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#i should paint something on the back of it...
a-b-riddle · 3 days
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Part Four
Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.
"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.
"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."
"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.
"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."
You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.
"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.
Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.
It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.
It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.
In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.
"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."
"You think it was a stunt?"
"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."
"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."
"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."
"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."
"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."
You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.
You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.
"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”
For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.
Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?
"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.
You were finally angry.
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lovelybrooke · 2 days
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Letters Never Sent (Yandere Malleus x Reader)
---
A letter wrote by Malleus Draconia, never sent to the object of his desires. Why don't you open it up and see what's inside...
masterlist
---
Dear My Child of Man,
I am writing this letter with no intention of you receiving it. 
Maybe this is "silly" as you would describe it, but I find myself slowly losing the restraint on my emotions as the days go by. My heart fills with unfamiliar feelings as I think of you, mixing together into an ever present sense of desire that makes me near shameful. 
I find myself thinking of you always, from the moment I wake, to the moment I fall asleep. You seep your way into my dreams, where for but a moment I can relish in the fantasy that is you. I dream of your soft voice, your comforting gaze, your addicting presence. You are so captivating that I often forget I'm dreaming, until I awake with an aching feeling I've come to know as longing. 
I long for you, I've learned.
I long for your voice, for your gaze, for your presence. I long for every essence of your being to be directed towards me. Some may call me a fool, scoff my way and paint me a madman, but I am nothing without my love for you, so it bothers me none. I often wonder if you think of me as intensely as I do you. I have to admit it is exciting, the mere thought of you reciprocating my feelings warms me so. It is intoxicating, even as a fantasy, simply imagining a life with you is enough for me. Somedays, I imagine gifting you with an unending dream, one where it is just us, away from the rest of the world. Away from duty, and work, and anything else that could distract us from each other, from our love. We would be together and we would be happy until the end of your days, and even after you're gone, I would continue loving you. 
You were always so opposed to the idea, immortality. I remember the look on your face when you realized just how long I had lived, the sadness, the remorse, the pain. At that moment, it was not something I feared, more accurately not something I thought much about. It was not until I met you that it dawned upon me that at some point, you would leave this world, and that it would keep moving. Time would progress, people would grieve, but they would move on, plants would sprout and grow and wilt and eventually grow again, but I would remain stuck. Stuck with my dreams and fantasies. Stuck with the memory of you so present it would be like you never left in the first place. 
Even now, I fear what the world would be like without you. Not much fills me with fear, my Child of Man, but I've found myself scared lately. The thought of you leaving, of going back to your home, and never returning scares me. It is almost comical in a way, I find myself dreading the thought even while writing this. You should be proud, how easily you are able to terrify me is an excellent skill, one many would love to possess. 
You were my first true friend, did you know that? I have Lilia and Silver and Sebek, but I've always been treated as above them, as something untouchable. You were the first person to treat me like an equal, to bless me with the wonderful feeling of friendship. I often find myself racked with guilt, why should I desire more from you when you've already given me so much already? It is selfish, to seek out your love so desperately when I've already taken so much from you. You are my friend, and I should value our friendship above all. 
But that is why I fear, because my love for you goes beyond the boundaries of friendship. I would even say it goes beyond the boundaries of love. It is a longing so deep I wonder if I'll ever be the same again, all while knowing that I am too engrossed in the feeling that is you to ever go back. A longing so deep I yearn with desire unexplainable to man, desire so profound and raw that I am sure you have changed something within me. A longing so deep the closest word to describe it is obsession, but even obsession doesn't explain the hundreds of letters, all unset, pilling away, all centering you. 
Fear, love, what do distinctions matter if every single one of my thoughts center you. 
I have no desire to send this letter, my Child of Man, but I hope with every meeting, every passing day, every time we are together, you are able to feel the love I hold for you. I hope my longing, my devotion, my never ending, boundless obsession is clear to you, my love. 
Because I fear what will happen when I run out of paper.
---
A/n: here's to me hoping that this will break my writers block.
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sweets3rial · 17 hours
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i wanted it to be you.
ch. 1 // ch. 2
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di!leon x fem!reader
summary: you wanted it to be him. he wanted it to be you. though, life is unfair. you don't always get what you want.
tags: much angst, some comfort, pining, talks about the past, talks about past relationships, flashbacks, ex-bf lsk, engagement/marriage, cheating/infidelity, affair, smut, car sex, p-in-v, unprotected sex, fingering, mating press, creampie, slow and sensual (?), regret, and even more sadness.
warnings: cheating on spouse (not cheating on leon and leon not cheating on reader)
word count: 7.5k
the sunset has always brought peace to Leon. it was like a rinse, a reminder that his day was ending and starting for someone else across the globe.
a reminder that the day was fading into night and then would fade into morning then night again. it was a peaceful goodbye, silent and celebrated by some in the world. 
the orange, pink, blue, and purple hues brought warmth to his heart. the soft breeze blew up from the cliff and into his hair, his deep brown strands flicking into his eyes and ticking the heights of his cheekbones. his cheeks felt cold to the touch just like his heart. 
unlike the beautiful view and sunset, the peaceful breeze, and the silence, the storm inside Leon was the complete opposite. his skin was littered with ugly scars that he tried his best to hide. there was a storm inside of his heart, tornados destroying his peace, and noise in his head he couldn’t clear. 
he couldn’t sleep, worried about too many things he couldn’t handle or solve. he was tired but sleep only made him even more tired. the nightmares he’d face every night made it hard for him to stay asleep. he’d shoot up in a cold sweat, slapping his hands around his comforter looking for something … or someone. 
nothing can erase the image of that bling, the blinding reflection of a diamond, blinding his eyes from his view of you. it wasn’t any ordinary ring, it was a wedding ring. it hurt, more than any knife or bullet that has painted scars on his body.
he couldn’t believe it. he wanted to deny that even though it’s been so long, that there was still hope. hope for the two of you, that one day time and fate would bring you back together. 
but it seems like fate had other plans. someone else caught your eye, maybe he’s better, maybe he’s enough, maybe he can be there for you the ways Leon couldn’t. 
all while, Leon has been waiting. he stares into the sunset and it reminds him of the warmth of your skin and the shine of your smile. he is planted onto the ground instead of floating on a high like he was when he was with you. he cries and he doesn’t have you to hug him. 
he stirs in his sleep and he doesn’t have you to calm him. he gets home tired and he doesn’t have you to lull him into a peaceful sleep. he’d fall into the crook of your neck, practically putting all his weight on you and you’d accept it with your arms wide open. 
you could barely wrap your arms around him but you still tried, running your hand up and down his back, cooing into his ear and placing soft kisses to his tears. it’s funny how two people can go from cuddling skin to skin to absolutely nothing in a day. 
even though he’s seen every inch of your body, held you in your most vulnerable states, touched you in places no one else can, spoken to you about the future, he even met your family. all that only for you to treat each other like strangers. he’s nothing but a stranger now. it’s not fair. 
he should be the one getting down on one knee and proposing to you. he should’ve been the one to see you clasp your mouth in shock and watch the tears of joy well in your eyes. he should’ve slid that ring onto your finger, he should’ve been the one. 
that man that you married doesn’t even know your jewelry of choice. he had no taste. Leon knew you much better than that. 
his fist clenched in the pocket of his leather jacket. 
it should’ve been him. 
he jumped at the sound of a car door shutting behind him, his head whipping around and his muscles tensing.
it was you. 
you had just crawled out from your car — parked next to Leons. your facial expression was indiscernible but he could tell you were shocked to see him. though, you weren’t alarmed. he watched as you pursed your lips, “you’re here.” 
it was more of a statement rather than a question. the sound of your voice instantly stilled the storm in his mind. suddenly, there were clear skies and sunlight. no more rain and thunder. no more noise. just silence and peace. 
there you were, standing there so casually in a sweater and jeans. nothing has changed but at the same time so much was different. 
he shrugged, hands still in his pockets. 
“i’m here,” 
he watched your lips curve into a chuckle, he wasn’t sure if his heart had stopped or if his heart was racing at a rapid pace.
you were just as beautiful as the day he lost you. it left him speechless at how gorgeous you can be, in any setting, with any hairstyle, wearing any clothes — preferably his clothes. he loved it watching you dig through his dresser to pull out any old t-shirt. 
it’s all you would wear around the house. his clothes. 
your head dipped down as you walked towards him. slow footsteps, dead leaves at your feet crunching as you got closer and closer. he could feel his heart speed up with each step. blood rushing to the tip of his ears and his cheeks, now warm with a small blush. 
you slowed your steps down at a tree — your tree. your hand ran over the initials carved into the bark. your heart instantly stung at the sight and memories were quick to play in your head. 
it was a late night, both you and Leon had leaned up against this very tree. 
you two were enjoying the peace and he was pointing out the constellations in the sky. you weren’t keeping memory of what stars connected to make this instead, you were looking at him. listening to him speak. 
you always loved listening to his passions. 
there was a certain glimmer in his eyes that always captured your eye, that glimmer that indicated he was happy or excited. if you asked him what his favorite band was, he’d spark up, or even when you’d laugh at his horrible jokes. his eyes would gleam, his smile would grow and his face would no longer look so … tense. 
it hurts that you haven’t seen that look in a while. 
you smiled, tracing the tip of your finger over the ‘scar’. he had carved your initials into the tree and back then, it was still bright green and fresh. you remember laughing at how he struggled to carve a heart with the tip of his combat knife. it was cliche, something kids would do, but you were kids back then. free and in love. 
you let your hand fall back into the pocket of your jeans as you continued walking towards him. he kept his eyes on you the whole way, still as enamored as he was before. 
no, he couldn’t be. you were going to be married soon. 
“how are you?” he asked while clearing his throat. 
“i’m…” you paused looking out into the horizon. meanwhile, he was stuck looking at you. the orange light from the sun warmed up your skin beautifully, a natural glow highlighting the tip of your nose and your cheekbones.
he is reminded too much of the memories you two made when he looks at you. 
he loved kissing the tip of your nose and nudging the tip of his into your cheeks. you’d complain at how cold the tip of his nose was and then he’d instantly warm your skin with a kiss. 
“i’m alright, how about you?” you finished staring back at him. if you were being honest, you weren’t alright. you were having many many doubts.
did you get engaged too fast? are you even in love? should you have said yes? is he the right man? will the wedding be a disaster? who are you going to invite? 
all these thoughts were rushing through your head and you needed peace and quiet. so you went to the only place that could relatively give you that. your spot, the one you shared with your past lover. 
“i’m still standing, aren’t i?” 
you chuckled, such a Leon thing to say. 
“also, uh congrats,” his hand left his pocket and gestured down at your left hand. instantly, the cold weight of your wedding band became apparent to you and a chill ran through you. hiding your hand behind your back, you smiled up at him. 
you knew how much it hurt him, you could see the pain and the dullness in his eyes. they weren’t glimmering, he wasn’t happy. 
