sweaty clothes, and decided to take the moment of alone time you had to hop in the shower. before doing so you grabbed a few of the shopping bags from the day and brought them into the bathroom with you, including the little black lingerie bag.
the cold water brought you back to life, as you rinsed off the long day. you dried yourself off with one of the soft hotel towels and reached into the little black bag. you pulled the red lace bodysuit over your bare skin, staring at how you looked in the mirror. the delicate lace lay over your body, stopping just at the top of your breasts, almost exposing your now erect nipples.
you hadn’t noticed until now, the opening at the base of the bodysuit which exposed your now aching core. you could barely contain yourself now, but needed to push your dirty thoughts to the back of your mind until later. you pulled on the spring dress timo had bought you earlier, it only just covered the red lace. you were more than a little turned on at going to dinner wearing this underneath, keeping it a surprise for timo until you got back to the hotel room later that evening.
you exited the bathroom, to find timo done with his phone call.
“you showered without me?” he teased, and walked over to grab your waist, “look so beautiful.”
“i’m going to hop in the shower quickly,” he continued, “we have a dinner reservation to get to.”
***
the beautiful swiss man’s eyes were heavy on yours, as you drank from your glass at the white linen tablecloth restaurant he had taken you to. you both didn’t have to say much, it’s almost like you knew what the other was thinking. you couldn’t wait to be done eating and be alone with him again.
when timo signed the check at the end of dinner, he practically sprang up from the table as if his seat was on fire. he grabbed your hand and he called a black car to bring you back to the hotel. you sat closely next to your boyfriend in the plush back seat, his hand ever so slightly under your dress, gripping your tender thigh. he placed a quick kiss to your neck, and the shoulder of your dress slightly fell off your shoulder to reveal the red strap of the lingerie you wore beneath it.
his thick fingers grazed over the strap, “what’s this?” his eyes were so dark now, so focused on you. you said nothing, just pushed his hand lightly away and fixed your dress. he shifted awkwardly in the back seat, needing more than anything for this car to drive faster.
timo cursed under his breath as another couple entered the hotel lobby elevator with the two of you. you backed up closely into him and felt him already hard beneath his pants. you decided to toy with him by jutting your ass into him harder, knowing he was powerless to do anything.
the elevator arrived at the strangers’ floor, and they left you two alone in the elevator. there were still a few more floors to travel until you got to your own.
“princess, that wasn’t very nice,” he growled into your ear. the elevator dinged again, this time for you.
“i can make it up to you,” you said, turning back to him, and slipping your dress off your shoulder to reveal some of the red lace that hid under the fabric. the both of you walked urgently to your door, timo fumbled with the key card before entering into the room and slamming the door behind him.
“lay down here, right now,” he ordered you onto the bed before climbing on top of you, his hardness now so visible in his light colored pants.
timo’s fingers laid over the zipper on the side of your dress, pulling it down slowly to release your lace covered body to him.
you wiggled out of your dress and scanned his face for any clue of the reaction you hoped it would elicit from him.
“look so perfect for me, princess,” he spoke lowly as he still hovered over you, hands now lightly dragging down your body, causing you to clench your legs together at his touch.
he moved his large hands up and down you once more and rested them at your breasts, just where the top of the lace stopped, and pushed the fabric obstruction out of the way so he could take your nipples between his calloused fingers. the sensation caused you to dip your head back into the soft bed and absentmindedly open your legs beneath him, revealing your bare soaked core, not covered by any of the red lace.
timo noticed, “oh?” he delightfully said as his fingers trailed down to your pussy, which was so desperate to grip onto any body part he would give you.
he traced his thick two fingers up and down your folds, so slick now in anticipation for him.
“my princess is so wet, i bet she tastes so good,” timo narrated into the air to no one, as he angled his head at the front of your pussy and dipped his face in.
you felt his strong nose graze against your clit as he lapped up all of your juices with his flat tongue, before inserting two fingers inside and meeting your eyes.
the tip of his nose was covered in your wetness, the sight of it making your body quiver. you whimpered as you felt the scruff of his beard against your thighs as he dove back in to suck harshly on your clit. his name escaped your lips as he ate you out, grabbing the top of his head and pushing it harder down. his once perfectly gelled hair now messily tousled and small strands lay hanging on his forehead.
your legs were now shaking hard and you felt your peak approaching, when he removed his mouth from your core and met your now tear filled eyes with his own.
“need to watch my pretty princess cum for me,” timo whispered on your thigh while still meeting your eyes. he then inserted a third finger into you and began to pump in and out, not breaking eye contact.
“fuck timo—,” you gripped the sheets with one hand and held his head in the other, still staring into his eyes, now so dark with desire, as you came hard on his thick fingers.
your body lay shaking on the cold white sheets as timo removed his fingers from inside of you and brought to them up to his lips where he sucked your orgasm clean off of them.