“thanks,” you smiled, timidly. 
“when’s the wedding?”
“um, don’t know, still trying to figure that out,” you breathed out, tucking a coil behind your ear. “just like everything else in my life,” you mumbled out the last part but Leon heard it all along with the fact that you were wearing earrings. 
~
‘i uh,’ he was bad at giving presents. he always was. he wasn’t sure if the recipient would like it or not. 
‘i got you these but-‘
‘Leon! ‘ he watched your eyes shoot open as he brought the small velvet box into your view. 
‘yes?’ he asked with a lift of his brow before flicking open the box. a set of beautiful earrings that were small and childish but they reminded him of you. 
‘oh! i love them!’ 
‘out of all the things i bought you, these are your favorite?’ he tsked, tucking your hair behind your ear as he prepared to put them on for you. 
‘i know but they’re cute,’
‘silly goose,’
~
he’s seen you happy many times before but that was pure joy. the way you jumped into his arms and hugged him with the grip of a gorilla. they were simple earrings from a small shop, but he watched as you grazed your fingers over them in awe. 
you asked how much they were and winced back at the price. nothing was too expensive to Leon, as long as it was for you. 
his heart dropped at the sight of those earrings, they don’t even match your necklace-
actually, they do.
~
‘babe, want this?’
‘huh?’ you turned towards him away from speaking with another employee. 
‘they match your earrings,’ he tapped at your earlobes causing them to jiggle. 
‘leon, it’s expensi-‘ you were cut off by him placing a finger to your lips while shaking his head. 
‘shush.’
‘you don’t have to.’ he smiled, placing a small kiss to your lips. 
‘i want to.’
~
you’re wearing the matching necklace as well. both contrasting against your ring. one being gold the other being silver. he knew how persistent you were about matching your jewelry to your outfits and to one another. 
you never wore gold and silver at the same time. so why?
your hair dropped back down in front of your face with a gust of wind, hiding away your earrings. 
Leon steered his attention away from you and back down to his feet, “your hair is longer,” he commented. 
you lifted your hand up and tugged at a strand of your hair, “oh yeah, i guess so,” 
you haven’t even noticed, funny how time moves so fast but yet so slow for you. it only feels like yesterday that you and Leon were up here, sitting on a blanket and watching the day fade into the night. your hair was much shorter back then. 
“it looks good, suits you,” 
“thanks,”
the tension was only getting thicker and thicker. this was the first time you two actually talked ever since … god knows when. when you two broke up maybe? it left a bitter taste on your tongue whenever you thought back to it. 
it reminded you that you and Leon rarely argued. you two both worked in the same field, you both understood the weight and responsibility it was to be an agent.
but sometimes, when you love someone so much, you tend to ball up a lot of emotions in order not to hurt them. 
it was about time that you both would explode. 
“why are you here?” you suddenly spoke up, finally cutting the tension down a little. 
“i’m thinking of you…” Leon spoke honestly, “of us,” 
he watched as you froze, eyebrows curving upwards and the corner of your lips dropping into a frown. 
“Leon-“
“i am happy for you,” he was quick to cut you off, raising his voice over yours. 
“stop,” you mumbled out, dropping your head to avoid his gaze. 
“but why? how…” he paused, collecting his anger. he licked his lips and looked down at you. he watched as you bit your bottom lip and screwed your eyes shut. 
“why couldn’t we work?” he asked pointing between the both of you. 
“we were hurt, Leon,” you sighed, blinking away a tear before it could fall as you looked up at him. when you met his blue eyes, your heart sank. he was so hurt. he was still hurt. even after years, he is still hurt. 
“and hurt people hurt people.”
his sad blue eyes always hurt you more than any wound ever inflicted upon you. seeing him sad could easily bring you to your knees, as it is your biggest weakness. you were convinced that nothing could hurt you more than Leon. 
“we could’ve worked it out, we could’ve talked, gone to couples therapy,” he took a step closer to you, his body felt weak almost as if he had broken every bone in his body. “we could’ve done something,”
“i did something! i moved on, okay!” you suddenly shouted out at him, causing him to pause. “i found someone who can communicate and i found someone who doesn’t bottle up and hide away, he loves me-“
“does he?” Leon grimaced, you pursed your lips and hid away from him. almost, as if you were ashamed. he continued to slowly approach you as if you were a timid animal. he was gentle and slow. 
“see, don’t do that-“
“he doesn’t even know half of you, he doesn’t know you like i do,” 
“Leon, stop.” 
even if you told him to stop, you weren’t moving away. you two were opposite sides of a magnet, you couldn’t help but attract each other.
the smell of his cologne was dragging you back to him, the smell of his sweat and his shampoo. the sound of his voice. the warmth radiating off of him. 
it was something you were so used to. it was home. 
he grabbed ahold of your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. you instantly melted into him, the feeling of his rough palms was always better than anyone else. you could recognize his touch out of a thousand men. 
he was never rough, he was always gentle. he used his hands to kill but to also touch and soothe.
“please,” he whispered out. a breeze coming from behind you lifted the scent of your perfume off your skin and into Leon. you always had a signature scent, one that had his mind in a frenzy whenever it hit him. 
“i know your dream ring by heart, like the back of my hand.” he huffed out. you couldn’t help but breathe out the air caught in your lungs. he reached up slowly with his other hand, brushing your hair back to reveal your earrings. 
“they matched these exact earrings,” his hand traveled down to pick up the pendant of your necklace, “and this necklace.” 
as he turned the pendant around, your initials were carved on the back, the same font and style as your initials on the tree. he still remembers going to the jeweler and asking him to engrave those two letters, with a really bad heart around them. 
showing him the picture of the initials carved onto the tree. you must treasure her. he had said and Leon replied, more than she’ll ever know.
“why do you still have these?” 
“because…they’re my favorite.” you couldn’t lie. out of the plethora of necklaces and earrings, you always reached for this pair. telling your fiance lies; oh, they were a gift from my father. 
“because they’re from you and i can’t let them go, i can’t…” you trailed off, looking down at his chapped lips. he was biting on the inside of his cheek, you could tell. you remember telling him so many times not to do so, you didn’t like it when he was anxious. 
you would always remind him that you were right there beside him, even if he was all alone. 
no words could explain what you were feeling right now. it was a mix of anger and sadness.
but it wasn’t the type of anger that made you want to lash out, it was the type of anger that made you want to cry and walk away. but the sadness was something else, it made you want to curl up into his chest and stay there. 
it made you want to go home. but home was where Leon was. 
Leon was the first man you’ve ever loved. you wanted him to be your first and your last. you remember looking at him and seeing a peaceful future. you thought, after you two split, that you were going to be able to start over again. 
with someone new, something fresh. but your fiance, he wasn’t Leon. he was great in his own way. he was handsome and kind. he was smart and caring. but he wasn’t Leon. 
sometimes, his voice would morph into Leons. his laugh would sound like Leon's. his pattern of breathing sounded like Leon's. you couldn’t escape him or maybe you just couldn’t let him go. 
“are you happy?”
his question caught you off guard, your eyebrows scrunched up at him, and you were slightly taken aback and sure that he meant something else. though, once you looked into his eyes you knew he was serious. “what?”
“does he make you happy?“ 
“stop.” you shook your head. 
“answer the question,” he gulped down the lump in his throat, searching for something and anything in your eyes to prove that he was wrong. 
“yes,” you stammered out. his hopes died then and he nodded slowly, understanding that there was no longer a place for him in your heart anymore. he was happy that you were happy, but he just wished you were happy with him. 
he let go of your hand, letting it drop to his side. 
“but,” he was taken aback when you reached back for his. you wrapped your hand around his pinky, halting him in his steps. “i’ll never love him like i loved you.” 
his eyes flickered up to yours, only to meet the top of your head as your head was tilted downwards towards the ground. you were fighting back tears, your bottom lip shaking. 
“he makes me happy but the very thought of you has me overjoyed,” you looked back up at him, a tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and the tip of your nose swelling red. 
“he buys me designer clothes but i still wear your sweatpants i stole five years ago i-“ you continued to ramble and Leon just listened, his heart fluttering with every word. he never thought he’d hear those words spill from your pretty lips. 
“i still come here almost every day to look at the constellations you showed me,” you sucked in a deep breath, “i drive by the house, our house,” 
you let the tears fall freely as his hand slowly intertwined with yours again. he thought you didn’t pay any mind to him, that he was just a lost memory to you, that you couldn’t care less about him but…
“i still have all your gifts, your letters, your trashy collectibles, i…” you paused to suck in another deep breath, your hands shaking in his but you calmed down at the wind blowing his cologne your way. he was here in front of you and finally, you could tell him the truth. the one you’ve wanted to tell him for a long time. 
“i wanted it to be you.” 
Leon's breath faltered as the words left your mouth. you wanted it to be him, not anyone else. 
without another word, he tugged you closer to him. it was a matter of seconds before his lips found yours, enveloping them in his warmth and passion. you reciprocated his kiss instantly. a tear falling down your cheek and meeting the corner of your mouth. 
he could taste the salty tear in your kiss, and it reminded him of the days he would spend kissing away your tears after you had a nightmare or cuddling you to his chest as you ruined another shirt with your tears.
his arms wrapped around the small of your back, bringing you closer to him as he pressed deeper into your kiss. he was holding onto you so tight to the point it was hard to breathe and even harder to stay put on two feet. 
his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, both eagerly and hungrily. as he did so, you opened your mouth for him. his tongue met yours in a wet frenzy, and he moaned into your mouth as his grip on you only grew stronger. 
you took a few steps back, feeling as if you were going to fall. he only followed you in pursuit, up until you had backed up into the tree. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. your kiss was becoming sloppy, with wet lips and fighting tongue. 
he gave your thigh a quick two taps and you knew exactly what that meant. you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and he smirked against your lips. the fact you remembered, even after all these years, drove him insane. 
you let him carry you wherever he wanted, you didn’t care to look or pull away from his lips. you trusted him. if he were to take you away right now, you would go. you’d leave with him and live the life you always wanted…with him. 
he pressed you up against his passenger door, unintentionally slamming your body into the metal. the only time Leon was ever rough was during times like this. desperation, hunger, and pure lust. his hand frantically searched for the back door handle. 
the minute he got it open, one minute you were pressed against the door and the next you were being thrown into his backseat. you landed on his leather seats with a loud thud, your chest heaving up and down as you stared at him. 
his eyes were no longer gentle or sweet, they were filled with lust and something devious. but also something so deep and passionate. he was hungry but he was never greedy. 
he slowly crawled into the car as you crawled away. he was out of breath, cheeks flushed and lips swollen pink. you looked up at him as he slowly crawled on top of you. 
he hooked his foot into the door handle and he pulled his knee up to shut the door. his eyes stayed on yours, he didn’t want to waste another word or breath. he slid his fingers through your hair, taking a hold of the back of your head. 
it suddenly dawned on you what had happened and what you two were doing. he was leaning down to meet your lips once again and you forgot. to you now, this was another late night, you two had just carved your initials onto the tree and he had just got his new car. 
he was still blonde and your hair was shorter. he didn’t have his bullet wound and you didn’t have a scar on your hip. you didn’t have this heavy ring on your finger and you were still young. 
you leaned up onto your elbows, meeting him halfway with just as much heat. his hand traveled up your thigh, guiding you to wrap your leg around his waist once again and you followed. just like before, you followed his every instruction. 
“god, i missed you,” he breathed out with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. he then traveled down your jaw, with slow wet kisses. your whole body shivered as he found that spot just south of your earlobe. you sucked in a shaky breath. 
“Leon, please,”
“patience, my love,” he tsked. your legs tightened around his neck, even though he said you needed patience, you needed him. you missed him so much, a part of that was the sex. the sex was fucking amazing. it always was, from the very first time you met until now. 
he fucked you in a way you could never comprehend. he knew just the right things that had the breath leaving your body and your heart leaping out of your chest. 
as he kissed at your collarbone, his hands were traveling up your sweater. large, hot, and rough. his hands felt like sand paper against your soft skin but god it felt so good. you let out a trembling breath as you ground your hips into the buckle of his belt. 
he groaned at the friction, grinding his erection down to meet your hips. he could feel your heartbeat pulsing at your heat through both of his jeans. it was evident that you both were in dire need of each other. 
his calloused hands cupped at your bare breast and he groaned into your skin at the feeling of your bare skin. something he hasn’t felt in so long, your warm and soft skin. his cock jumped in his jeans, just the taste of your skin has driven him crazy. 
he felt dizzy, he hadn’t breathed or blinked ever since his lips hit yours. he didn’t want to waste a single taste or glance. he circled both of your pebbled nipples with his thumbs, smirking at the small whine that left your mouth. 
“no bra, huh?”
“shut up,” you grumbled, beyond sexually frustrated. 
he couldn’t help but laugh as he dragged your sweater off of your body. he tossed it somewhere in his front seat and you could see in his eyes that excitement.
he stared at your breast in complete awe, your body was something Leon worshipped. you were his god and he was all but a simple beggar on the street. 
he always stared at you as if you were some distinct painting; taking note of every small detail, every mole and every scar. even if he’s seen you a thousand times, he always acts like its the first time he’s laid eyes on you. 
“my gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” he sighed, his lips meeting yours in a quick kiss, “how can you be so perfect?”
your heart fluttered at his words, he never failed to have you utterly speechless. 
you trailed your hands over his shoulders and underneath his leather jacket. as you slowly worked his jacket off of him, eyes watching every inch of skin slowly being revealed to you. his muscles flexed underneath his t-shirt as he shrugged his jacket off and threw it somewhere into the front of the car. 
he then pulled his t-shirt over his head in a quick and rushed manner, throwing it along with the rest of his clothes. he’s grown more muscle and definitely bulked up since you’d last seen him. he’s always been so perfect. his body was nice and toned, decorated with firm and chiseled muscle. he was like a marble statue, the ones in the museum with gorgeous proportions and sharp features. 
how can he be so perfect?
he leaned back over you, and rather than your lips in less of a rush of lust, he kissed you slowly and passionately. the feeling of your sensitive nipples brushing up against his warm chest made you shake and let out a small whine. 
his hand traveled up your side again, taking your breast into his palm, and squeezing your nipple between his index and middle finger. you shuddered, a small moan leaving your lips as his other hand traveled down to the button of your jeans. 
he worked his way around the hem of your jeans to take off both your jeans and your panties at the same time. you reached down for his belt, struggling to unbuckle it whilst also struggling to shimmy your pants off of your hips. 
the windows of the car were beginning to fog up, you could barely see the outside, any light shining through was only a smudged blur. it was getting harder to breathe and much harder to think. as you kicked your jeans off, you were quick to help push off his. 
you both were as loud as you wanted, the sound of moans mixed with wet kisses and heaving breaths. 
“i need you, i need you,” you panted out like a prayer. 
he kissed down your chest, bringing your nipple into his mouth while his hand soothed the inside of your legs — sticky with sweat and arousal. you keened under his touch, your thighs shaking and your clit aching. 
you clenched around nothing, desperate for his touch. in your mind, you were counting down the seconds until he touched you. counting each inch that his fingers traced up your thigh. it was when his fingers slotted between your damp folds you broke. 
a desperate sob left your lips and your hips bucked. he moaned into your skin, pulling away from your nipple with a pop. “so wet, all for me,” he breathed out, pressing a small kiss to your breast.
his fingers prodded at your hole, collecting the arousal that dripped when you clenched around nothing. he could tell you were so eagerly waiting for him. eyes gleaming down at him and watching his every move. 
his thumb found your clit and he applied the right amount of pressure that had you arching your back with a small wail. the leather of the seats were hot, there was condensations dripping down the windows and it smelt heavy of sex and his cologne. 
“tell me, tell me what you need, baby,” he heaved out against your cheek. 
“i need you, i want … you,” you replied, out of breath and strength. with that, his inserted one of his fingers, the small stretch was enough to have your jaw hanging open and your legs quivering out of control. nothing and no one has ever had this much of an effect on you, not even fear. 
but Leon, he could make you weak with a simple glance. 
as you clenched around his finger, Leon found it hard to breathe. you were so warm and dripping all over his palm, he could smell your sex everywhere in the car, it was sweet and god it was good. he screwed his eyes shut, trying to contain his composure but you were driving him wild. 
each moan that spilled your lips with every stroke of his finger, he was teetering on the edge of sanity. 
he inserted another finger, slowly and carefully. he didn’t want to hurt you, but watching as your eyebrows curled upwards and your head tilt back, he knew he was doing everything but hurting you. 
a deep moan spilled from your tongue as he curled his fingers up into your gummy walls. at the same time, his thumb pressed circled against your clit. 
“oh god, please-“ 
“calling on god in a situation like this is pretty sinful of you, baby,” he snickered. you wanted to slap him across the face for such a comment but you could barely process his words, your mind was too focused on the pleasure he was giving you and drooling at the thought of his cock. 
he could feel you pulsing around him whilst dripping with need. each curl of his fingers earned him a thristy moan and a squelch. he kissed down your neck, in between the navel of your breasts, and down you stomach. until he reached you abdomen. 
he sucked at your skin, hoping to leave a mark where it wasn’t too noticeable. the pressure on your abdomen along with the pressure of his fingers curling inside of you caused your legs to clamp around him. 
“fuck!” you whined out, carding your fingers through his hair. one of his hands traveled up underneath your thighs, bringing them to rest on his shoulders. your chest rose up and down with excitement, your heart thrumming up against the cage of your ribcage and sweat trickling down your face. 
you took a moment to admire him, kissing at your abdomen while his fingers circled at your swollen clit. he was so pretty. his blue eyes seemed to glow, even if it was dark. the moonlight shining through the foggy windows highlighted the messy strands of his hair and made out every feature of his face. 
his jaw, his straight nose and his hooded eyes. he was beautiful, in between your thighs, standing in the sunlight, standing in the moonlight, asleep or awake, he was just beautiful. 
his lips traveled up between your thighs, kissing at the fat and nipping at your skin. you jumped at the feeling off his teeth but still you loved it. his tongue ran along the small bite mark before he created another. 
“mmm Leon,” 
“shhh,” he soothed, nudging his nose into your plump skin. 
he removed his fingers from your aching cunt with a small pop and before you could whine in protest, he tapped the side of your thigh because he knew that you were going to whine.
once you shut up, he smirked against your inner thigh and brought up his slicked fingers up to your mouth. you opened your mouth and allowed him to place his fingers onto your tongue. 
you swirled your tongue around his digits before sucking your slick off of them. he groaned at the sight of you sucking his fingers, eyelashes batting down at him and face glimmering with sweat. 
“so dirty,” he smiled, blowing air onto your clit. you shivered at the sensation. 
he kissed down your thigh until his tongue found your clit, flicking at the bud with the tip of his tongue all while looking in your eyes to watch your reaction. you moaned around his fingers, lifting your hips — eager for more. 
“patience, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your clit while taking his fingers out from your mouth with a pop. 
he slowly crawled over you, leaving kisses in his path. he finally reached your chin, placing a kiss there and then to your lips. he sucked in a deep breath through his nose, letting his hand run down your side until he guided your thigh back around his torso. 
he stroked himself a few times, groaning against your lips. when his tip nudged your clit, you opened your mouth with a moan, allowing him to stroke his tongue along yours. 
“tell me if it hurts,” he whispered to you, you gave him a reassuring nod and he shook his head. 
“i need your word-“
“yes, yes! i’ll tell you,” 
he slowly sank into you, watching your facial expressions keenly. you were overtaken with pleasure, your jaw hanging open at the painful stretch but also a moan boiling in your throat from your ache being relieved. 
he reached up for the car window behind you, looking for some grip. he left a hand print on the foggy window as his fingers trailed down to the handle. a groan left his lips and he buried his face into your neck, “fuck, so tight.” 
your gummy walls were pulsing around him, making it hard for him to breathe. you were so wet and so warm, making it easy for him to thrust in without any problem. Leon felt like a teenage boy all over again, ready to burst within seconds. 
his swollen tip pressed against your cervix and a whine left your lips. your toes curled and you struggled to suck in a breath, “so good,” you managed to squeak out, clawing at his back to leave scars. 
he slowly rocked his hips into you, grunting at each small thrust. you wrapped your legs around him, begging him to go deeper even if it hurt. one hand stayed on his back while the other ran up the nape of his neck and into his hair. 
“god, you’ve always taken my cock so well,” he whispered out into your ear, with that he began thrusting into you, causing your body to jolt and bounce with every connection of your hips. they were so and deep thrusts. 
he wanted you to feel every inch of his cock and he wanted to watch your face contort as his tip hit your g-spot every time. 
you arched your back into a moan and he took this chance to wrap his arms underneath you. he wanted to keep you pressed to him, he wanted to feel you because he knew this would be the last time. he knew you’d both regret your actions once the passion has died down but he wanted to live in the moment. he didn’t want to think of consenquences after this. 
he just needed to feel you one last time. 
“faster,” you begged, kissing the lobe of his ear. chills ran down his spine at the feeling of your hot breath and your dragged out words. he obeyed without question, pounding into you at a pace that has you sobbing. the car shook underneath you guys and both of you were sure any hikers could hear and guess what was going on inside his tinted jeep. 
“this pussy’s so good, fuck,” he seethed through his teeth, opening his mouth to bite down onto your collarbone. 