“we’re not done yet, princess,” he said as he began to undo his pants, then his shirt, as you lay, still a mess, below him, waiting.
you drank in his broad frame, his muscular arms, the veins in them straining through his skin as he crawled up the bed again to hover over you.
your eyes dropped down to admire his thick length, now free from the fabric that could barely contain him. you reached your hand up to palm his cock and he dropped his head back and moaned, his adam’s apple so strongly protruding from his wide neck.
“can you handle some more, sweetness?” he said as you gripped onto his cock tightly, trying to guide it to your aching hole.
you nodded your head enthusiastically, not caring how needy you looked for him, he relished in how much you wanted him then.
timo took his cock from your grasp and moved it towards your dripping pussy, lining it up. he pushed it in gently before meeting your eyes, “you ok?” he said sweetly, and you nodded.
he took your affirmative nod as permission to drive his cock into you, hard, and began thrusting in and out. the sweet sounds of skin bounced around the room as you watched him rail into your still lace-covered body.
timo placed his large hand on your lower stomach and pushed down hard, further multiplying the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you at an increasingly rapid pace.
his fingers gripped onto the opening of where the lace lingerie revealed your pussy, and he began to pull it apart at the seams. his strong hands ripped the entire thing down the middle of your body, revealing yourself fully naked under him for the first time that night.
his hands wracked your body, making up for the lost time between the two of you. his face came to meet yours with wet open mouth kisses as he continued to fuck into you. it was all so sensual, so intimate, you felt your second orgasm building as his tongue swirled around your own.
you could tell he was close too, by the way his pace quickened. sweat dripped from his forehead onto your face, you were so close together now, you felt his hot breath on your cheek as he railed into you at an impossible speed.
he once again attacked your lips and bit down lightly on your bottom one, everything was too much all at once, you felt your stomach twist and you were coming hard on his cock. his pace quickened again as he felt you coat him.
“fuck, princess—“ he grunted into your mouth as you felt his cock twitch inside of you, now releasing his warm cum deep within you.
you were both breathing so heavy now, collapsed into each other, taking in the pure ecstasy running through your veins. he rolled over off of you and propped himself up on his side. timo’s eyes scanned your torn lingerie.
“i’ll buy you ten more, baby,” he apologized, running his fingers serenely down your cheek.
you didn’t care if he bought you anything ever again, all you needed was to be here with him now, feeling his sweet touch on your cheek, oh so perfectly.
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highfantasy-soul · 13 hours
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Princess Yue - Netflix Edition
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Yue's character concept is so cool, but in the animated series, like Suki, she was a cool concept that really just became a plot device rather than a full character.
The live-action fleshes her out as a young woman put in a position of authority over a tribe not just as a princess, but as someone with a part of the moon spirit within her, so she chooses to use that to be a spiritual leader of her people as well. She shares how she serves them, not just as a bride to be married off like in the animated series, but as someone who helps make desserts and councils them on spiritual matters. Yue has stuff going on outside getting married to Hahn and it makes her feel like a real person rather than a plot device. She has likes and hobbies and struggles like a whole character - ya know, stuff she can also talk to Sokka about to create a connection rather than just…thinking he's cute, I guess?
I love the additions the live-action gave her due to her having a part of the moon spirit within her! Being able to pop over into the Spirit Realm in her dreams was a wonderful touch and having her meet Sokka there added to their connection - she saw him as he was, not as someone trying to impress a princess. It also makes total sense that she's a waterbender - she has a piece of the moon spirit in her, the first waterbender - why would she not also have that ability? It was a great way also, to show subtly in the finale that her giving her life back to the moon would bring back waterbending as she bends even when the moon is 'gone'.
Her and Sokka's relationship, though still rushed, feels a lot more organic and understandable in the live-action. They bond over being in positions of authority and sometimes wishing they could just be 'regular people' so they both understand at least partially what the other is going through. It's beautiful that Yue falls for Sokka not because of his battle prowess or status as the warrior of his village, but because of his heart - his first words when she meets him are of concern for his friends.
In the battle, Yue takes an active role with Sokka - not to fight, but to help get people to safety - showing that there are many ways to help during a crisis other than being a master in combat. She shows Sokka the hidden oasis not to stand by while Aang meditates, but to heal someone who'd been hurt - even if that someone was 'just a pet'.
Finally, I love giving her the agency to realize that she is the one who can bring back the moon spirit. In the animated series, Iroh is the one who prompts her, but in the live-action, she comes to that conclusion herself. It's just her and Sokka in the end and she makes her sacrifice. 
I couldn't tell you what animated Yue enjoys doing, what she values in a person, or what she did in service to her people. But I could tell you all those things and more about the live-action Yue. Even though she's only in 2 episodes, she's a full person and you know exactly how her loss will affect her people: the Grans will miss the princess coming in to the kitchens and helping with dessert, the people will miss getting advice from her, but hopefully, a silver fox will still be able to roam the Spirit Realm.
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kitten-of-bast · 3 days
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TLDR: I ended up becoming "tradwifey" because it fits the expectations and needs of my lion-self, and I think that's kind of funny because I was always sort of a raging feminist. My living situation is so wonderfully lion-like right now, and I wish for every animal here to find and create a future where they can live their animal lives through their human ones. Also, need help finding an analogy for doing chores in a lion's life.