“mm fuck,” you whined out, tossing your head back and clenching your legs around him tighter. you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, with every thrust there was a wave sent through you. you could feel him in your bones. the tension was only getting tighter, your limbs were on fire but you liked the burn. 
you tugged him away from sucking at your breats and your chest, guiding his lips to yours in a rushed manor. you wanted to taste him. his teeth clashes against yours but it wasn’t long until you both found a rhythm. 
he moaned into your mouth, ignoring the ache in his chest from the amount of air. you were his air. he could breathe when he was around you, he felt light. you were his fix. you were his drug. you were his lifeline. 
you controlled whether his heart beat or stop. you controlled whether he was happy or sad. you controlled his mind, body, and soul. you had complete control over him and you just didn’t know it. 
you parted from his lips, a string of saliva snapping back onto your chin. “it’s too much,” you sobbed. you watched the inner corner of his lips twitch, almost as if he was about to smile. he brought your legs up over his shoulder, positioning you the way he wanted that way he cold fuck into you deeper. 
this new angle was enough to put you on the egde, a tear slipped past your eyes and your pupils had rolled back into your skull. 
“you can take it,” he heaved out, as he continued to piston into you. your brain was mush, you couldn’t speak or reply back to him. the only thing on your mind was the feeling of his cock stretching your walls and the sound of his voice. 
“Leon,” you stammered out. you were clenching around him tightly, your legs shaking and your moans spilling out nonstop. he knew you were close, he could tell from the look on your face. completely fucked out of your mind, not a single thought processing.
“my beautiful girl,” he reached down for your clit, “come for me,” 
he kissed another tear slipping down into your hairline as you whined beneath him. your breath was caught in your throat and you could see stars waltzing behind your eyes, you gushed around his cock while moaning out his name. 
he gripped the leather by your head, every taut muscle in his body relaxing as he spilled his hot seed into you. he pressed his tip deep to your cervix, hoping you’d feel every hot rope he gave you. he kissed at your cheeks slowly, slowly rolling his hips into you as you both came down from your highs. 
he was buried in the crook of your neck, heaving out deep breaths and in between them he said, “i love you.” 
your heart sunk. you could physically feel it. your blood ran cold and there was a pain in your chest. 
“i, i have to go,” you could feel his eyebrows scrunch against your shoulder as you sat up from underneath him. you hurriedly reached for your clothes as your sinuses began to sting and tears welled up in your eyes. you were so so stupid. 
how could you have done this? how could you sleep with another man when your wedding is in mere months? not just any man, but your ex. 
you struggled to slide on your panties, you skin still sticky with sweat and cum. 
Leon let his head drop as he listened to you struggle and cry. he reached out for you, “honey, wait-“
“no!” you smacked him away, turning to face towards him with tears in your eyes. “i’m sorry, we should’ve never done this, i’m so sorry,” you broke down and before you knew it he was scooping you back into his arms. 
you wanted to push him away but you had no strength, physically and mentally. “i should’ve never came here and-“
“shhh,” he soothed the back of your head, coaxing you into laying your head onto his shoulder. 
“it’s my fault for still-” you paused suddenly. Leons breath hitched and his body went still. 
“still what?”
“i’m sorry, Leon.”
you pulled away from him, refusing to look him in the eyes. it hurt too much to face him. he doesn’t know how much power he has over you. you couldn’t hide secrets or say no. you couldn’t lie to him. it breaks you to lie to him.
it hurts that you still love him so much.
you reached for your sweater in the passenger seat and throwing it on. 
“answer me,” his voice cracked and with that your heart shattered. you couldn’t turn around and see him crying. you just can’t. the hem of the sweatshirt sat on your tits as you put on your jeans. your throat was aching and you were trying not to cry. you felt like a child.  
“do you still love me?” he reached for your hand, stopping you from reaching for the door. you turned to face him, your eyes now puffy with tears and your lip trembling. you tried so hard not to let the tears fall but it was too late. he watched as you swallowed back a cry and let your hand fall from his. 
“goodbye, Leon.” 
those were the same words you spoke to him when your relationship ended years ago. it was like slow motion, his brain was catching the final moments of you. it was so odd seeing your back profile, even if he’s seen it so many times, it was odd to see it when you were leaving him. 
you left Leon there in your once shared apartment. 
now you leave him in a foggy car that smells just like you. 
as the door opened, he was hit with the fresh night air, cooling the sweat on his body. the smell of fresh pine hit him along with the smell of your perfume. there were sounds of croaking frogs, trees dancing in the wind, crickets, and your choked back sobs. 
then the car door shut. there was silence all around him. he was stuck watching your foggy figure fade away, watching you get into your car and drive off without looking back at him once. he remained frozen, unsure of what to do or say. 
all he could do was let a single tears run down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away. he leaned back into his own car seat, looking up at the roof with a heavy sigh. 
here comes the storm, once again. 
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(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)
tags : @xoxoloveless @luvrgreyy @ynsvnte @satinwithsilk @childchomper1 @porcelainseashore @stefoooo @spfoah @chesue00 @puppyina @prettyntxhee
notes: if you wanna be on my tag list pls message me or fill out the form below (just to make it easier on me :D)
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helvegen-s · 2 days
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Rage, rage | four
index
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Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC
Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.
Warnings: blood, bad language, talking about trauma, bad familiar relationships (King of hybern father of the year)
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Sitting in that chair, Nimue did nothing but absorb everything she saw around her: the paintings hanging on the walls, the rugs covering the floor, every detail placed on the shelves, the books arranged alphabetically...
It was all perfect. She had never imagined what the physical representation of the word "home" would be like, yet she felt it should be like this. In every carefully placed thing, she saw the affection behind it.
She stopped daydreaming and returned to the most pressing matter: the fact that, for some reason, she was tied to that chair.
Bound, but without seeing the ropes. It was an invisible force that pushed her against the wood of the armrests and the cushion of the backrest. She tried to suppress a laugh with little success because she knew effortlessly she could free herself from those ties. But well, if it made them feel safer, so be it.
She looked up, first to that male: Azriel, as she had heard others call him.
She still felt that sensation pulsing right in the middle of her being, making her gaze involuntarily go to him even in that room full of people.
Azriel felt like he was going to explode. He stood, leaning against the back of one of the sofas in the living room, positioned between Rhysand and Amren. With his arms crossed over his chest, he tried to control his breathing, counting to ten and releasing the air, counting again.
His wings trembled upon hearing the small laugh that escaped from the lips of that stranger. "What the hell are you laughing at? Do you find the situation funny?" he barked at the girl. She seemed surprised as her expression changed abruptly.
"No," she replied, furrowing her brow. She could feel the man's anger through that invisible thread connecting her to him. She tried to clear her mind. "It's just amusing that you have me tied up here. I can free myself at any moment, and if I don't, it's because I know you're afraid of me."
Rhysand's face must have been a sight. Afraid of her? He reinforced even more the restraints binding the girl to the chair, and with a sly smile, he took a step forward. "Dare to let yourself go, and you'll see what happens."
Was that some kind of sarcasm? Nimue didn't understand, she was just used to people speaking to her clearly, if only to avoid being in her presence more than necessary.
So she stood up, crossing the restraints of the High Lord like someone walking against a gentle breeze. Everyone jumped in their seats, reaching for their weapons or preparing to defend themselves.
But Nimue simply stood there, scanning from one to another: from the High Lord to Azriel, from the petite woman to Cassian, as she had heard Rhysand call him.
"I know you don't understand what I am or who I am right now, but it's okay. I'll explain it calmly, but you have to be willing to listen to me. You need me more than I need you."
Cassian let out a mocking laugh, "And why did you help us if you say you don't need us?"
And then silence fell.
Why had she helped them?
She had acted without thinking, that's for sure. She had never contradicted her father, and for the first time it was under such circumstances that something didn't fit deep within her conscience. She could excuse it with those memories that weren't hers: seeing those two humans in the Cauldron had awakened in her those memories from twenty years ago. But it wasn't just that.
Yes, she knew that within her, that idea of killing her father, ending him, stopping that plan he wanted to carry out and doing good had always been germinating. But in between there was always that rotten and unconditional love she felt for the King of Hybern, which was written in every cell of her being from the day she emerged.
"I needed an excuse," she said aloud. All the attention of those present was on her, and she kept talking. "I always knew my father was never the good one. I'm missing pieces of the story, I only know what he told me through filters. I know there are people in Prythian, I know there's going to be a war, I know everything revolves around the Cauldron. But I don't know much more."
My father.
When the girl uttered those words, Azriel felt a surge rising from the depths of his throat. How could a monster like the King of Hybern have sired such a beautiful creature?
Yes, beautiful. She is beautiful.
He stopped his thoughts abruptly, trying to ignore his own shadow's whispers. He was hallucinating, again.
"I also know that my father expected me to fight for him in this war, to incinerate Prythian's forces. He counted on an easy victory, however now..." Nimue's hands couldn't stop playing with the fabric of the dress she was wearing. It was then that she realized the pristine white fabric of her skirt was stained with blood, the blood of the Illyrians. She took a deep breath and continued speaking, "He's not going to take it very well that I've done this. That I've... betrayed him.”
"Well, don't tell me."
Nimue looked up at Azriel. Was that irony again?
Rhysand gave the Shadowsinger a stern look, and everyone fell silent again, waiting for the girl to speak.
But she didn't know where to continue. What should she tell them about herself? Should she tell them what she was?
And in the midst of the prolonged silence, the High Lord spoke up, "No one knew of the existence of a princess of Hybern. If you claim to be so powerful, why did your father never boast about you?"
There was something that didn't add up in all of this and had Rhysand uneasy. He felt the presence of the female, a pale, pulsating white light in the middle of the room. It was a strange magic, something he couldn't quite categorize within the fae magic that flowed through his veins. His gaze shifted to Amren, hoping she could shed some light on the situation, but to his surprise, she looked just as bewildered as he did.
"My father never wanted my existence to be known. I..." Nimue bit her lip, weighing how much revealing everything to this group of strangers would be a good idea. "I've never left Hybern. In fact, I've never left the castle."
"How old are you, girl? Have you been locked up in there your whole life?" Amren asked.
"It's hard to say how old I am. In this body, I've lived twenty years of yours. Before that... my memories are clouded."
"In this body? Before that?" Azriel inquired. He felt like he was going crazy, wanting to pull his hair out and scream. What was happening? Of all the outcomes he had predicted for today, this was certainly one he wouldn't have even dreamed of. "Tell us the truth, or I swear I'll slit your throat."
Nimue smiled, a poisonous smile she had learned from her father.
"I doubt it. If I have to kick your ass again like I did out there, I will," she held Azriel's gaze. And added, "And with pleasure."
Azriel snorted, baring his teeth in an aggressive gesture and reaching for his dagger. Nimue simply smiled, holding his gaze without flinching.
With that mask she had learned to wear.
Rhysand rolled his eyes and brought his hands to his face, trying to process everything that was happening.
They hadn't obtained the Cauldron, they had learned of Tamlin's betrayal, they had transformed his mate's sisters, and now this. It had been a very eventful day, to say the least.
"So you're trying to tell us that you've been in this world for twenty years, but before that, you were somewhere else, right? Do you remember where?"
"Yes," said Nimue. She tried to hold back another laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "In the Cauldron."
And they fell silent again.
The expressions on everyone's faces were like something out of a painting, and Nimue let out a quiet laugh.
She had never had to explain who or what she was; everyone where she came from knew. They all knew her.
"Well," she began calmly, "we all know my father, the King of Hybern. The fanatic, lunatic and power-hungry one."
"Yes, unfortunately."
"He impregnated one of his royal concubines, and in the midst of that madness, he decided to put her in the Cauldron. I don't know if it was under coercion from the Cauldron itself, if it was a demand my father made, or what. But the woman died instantly, and in exchange for her life, I came out of the Cauldron."
"So, you're telling me that the Cauldron not only has the power to turn humans into fae, as we've seen with Feyre's sisters. You're telling me," Rhysand took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts, "that the Cauldron granted the King a daughter in exchange for a sacrifice, no more, no less."
"Yes, but it's not something that will happen again. The Cauldron created me as its own whim, just as it has done with those two humans you mentioned. Feyre’s sisters…"
“Elain and Nesta.”
"Yes," said Nimue. "What it has done with them won't happen again. Not for a long time, at least. The Cauldron only responds to its own impulses, and I don't even understand them myself. Our fae minds aren't made to understand what the Cauldron is or how it acts. Not even the mind of that creature."
Nimue pointed at Amren, who crossed her arms with a sly smile.
"Well, on that you're right. Not even this creature," she said, pointing to herself, "is capable of understanding under what desires that pot acts."
And they all fell silent again, weighing the situation and assimilating what the girl had said.
Azriel was simply angry, furious. He couldn't feel anything else at that moment. He didn't care much about the Cauldron's affairs, nor did he lose sleep over trying to understand how it worked.
He just wanted to know why he had the misfortune of finding out that his mate, whom he had been waiting to meet since he was a child, had to be the damn daughter of the King of Hybern.
"And regarding your problem," Nimue continued, this time addressing only Azriel, "well, our problem. I never knew what a mate was, as you called it. I knew that the Cauldron forged the souls of people to be incomplete, so that if they were lucky, they would find the other half they were missing during their life. But when I saw you, when I felt it, I was able to understand. I'm sorry if it's been a disappointment, but it is what it is."
Azriel frowned, his arms crossed and the hair on his arms bristling. He felt like he was trembling with rage.
"I didn't ask for this, princess."
Nimue didn't want to admit it, but the pull of disdain she felt on the other side of the bond made her heart shrink.
"Great, neither did I."
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Taglist:
@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @donttellthecats @annblvd
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upsidedownwithsteve · 8 hours
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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.7K]
THE TIMELINE
"There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender. And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning, I never know what to think about. I think about you."
- About You By The 1975
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V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988
Two years had passed since the last gate had closed and despite the aftermath of the “earthquakes,” Vecna had yet to make any sort of reappearance. 
Max’s bones healed, eventually, and she regained most of her sight, relying on thick lensed glasses when she grew tired or the words in her books turned blurry. Nancy went to college, Jonathan tried it for a year, Hopper took El on a month-long camping trip to see something other than the town repairing itself and Lucas went to therapy. 
Soon, each kid followed suit, attending sessions that eventually helped them sleep a little better because even though they couldn’t tell the person on the other side of the coffee table about monsters and the world under their feet, there had been enough death and suffering to fill the hour with regardless. 
Dustin told Steve he should go too and Robin agreed. After Eddie’s funeral, the one where they all stood with Wayne, a guy from the garage Eddie worked at on weekends and the remaining Hellfire members beside a small gravestone, they had another one. 
A second ceremony near the woods behind Eddie’s trailer, close to where he died, to where Dustin had found him bleeding and proud. The kids cried and Joyce held on tight to Will while Jonathan hugged Nancy and Dustin punched a tree trunk. It felt better than the first one, easier somehow, when they didn’t have to lie and hide the guilt they had at knowing each and every one of them felt a little shame in having a hand in someone’s else’s death. 
But it was closure. 
The town healed, roads were repaired, houses rebuilt, new flowers planted in the park in memory of those who had been lost in the accident - the natural disaster that made headlines, the one that no one could have predicted. 
Steve helped Dustin clean Eddie’s grave when the spray paint covered the dead boy’s name. Robin stopped crying when she looked in the mirror each morning. Jonathan left his room. 
The kids got better. They smiled more, went to the new arcade on opening day, shared slushies and rode their bikes around town again. Joyce visited Wayne when she could, took him pies and meatloaf and eventually got him out of his armchair and into a coffee shop for a full hour. Hopper got his job back, had a ceremony that preceded the funeral he had years before and Robin managed to get her and Steve a sweet gig at the record store that replaced Family Video. 
It felt fresh. New. Clean. 
So why was Steve still dreaming about gates?
For the third night in a row, he woke up gasping. A yell stuck in his throat that tasted like metal, like blood, and he was drenched. Shirtless, his sheets stuck to his chest, the weight of them tangled around his legs in a sickly familiar way, vines tugging at his ankles. His room was dark, the house empty, too quiet. Quiet enough that his breath ripped from his lungs in harsh pants, his head pounding from the exertion of running in his dream, back in a place that he hadn’t seen in almost twenty one months. 
At first, he dreamt of death. 
Of Eddie and how they found him lifeless and in Dustin’s arms. How Max was barely conscious in the attic of the Creel House, her body broken in ways that no doctor could understand. He dreamt of how he had pulled Lucas away from her, the boy sobbing and yelling, fighting with more strength than he knew he had as Steve tried to restrain him just enough for the paramedics to get Max into the ambulance. 
Then the dreams turned empty. He dreamt of losing everyone, Robin, Dustin, Hop. El was gone, Will too, Mike nowhere to be found. Nancy’s house was empty, Joyce and Jonathan didn’t exist and Steve sat alone in a town that turned grey, crumbling to dust until the vines came back and the clouds turned red. 
He ran miles every night, searching for his friends, his family. Woke up to shaking breaths and sore legs like he’d really sprinted across a town that was no longer home and each morning when the sun rose, he sat with a coffee and his bare legs dipped in the pool in his backyard. He stared at the water until the ripples blurred and wondered how long it would take for Barb to come haunt him too, if she’d reappear in his dreams despite the years that had gone by, if she’d come crawling back out of his pool like she used to, dripping wet and with no eyes. 
But Barb never came and he stopped dreaming of the kids, stopped hearing Lucas’ screams, stopped seeing Max in a hospital bed with blood coming from her eyes and eventually, one night, he dreamt of a gate that he’d never seen before. 
It didn’t even really look like a gate. 
Not the ones Steve knew. It wasn’t framed by dead vines, it didn’t pulsate, it didn’t have a red glow coming from its innards. This one didn’t look like rotting flesh, like a wound in the earth that couldn’t be healed. This one wasn’t at the bottom of a lake, lined with wet moss and cracked rocks, it wasn’t in the Munson trailer nor in the middle of the woods. 
This one opened on a blank wall in Steve’s bedroom, replacing the shelves where his old basketball trophies sat, where he usually left his pile of clothes before falling into bed. In the dream, it started as a crack, a crumbling of plaster and blue plaid wallpaper and Steve watched it open, a yawning thing that split the room and bathed it in light. It was too bright at first, like blinking into a summer sun. And once the white-hot of it cleared from Steve’s eyes, he saw blue skies and he could smell the ocean. 
There were trees he’d never seen before in real life, something out of a movie, tall and green and narrow as they swayed in a breeze he couldn’t really feel from his spot on his bedroom carpet. The buildings were a pinky-peach colour, like clay, with orange slate tiles and there were foundations and statues carved into the walls, water trickling from the mouths of gods and vases that stone faced women held in their marble arms. 
It was like looking at a painting, a canvas between his bed and his old desk, framed with olive branches and large, red fruits that protruded from the gates mouth. 
Pomegranates. 
Steve could smell them, a sweetness that mixed with the ocean air, a kind of freshness that you couldn’t find between the fields and farms that surrounded Hawkins. In the dream, he wanted to move closer but found that he couldn’t, his eyes wide and his bare feet rooted to the spot as he stared at the scene. It felt like a memory the more he looked, the buildings becoming familiar, a baby blue door that looked like somewhere he’d once owned the keys to and the cobbled streets became a well walked way home. 
Then, as if he weren’t supposed to really see it, he spotted something move in an upstairs window. Two houses from the front of the gate, with rusted shutters and white linen curtains, he saw a girl stand between them. 
A pretty girl, with eyes he knew he’d seen before, in a white dress that he was sure he remembered the feeling of. 
The sight of her made Steve’s heart hammer, the dream making him dizzy, the realisation that he knew that girl making the line between unconsciousness and reality a little blurry. He didn’t know her name, or where he knew her from. He didn’t even know where he was looking or why the gate was there. 
But he stared and stared until the girls eyes met his and before he could lift his hand, or even try to speak, there was a crack that seemingly came from the sky - the one above Hawkins or the one inside the gate, he didn’t know - but something flashed, the gate went dark and the rip in his bedroom wall stitched itself back up. 
He woke up feeling like he’d remembered and forgotten something all at once. Like a book he’d read back in middle school, a photo he’d once misplaced, a song he hadn’t heard in years but still remebered some of the words too. 
He knew her. He knew her. 
Steve thought about the girl so much, so often, that it didn’t take him long to think of her, to refer to her, as you. You were someone he’d once known, from a memory or another dream, he wasn't sure. It was the same feeling as watching a movie and seeing a pretty actress on screen, in a different outfit with different hair but knowing her face and wondering what show he’d seen her in before. 
Except with this, there was an aching want that buried itself in his chest at the sight of you, an awful feeling that grew larger each night. And every time his wall cracked open again, it seemed like his ribs did too. A crushing feeling, a yawning expanse inside his body that made room for the way his heart seemed to grow and grow at the sight of you. 
Yearning, that’s what he thought it was. A slow, burning build of it. 
The second night, he dreamt of you in a garden. A sprawling, green lawn with a pond so green-blue it made his eyes hurt. There was an awning beside it, a pergola of sorts made of white stone and it had ivy growing between the pillars, covering the roof and reaching down to trail its flowers in the water below. You were closer than before, than you were in the window, and Steve could see the way your lashes hit your cheeks as you looked down, stitching something that you held in your lap. 
There was a wicker basket beside you, a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a cloth and he could still smell pomegranates, sweet and tart. There was a space beside you on the blanket, enough room for two but no one else came. 
You were always alone. 
Steve tried to talk to you, to reach out and see if this gate worked like the others, if he could walk through into this other world, this other dimension, but it didn’t work. 
Not yet, anyway. 
You seemed to notice him more on the fifth night, as he watched you walk along the edge of a lake. Your hair was shorter now and your clothes had changed. They look more modern, more like his, the cabins behind you reminiscent of a summer camp, a holiday lodge or something. He could hear music, a song he swore he heard on the radio not too long ago and that night, you watched him back. 