As a young girl exposed to pinterest and instagram feminism, I never thought I'd be the one to stay home and be "tradwifey". But it weirdly makes sense when I assign it as another lion trait of mine.
I say tradwife for the funnies and I'm only referring to chores and cooking, we aren't Christian and we aren't having human kids. I found that I enjoy taking care of the house while my partner brings in the money. I'm only expected to get an easy part time job later on so I have some socialization and the extra money helps for saving. Just saying that feels like I'm violating some code of feminist comradery, but ultimately I know real feminism is about having the choice to be traditional or be a career go-getter.
But anyways, lion stuff. I like it because it feels like my male is out patrolling during the day and comes home with the pride's security (money). As the female I take down the food for the pride (feed the cats and cook our meals) and he will step in and do it sometimes too. I stay in the safety of our territory (the house) and watch over the cubs most of the time (our 5 cats). I have to leave and go hunt regularly (school now, part time job later), but I always come home to my pride.
Cleaning doesn't quite fit in this analogy, and maybe that's why it's still hard for me to do. I formed some weird kind of trauma around chores when I was a teen and had to actively work at it and get therapy in order to be able to do simple cleaning tasks. I never had to clean my lion territory, the outdoor environment cleans itself. Any suggestions on that part would be welcomed, if I had a lion comparison for it that could help me out.
Other than that, this is perfect for me. I am so grateful that I am in this situation with my partner and I wish every animal here the same kind of future. We can find and create situations that allow us to live animal lives through our human ones, we don't have to suffer forever.
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it’s sad how with bpd even when i’m feeling good i can’t enjoy it in the moment because i know it won’t last for much longer..
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crescentfool · 1 year
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does anyone else want to stick these two in the same room together or is that just me... i simply think they are adjacent in vibes... (+a bonus thing???)
get u a fictional guy that makes you feel like this... seeing these guys just evoke a Similar Kind of Brain Chemical and Response. Help Me.
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also have bonus yosuke doodle featuring the same brushes used here...! from january 23rd, lol.
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#fe3h#sylvain jose gautier#persona 4#yosuke hanamura#crossover#lizzy does art#umm... hi.... (looks away) this is cringe but i am free. what is life if not to draw your favorite characters together on the same canvas#for the record i do not intend to conflate these two as the same character because they are NOT#'lizz. what on EARTH do you see in these guys.' you know. i wish i could answer that. (actually. i can.)#experiencing both of these characters sent me into an absolute spiral of denial when i realized that i enjoyed them#Words Hard but Basically i think its fascinating how both sylvain and yosuke have like this happier front that they project outwards that-#masks the struggles that they don't want others to see... and while both of them do cringe shit thats incredibly stupid#both of these characters have shown themselves to have like?? actual braincells? (re: yosuke at the start of p4 + sylvain support convos)#granted the kinds of themes and messages each of them is meant to convey varies bc of the setting and stories they are in#the sylvain + yosuke pipeline.... oh also i think the fandoms tend to rationalize both of their behavior towards women as like.#a closeted bi case. it's kinda strange to me why they overlap in certain ways hm hm...#but its just so funny to me that like. idk. they're both unbearable. they irritating for a reason /s#i should really draw these two more often (in like separate illusts) they are so fun i love their color schemes and designs it sparks joy#ok ok god i had a lot more to say about that than i thought oops. um. yeah. i learned how to draw for stuff like this. worth itTM
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silenthillbunni · 2 days
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🍽️😔🎻
#soo blah blah need to vent again abt my health issue situation 💀#yuh so like im so sick nd tired of whats going on. nd not being able to just eat whatever i feel like whenever#it's emotionall draining tbh. im always thinking abt what i could maybe try nd im always like ohh gotta make sure the portion is small etc#it's annoying me sm bc i can def feel the effects of me not getting the right nd enough nutrients nd vitamins etc etc#i get dizzy nd my vision is hazy sometimes. nd im like forgetful bc the other the when i walked home i kept getting lost nd had to walk back#nd forth several times nd i was like ?!?!? what?! i've lived here for 25yrs nd now i just cannot for the life of me rmbr the way#also i am so weak in my body. like carrying even a small amound or books nd groceries nd walking for 30min makes me exhausted#my legs are actually shaking when i get back home nd every step feels like im walking in cement#plus i just wanna be able to go to the gym nd build muscle. but if i dont get enough protein in me i cant build muscles T-T#what else... yeah also i do miss food bc of comfort. like my coffee + chcolate everyday makes me genuinely happy lmao#but i just want the food situation to be normal bc even w veggies im like oh no that is too gas building that is too hard to digest etc etc#it's mentally gruelling to not know how tf to get all the important nutrients!! i def have several deficiences lmao :((#im so over it. but theres nothing i can do. i wish i could just not think abt it 24/7 tho#also. im the thinnest i've ever been BUT. i am constantly bloated so i look fkn pregnant. so i cant even enjoy looking the skinnier
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