It seemed like you were waiting for someone. And when Steve saw your face light up with a smile, his heart stumbled. You raised your arm, reaching out a hand to the edge of the gate, off to the side as if someone else was in Steve’s walls. He saw another hand reach for yours, larger, definitely male, with a freckle where the thumb joined the palm. 
The jealousy he felt was unmatched, a burning thing that scorched his chest and his throat, hot needles at the back of his mouth. Before the man came into view, the crack in his wall trembled and the gate stitched itself closed once more, leaving plaster dust and flakes of paint on his carpet. 
Apart from the small mess, no one would have ever guessed another world opened up inside of Steve Harrington’s bedroom each night. 
It took him a week and half to notice his hand had a freckle in the same spot. A small beauty mark he’d never really paid attention to before, painted in the space that joined his thumb to his hand. He tried not to read too much into it, tried not to hold onto the hope that maybe it meant something - because none of this made sense, not really. 
They were just dreams. Strange things, brain scrambling things. But it was a welcome reprieve from death and darkness and vines that held onto him too tight. He no longer woke up in a cold sweat, he no longer wished for morning to come, no matter how tired he felt when he opened his eyes. 
Steve wondered if anyone else was experiencing these kinds of dreams. If the rest of the party were getting glimpses of other worlds, other timelines. He wasn’t sure what they were, too scared to ask, too afraid to make everyone else worry. The thought that these dreams could be a trick crossed his mind more than once, a new tactic from Vecna, an infiltration of his sleep that was meant to lull him into some kind of false sense of security. 
Safety - an unknown feeling. 
But everyone else spent their days talking about school and their new bosses, the fair that was coming to town to celebrate the town hall finally being rebuilt. No one mentioned Vecna or dreams or gates or girls they knew from somewhere they couldn’t place. 
So Steve accepted the fact that whatever these dreams were - whatever they meant - they were just for him. Which meant that you were his too. 
Weeks went by with Steve viewing you from the split in his wall, sometimes hearing music, sometimes hearing your muffled voice. Never real words, never loud enough to hear and it didn’t seem like you could hear him either. But Steve watched, enraptured, following you around different parts of the world, new countries and scenes that he could never really place but, oh my god, each one felt like home with you in it. 
Then one night, he saw himself. 
He felt the surge of panic flood him even in his sleep, his body jolting against his bed as he saw the familiar face, staring back at him, nonplussed. He looked a little different, maybe older. His hair was shorter at the back, cropped closer to the nape of his neck but the biggest difference was how happy he looked. 
This Steve, the one in his dream, inside this gate - this Steve from another time, another life - he looked lighter. He didn’t have purple smudges under his eyes, no deep lines settling across his forehead from frowning so much. His clothes were different too, looser, less fitting, the colours more muted. He wore a pair of jeans that looked much more comfortable than his tight Levi’s, a soft burgundy sweater that had the sleeves rolled up. 
Steve didn’t recognise where this dream took place, but he knew it wasn’t Hawkins. America, yeah, the street signs and licence plates on the cars in the street giving that detail away, but he wasn’t too sure where. The buildings were bigger, shinier, more glass than brick but the skies were still blue and it looked peaceful, warm. 
Safe. 
Dream Steve strolled down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking back over his shoulder every now and then as if to make sure the real Steve was following him. He walked past storefronts and stopped to pet a dog, a golden retriever who was waiting for his owner outside of a bakery. When he came to a bookstore, Steve could see a large building in the distance, a huge billboard atop it that looked like it was advertising a new movie, or a show maybe. It didn’t have much details on it, no actors nor dates to tell what year this was supposed to be. 
Certainly not 1988. 
It only had lettering across it, big and bold and red against a pristine white background: “ANOTHER LIFE.”
The bell to the bookstore jingled and then Steve saw you. As pretty as you had been in every other gate, every other world, every other lifetime. Like a figurine inside a snow globe, like something from a fairytale. Steve had never seen you this close before. 
He watched your smile, the way it widened at the sight of his counterpart, this other version of him. You were so pretty that his breath got caught in his lungs, his sleeping body kicking out in shock when you lunged at the dream version of him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in greeting. 
Steve watched the two figures embrace on the street, he watched how this luckier man got to bring his hand to your cheek and hold to there to kiss, how his lips - Steve’s own lips - met your own and parted them, mouths melting together in something that was so much more than a quick hello. 
Steve didn’t have it in him to feel jealous then. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He watched the hand that held your jaw, the thumb that caressed your cheekbone as you grinned into him, your own hands clutching his waist now. There was a freckle, the same as the one he had on his own hand, in the matching spot on yours. This Steve took that hand and kissed that very mark, smacking kisses across your palm and up your wrist until you were laughing, head thrown back, eyes bright. 
Steve hadn’t seen anything so happy. 
He woke up before the dream finished, before the gate closed. Steve woke up with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry in the navy gloom of his bedroom. It wasn’t yet morning. There was no gate on his bedroom fall, no new city between the plaid striped wallpaper. 
He thought it could’ve been Chicago, maybe New York. Perhaps Philadelphia. 
He wondered if he left and went looking for that bookstore, that street, that billboard, he’d find you too. If he was supposed to, if you were real, if this life was all he was supposed to get. 
Something told him otherwise, that open crack inside his chest that made him ache for hours after he awoke. He never forgot about you during the day, each life he’d watched you live, how you had grown your hair out and then cut it, how you seemed to change your clothing depending on where you were, from old petticoats to jeans and shirts with logos on them he’d never seen before. 
Steve felt like he’d lived a thousand lives with you. 
He wasn’t sure what he had to do to get you in this one. 
After two weeks of dreaming of this life with you, one that he was so sure would happen, he spoke to Joyce. He waited until the kids dragged Hopper out into the yard to help them with some sort of rocket they wanted to make and he found her in the kitchen. It was the closest kind of feeling he had to home - bar from the sight of you, but he wasn’t really sure if that counted when he was asleep. 
So he tried to sound casual when he leaned over the Byers kitchen counter, elbows avoiding the jelly stains that Mike had left after making a sandwich, and asked, “hey, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”
Joyce blinked at him, flour and butter between her fingers as she tried to turn the page in her recipe book back to the instructions for apple pie. The book flopped shut when she let go, her hands reaching for a rag instead. Her eyes never left Steve’s. 
“Uh, well. I guess so,” she paused, head tilted to the side as she watched the younger man, how his cheeks turned pink and his gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Why’d you ask?”
Steve didn’t know what to say then. So he floundered, flushed in the face and nose scrunched as he ran his fingers through his hair too harshly, hoping that no one else walked in. What was he supposed to say? That he was dreaming of gates in his bedroom walls? But it was okay? ‘Cause these ones didn’t have monsters or creatures set out to kill him, no, these gates held something that he thought he’d once had, that they held something he was so sure he was supposed ot have again?
Maybe, just not in this life.
Maybe, this time, something was broken. Wires were crossed, cut, unravelled. Maybe the upside down messed up a timeline, maybe it ripped apart whatever plan it had originally laid out for Steve Harrington. 
He didn’t know. But he knew it sounded crazy, even in his head.
So he shrugged and said, “no reason.”
And then that night, after Joyce gave him funny looks over the dinner she served him and the rest of his friends, the kitchen table full, he went home and lay on his bed, hardly bothering to pull the sheets over his bare chest.
He counted his breaths, hoped for sleep and wished for you.
Like always, his room grew darker, his lids heavier and the crack in his bedroom wall crumbled and split until the dust settled and he saw your face. You were alone this time, pretty as ever and in the same looking city he’d last seen himself in. The skies were blue behind you, the buildings still tall and shiny looking, all glass window panes and metal framework. If he concentrated enough, he could smell summer.
Hot tarmac and sunscreen, fresh fruit from one of the stores behind you, tart lemons and freshly ground coffee. 
You were looking right at him and even in his sleep, Steve smiled. Your eyes were pretty, too pretty, the colour bright and your gaze excited as you gazed at him. Like you’d been waiting. You held out a hand, coaxing, kind, soft, patient. And for the first time, when Steve reached out too, his hand slipped through the gate. 
He was right, about the season, about it being summer. The air inside this world was warm on his skin, like the sun was on him despite being sprawled out in the blue gloom of his dark bedroom. It felt like a July morning, right before the heat hit. 
He was almost touching your fingers when he woke up alone again.
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worldofkuro · 8 hours
Text
Painted Smile
Painted Smile VIII
<- Previous Chapter
Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: Well, well, well. Here another chapter for you my dears ! I hope you'll enjoy it! Reader and Alastor are getting closer and closer it's adorable...For now.
You went back inside with Alastor, his jacket still draped over your shoulder. Alice waved at you before staring at Alastor then at you, with a big smile. What? You sat back down on your chair and listened to the conversation which was now about the war. You didn't really want to talk about that for Christmas but..
You felt Alice nudged you, making you look at her confused, she was observing you with a teasing expression. You raised your eyebrows, before leaning toward her, she immediately whispered in your ear as you took a sip of water.
“ Your lipstick is smudged.”
She leaned back with an amused grin and pointed discreetly toward Alastor. You followed the direction she pointed and almost choked on your water. Alastor had lipstick on his lips ! You blushed furiously, did somebody else notice it ? You looked at everyone  around the table but they were way too focused on the conservation, even Alastor was talking with them. You hide your lips behind a napkin , staring at Alice with wide eyes. 
She seemed delighted ; hiding her smile behind her gloved hands. Should you go to the bathroom, to wash up? But it wouldn’t clean Alastor’s lips. You touched Alastor’s tights with your palm, which made him take your hand in his, his gaze turning toward you. You tried to point to his lips but he only smiled wider before tilting his head toward you. You leaned toward him and opened your mouth but he cut you off.
“ You already want another one?”
You threw yourself back against your chair as Alastor was laughing, throwing his head back. Everyone stopped talking and looked at the both of you, confused and curious. You took your glass, hiding your face behind it as they tried to coat you to tell them what had happened. It was Alastor who spoke first.
“ I just reminded my dearest friend that being gluttonous was bad,” he said with a cunning smile. Oh, he looked so full of himself ! You wanted him to be flustered as you were! “ You might get addicted!”
“ Unlike you, I don't have food all over my mouth.” You closed one eye, staring at him with the other as you drank from your glass. Take that Alastor! And please read between the lines… “ and as you know my dear Alastor, since our younger age, you always were the glutton one.” you smirked as you remembered how he would eat so much for the tiny body he used to have.
Alastor just smiled with a teasing expression. You stuck discreetly your tongue at him as the guests were laughing with Alastor, saying how a grown man like him needed to eat so he shouldn’t feel bad for eating so much. You’ve never seen Alastor naked but you knew that he was strong. He could easily throw you on his shoulder when he wanted to do something you didn’t want.
“ You know that when I like something, I can’t help but crave more until there is nothing left for others to share.”
You almost spat the water on the table, your eyes wide open. Was he still talking about food ? You felt your body suddenly getting warmer. You didn’t understand why a sentence like this could make you react like this.
“ Ooh Alastor, you have such a way with words. What else can that mouth do?” said a lady, who seemed to have drunk more alcohol than water. You blushed as she leaned toward Alastor making her chest bigger with her arms. What was she doing ? You almost hid your face, feeling so embarrassed but you wanted to see Alastor’s reaction. Did he like this kind of woman?
“ It bites.” He said with a dangerous smile. You could see your lipstick on his lips, making it seemed like it was blood. You didn’t know why you liked it. You shook your head, what were you thinking? A bloody Alastor wasn’t attractive ! The sweet juices must have been alcohol for you to think such a thing about your friend. You finished your glass, you were getting tired now, and frankly you wanted to go home. You were feeling cold even with Alastor’s blazer on your shoulder. You ignored the lady’s giggles as you stood up, Alastor following soon after you.
“ Well, I think we are ready to go back home.” you smiled at Alice and John who seemed sad that you were already leaving. You hugged Alice as you explained that your feet were killing you, you danced all night and you weren’t used to those kinds of heels. Alastor shook hands with some people and you went toward a butler who gave your coat back.
You gave back his blazer to Alastor and then you left the mansion which was still buzzing with energy and music. You looked at the sky and sighed. Come on, only 35 minutes and you would be able to throw off your shoes. You could almost feel your legs trembling because of the pain.
“ Hold onto me.”
You squealed as Alastor crouched before you and lifted you in his arms, just like a bride. He began to walk. You were impressed, he had danced even more than you and yet he could carry you without breaking a sweat. You touched his lips with your cold fingers, making him look at you.
“ You know you have lipstick on your lips?”
“ Well, yes.” You stared at him, eyes wide opened. What did he say? He knew? How? “ Dear, when you kissed me I could see that your lipstick wasn’t as clean as before. And with Alice’s reaction, it just confirmed my thoughts.” he smiled teasingly at you but his eyes were full with warmth. 
“ But… Why did you not wipe it?”
He kept walking in silence for a moment, even making you believe that he wouldn’t answer you. Sometimes Alastor would just stare at you and not answer your question and you knew that it meant that he wasn’t ready to share what he thought, so you would just give up and talk about something else. You sighed in relief as you saw your home. Finally.
“ I wanted to feel you a little longer.”
You looked at him as he put you on the stairs in front of the door. You tilted your head, he wanted to feel you a little longer..? You took his hand with yours and smiled softly at him, you knew from his expression that he didn’t want to have that conversation right now, even with his usual smile. You quietly opened the door and realized that nobody was up, you could see bottles of wine on the living room’s table but your mothers were nowhere to be seen. You took off your shoes and almost moaned in bliss. Finally…
You went upstairs and took a peek inside your mother’s bedroom and smiled. Marie and your mother were both asleep on your parent’s bed, you could feel Alastor leaning his chest against your back as he stared at his mother. You guessed he wanted to be sure she was okay.
You went into your bedroom and fell on your bed, you just wanted to sleep..
“ Nu-uh miss, you are going to wash your face and take off your clothes.” you felt Alastor’s hands on your waist as he dragged you toward the bathroom. You groaned, you were so tired… You could wash up tomorrow.. He made you sit on the bathtub’s edge and he kneeled before you. He took a tissue and began to take off your makeup, beginning with your eyes, forcing you to close them. 
“ Alastooor…” you moaned, trying to to coat him in letting you go. “ I just want to sleep…” 
“ And I want you to go to bed clean, so be quiet and let me work.” he said as he wiped your lips. You nodded while opening your eyes, the faster it was done, the faster you could go to bed. “ Good girl.” he smirked at you with a mocking glint in his eyes.
You bit his finger, the one which was still wiping your mouth. You stared at him, trying to look dangerous. You… didn’t like when he was saying “good girl” in that tone, like you were someone he could easily manipulate, someone that wasn’t special to him. He looked calmly at his finger then at your eyes. You didn't know what he was thinking and it was killing you. Yes, you could read him easier than most people but Alastor stayed a mystery for you sometimes… Like right now.
He leaned toward you, making you lean back, keeping his finger between your teeth, until your back was at the bottom of the bathtub. He climbed above you, his eyes never leaving yours.
“ I recall being the one who said that I bite…” he looked at you calmly as you stared at him with angry eyes. You smirked, keeping his finger against your teeth, you always loved  when you succeeded in  surprising him. It was such a thrill.. What could you do now.. Oh! You let his finger go and smiled sweetly at him.
“ You wanted me to be clean, right?” He titled his head before you quickly opened the water. You hid underneath his body as the water fell upon his body. You laughed as you saw his face. His eyes were wide open and his smile looked like a grimace, but he was staring at you. He quickly turned off the water and fell on you, his face near your neck. “ Ouch! Alastor, you’re heavy!” 
You felt his arms holding you against him, squeezing you so hard that you could feel your chest being crushed against his torso. He was getting your dress wet now! You tried to run away but you couldn't move from his hold and you could feel his smile on his lips against your neck. You sighed, giving up. You took a strand of wet hair, it was beginning to be curly. You smiled, you liked his curly hair, it was cute! 
“ I think it’s past midnight , so Merry Christmas.”
“ Merry Christmas, Alastor.” you closed your eyes as you hugged him as hard as he was squeezing you. You felt him gasped against your skin, tickling you. You stayed like this for a moment before you were feeling really cold. Alastor helped you get out of the bathtub, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You were clean! You went into the bathroom and looked at the dress. How were you supposed to take it off without tearing it? Last time, Alice was the one to help you take it off.
“ Alastor, can you help me with my dress?”
“ Of course dear” he approached you and dragged the zip down. You thanked him but didn’t move when you felt his gaze on your back. You turned your head toward him with a curious expression. He was looking at your back with a straining smile. “ I hope nobody will ever backstab you… Can I..?” he whispered as he held his hand toward your back. You nodded and closed your eyes when you felt his other hand covered your eyes. For years, you kept this game you had created, hiding your eyes and telling a secret.. And Alastor loved using this game against you.
 You felt the tips of his finger caress your naked back. You shivered, you wondered why? Were you cold? His touch was timid, but when you took a step back to get closer to him you felt his palm against your body. He moved his hand from your spine until he back of your hair. You tilted your head back. You didn’t really know what was happening.. The moment was a little scary, but because it was Alastor, you were feeling safe. He moved your hair from your back, sliding it on your shoulder.
“ Keep your eyes closed…” he took his hand from your eyes and then you felt both of his hands on your back, touching your hot skin. 
God…
You sighed as he slid his nails against your epidermis. It felt like he was tracing lines. Was he writing something ?
“ Alastor..” you whispered and he hummed in response. “ Can I… Can I do the same..?” you felt him flinching and you bit your lips. Were you too greedy? Did you break the moment you were having? You knew that Alastor was being vulnerable right now… You knew he had problems with others' touch. Something you had to learn even if it did hurt you when you were younger. 
“ If you keep your eyes closed.”
You gasped as his finger dipped softly into your skin.? He said yes? He said yes, he said yes, he said yes. 
He took his hand off your back, which you were already missing, and you heard him take off his clothes. You kept your eyes closed, you would never betray his trust. Never. Youknew it was another step in your friendship.. Was it a friendship… Was Alastor just a friend? …
Did you want Alastor to stay as a friend? 
“ I will be sitting down, my back toward you.”
You felt his hand take yours and bring it toward him. You didn’t want to touch his skin right now, you could feel his hand shake a little. You put your hand on his curly hair and stroke it. You wouldn’t touch him unless he was relaxed.
“ Tell me if you want me to stop. Tap me somewhere on my body.”
He didn’t answer but you could feel him squeeze your hands. You breathed and began to trail your hand near his shoulder. You caressed them softly, from the tips of your finger, just like Alastor did.
Just like he did, you would make him feel safe.
You slid the tips of your finger on his back and you felt him tensed. You stopped, waiting for him to tell you it was too much. He didn’t speak and you waited for his body to relax once more before touching once again his back. You began to put more pressure on your touch, your fingers were caressing his hot skin. Was he sweating ?
“ You are beautiful, Alastor.”
“ You say that because you keep your eyes closed when you are with me.”
“ Then, let me open them.”
“...No, not yet.”
“ Alright.” you smiled a little, you didn’t want him to feel like you were upset. Right now, he was giving you more than he could imagine. You leaned toward your hands and pecked his skin. You felt him tense immediately. “ I’m sorry–”
“ No.. No, it’s okay.. I.. I was just surprised.”
You leaned your forehead against his back, your eyes still closed. Has Alastor ever been backstabbed ? Was that why he was so protective of you? Was that why he always held distance with others? You remembered him telling you once when you were children : 
“ A betrayal always comes from your own house.”
Was he talking about his dad? You only knew that Alastor didn’t like his father but that was it. You didn’t like his father because you felt like Alastor wasn’t safe with him… 
You felt Alastor moved and you leaned back. You kept your eyes closed, as long as he didn’t tell you to open them, you would keep them close. You would accept all of Alastor when he was ready. You waited for him to talk but you could only hear your own breathing.
“ Alastor.. Where..?”
“ I’m here, you are caged between my legs right now.” 
You scoffed at the choice of his words.
“ I’m caged ?” you teased him, tilting your head against his legs. You were beginning to be very tired…
“ With me.” you felt his lips against your forehead.” Would you like that? Being caged with me?” he whispered, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear him. Was he afraid of your answer? Should you be afraid that you didn’t hesitate ?
“ Yes.”
You gasped as he tugged you against his naked torso, hugging you so hard, you were almost choking but you embraced him even harder. You desperately wanted to see his face but he wasn’t ready right now. So you would wait…
He let you go and you waited a moment before he said you could open your eyes. You turned to look at him, he was wearing a pajama that belonged to your father. He went downstairs and you put on your nightgown.
What had just happened ? You felt like your bond, who was already deep, just deepened once more. You turned your head toward the door as you saw Alastor with your cup, you could already smell the  sweet scent of hot chocolate. You smiled at him as he gave you your cup and you drank eagerly.
“ I hope you’ll get warmer with this… disgusting brevage.”
“ Alastor, you have no taste. Who drinks coffee without sugar or with some sweets?”
“ Me.”
You shook your head, laughing quietly. You didn’t want to wake up your mothers. You finished your cup and went under the cover. Alastor joined you; you looked at him. You couldn’t see any trace of fatigue.
“ You think you’ll be able to sleep a little?”
“ Mhn… Who knows.” he closed his eyes with an amused smile. You rolled your eyes at him before falling asleep not even five minutes later.
You woke up hours laters, drooling on your pillow. What time was it..? You looked around, you could hear noises downstairs and Alastor wasn’t next to you anymore. You yawned as you stretched your body just like a cat. Thinking of cats, you’ll have to visit Husker next time. 
You took your robe and went downstairs, going straight toward the living room where everyone was. You hugged your mother and Marie wishing them a Merry Christmas. You looked around, Alastor wasn’t there?
“ How was your soirée sweetie?” asked Marie with a soft smile. You told them how big the mansion was, how there were so many guests, how you sang with a band, that you and Alastor danced. It was a really good soirée. You looked at the Christmas’s tree, you didn’t even notice the presents below the tree. When did you mothers put it here, it wasn’t there when you came home last night.
“ Well, it’s time to open the presents!” said your mother with absolute glee! She went toward the tree and gave Marie’s your present. She seemed really touched. You smiled at her, Marie’s was someone important for you now, so of course you would make something for her ! 
“ You bought my Mother a gift?” you felt Alastor leaned against you with a happy grin.
“ I made it, she is the one who has to support you everyday, she is a real hero!” you kissed both of his cheeks with a teasing grin. 
“ Oh dear, did you make it ?” she smiled at you as she showed everyone your handkerchiefs. It wasn’t perfect but you did try your best. You nodded and she stood up before hugging you. You sigh in relief, okay, it went well.
Everyone gave their presents. You were surprised when Alastor gave your mother a gift, thanking her for everything she has done for his mother. Your mother almost cried but she composed herself quickly. It was a perfume! Wasn’t that scarily expensive ?
Marie gifted you a book with all of her recipes. You couldn't wait to try it! Alastor suggested that you should wait for him to be with you if you wanted to try some of them, for security’s purpose. 
You took the gift you had for Alastor. Alright, now or never. You walked toward him with, you hoped, a relaxed smile but from his observing eyes, you must have failed. You put the little package in his hand.
“ Merry Christmas Alastor.”
He stared at you but opened his present. His eyes widened as he saw a beautiful watch.  You had a hard time buying a watch that looked luxurious but wasn’t too expensive. Thank God Alice had contacts everywhere.
“ Well, dear… I’m flattered.” he said with a genuine smile, already putting the watch around his wrist. You relaxed, every gift was given, you could relax now. You sat on the sofa with a sigh. Who would have thought Christmas could be so stressful? 
“ Stand up dear, I still didn’t give you my gift?”
You tilted your head but stood up. Alastor made you turn your back to him after he put his gift in your hand. You looked at him curiously but he just made a movement with his head toward the gift. You opened it carefully and gasped.
Into a beautiful white cloth  was a beautiful necklace who looked like gold with a red stone hanging from it. You stared at him, your mouth wide open. How..?
You felt Alastor getting closer, carefully taking the necklace.
“ May I?”
You nodded as he put on the necklace around your neck. You touched the red stone with a moved smile. You would never take it off. You saw from the corner of your eyes your mothers giggling behind their hands as they watched you. You rolled your eyes, amused. Who were the adults here? You felt Alastor hands on your shoulder and he whispered in your ear.
“ Merry Christmas, my dear.”
Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz@boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi
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lordelmelloi2 · 1 day
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we need help again...
I hate hate hate hate to make this post but we could really use some help. Mostly because I am uninsured until my job opens enrollment for its health insurance in June and on the eve of us signing the apartment lease tomorrow, I have contracted strep throat from my coworkers. Hooray!
I'm gonna try and get an appointment at the community health center doctor's tomorrow because I straight up don't have the money or time to go to the CVS minuteclinic across the street. They said it was $139 for a strep appointment without insurance, I said hell no... If I wait another day I can try and get a sliding scale $40 appt at the doctors. Right now is just stressful because we need money and because they didn't give us our security deposit back I'm not going to have enough money for my bills the beginning of the month. Plus there are literally THREE prescriptions I have asides from however much a Z pack will likely cost and one of them is an ointment from a compound pharmacy that I don't have money to pay for~!!!! 😭😭😭
Asides from that I am afraid that we miscalculated how much we have for rent for May so I'm trying to see about covering those costs so we aren't paying 3 days late into the month of May for our May rent first month. I really don't want to have a bad first impression with these people. They've been very kind to us so far with renting this new place but I don't want to push the limits.
I've already asked my dad for help but he wasn't able to spare enough for us to be totally covered + he needs me to pay him back by August. During the month of April I also applied to multiple credit unions for personal loans and got rejected...
So my total expenses are:
- Medication/Doctor's visit (including pre-existing prescriptions that I haven't had the money to pick up) ($160)
- Phone bill ($75 for this first month, should be going down next month as verizon charges my account with different coding)
- costs for rent/move (like hopefully $200 idk. I think we can swing the last hundred)
In addition: Because of my history of struggling with commissions due to my psychiatric disability, I don't really want to do this but if you donate a sum above $100 you can ask me to digitally paint something for you. Please no complicated requests or anything since I've been struggling with art for years now from depression/anxiety etc. but I would feel indebted to you if I didn't do anything. If this is something you'd like please DM me/send me an ask off anon.
* As for why we have been so financially fucked this month. Our current apartment complex (yes the one with the leaks, roaches, harmful construction noises etc.) has kept our security deposit which has us out $300 that we could've used towards the new place. They have fucked us over one last time.
My paypal as always is at: paypal.me/roseod
And please share if you can. Every reblog/donation of even a small amount is appreciated. Thank you all so much for supporting me.
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bymarara · 16 hours
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Will and the Boys Don't Cry.
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Remember the picture when we were first shown Will on his birthday? In case anyone hasn't noticed, there were headphones in the picture and let's think, who else was wearing headphones and under what circumstances? Uh, Max! Max wore them so that she wouldn't fall under the full influence of Vecna and become his victim, music helped her so called survival.
Now let's get to why Will carries them around. I have two suggestions.
Everyone on the team has headphones now just in case Vecna decides to face someone.
Will is scared. Will himself realizes that he can feel Vecna's presence, in addition he will probably hear him, his voice and his thoughts, which will be very frightening to Byers. Because of the fear, he may choose his favorite song and walk around with headphones on at all times, so that if anything happens, he won't be influenced by Vekna and Vekna won't take over Will's mind. I also think that there will be a similar situation as with Lumax, that Mike will have to turn on these headphones in case of anything, I think Will will warn him alone about it all, thus trusting Mike.
Now something I've been thinking about very, very hard. Most people, and I think or thought that Will's song would be “Should I Stay or Should I Go”, but if you notice the details, you can see the poster in Will's room! “Boys don't cry”, this song references Will in a lot of ways, and if it's in season 5 in his headphones, it will be very symbolic, and will show the meaning of everything we've seen.
Let's take Max as an example. She has “Running Up That Hill” in her headphones. The lines from the song literally refer to what Max is feeling and it also shows how she feels about Billy and how she regrets what happened at the end of season 3 and how she would take it all back. The chorus from her song, literally speaks to Max's morale and what she wants. -And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God, And I'd get him to swap our places, Be running up that road, Be running up that hill, Be running up that building. If I only could, oh These lines literally refer to the fact that if Max had known what would happen, she would not have stood still, but would have tried to help her half-brother. She would have been ready even for the same death as her brother, as long as he did not die. Also, there are very interesting lines like.
“You don't want to hurt me,but see how deep the bullet lies.” which refers to their relationship while Billy was alive. The guy hurt his sister, which she hasn't forgotten, and that deep down inside of her, she wished him dead inside of her, which she now regrets.
What about Will? I know most people have already figured this out, but for those who haven't and don't know the context - this song is about the inner thoughts that guys have when they're going through an unpleasant/transitional moment in their lives. It's also popular in the LGBT+ community. Let's go through the parts that I find most interesting and start from the beginning. -I would say I'm sorry, If I thought that it would change your mind. But I know that this time, I have said too much. Somehow it reminds me a lot of Will helping Mike with his relationship with Al, while ignoring his feelings and even confessing his feelings while hiding under his sisters name. Also, I think there's a season five reference here. I mean, Will could talk about the painting and the speech, but not say what he meant about his feelings! And the lines “I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind.” show that Mike could have left with some anger and it left a mark on Will and that he can't even apologize now, and that apologizing won't change anything. (Yes, I know I sound creepy, please.) Now let's get to the chorus. -I tried to laugh about it,
Cover it all up with lies. I tried to laugh about it, Hiding the tears in my eyes. Cause boys don't cry. Boys don't cry. Sounds like Will's confession to Mike to me. He's not showing his real feelings, he's hiding everything under the “Al” mask. and underneath the mask, he keeps his feelings hidden, not showing them. He himself, quietly crying, quietly suffering, realizing for himself that his feelings will never be reciprocated, that he will have to live with it and come to terms with it, and he buries it all by himself and tries to cope with it all by himself. -I would tell you, That I loved you, If I thought that you would stay. But I know that it's no use, That you've already, Gone away… Again he says that he has buried all his hopes and feelings, he sees Mike pulling away from him and as if he is walking away from him, so talking about feelings, about declarations of love is useless in his opinion. Literally the whole song shows Will, shows a guy who in his opinion has already missed his chance, he realizes that he can't change anything and hides himself and his feelings only deeper into himself.
I hope that Will will have this song in season 5, but I will also say that there is a possibility that in case of anything, Mike can play this song, so much in this song refers to Mike.
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vourequat · 2 days
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GENSHIN MEN courting you.
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WARNING: This is a Filipino AU set in the Spanish Colonization period, so basically all of these are inspired by Filipino courting rituals.
Contains Diluc, Kaeya, Neuvilette, and Wriothesley (some of these men are hand picked because of the languages on the banner on top tehee.), fem!reader, age gap.
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Diluc Ragnvindr (Manileño)
Being the son of a businessman, he was the highest regarded bachelor in all of Manila being that he was also rather good looking.
This man is not a big fan of romanticism and would often avoid it like the plague but his guilty pleasure was to read books in the romantic genre hidden away in the depths of his library, his trips to the book store was more often than usual and many thought that he's gone book crazy but that was not the case however.
You.
You were the reason that he's now the book shop's loyal patron, you were just a simple woman from another business oriented family. You were the typical Maria Clara to the spectators eyes, quiet and modest though that was not Diluc saw.
You were ambitious and rather messy at times but that's what he loved about you, your comfortability with someone like him made him feel that he actually was able to make friends of his own that his father had not told him to befriend for the sake of business.
That's when he started to grow feelings for you.
He was still stoic and expressionless at times but whenever he sees you, his ears visibly go red under his luscious red locks.
With the encouragement of his mother and the head maid of his estate, he mustered up the bravery in his entire blood line to go to your home with the intent of asking for your father's blessing to court you.
He was shocked to see that there were other men who were after you; from a Mestizo to a Sangley, they were all there waiting for your sweet yes.
But he had an advantage that didn't have; they didn't know you the way he did.
It started from flowers to love letters, he did everything that he learnt from the romance books he had read and basically copied every single gentleman in the books that women loved.
His very next move was to bring you by the lake that he had remembered that you used to go to as a little girl, it was a bit muddy though, ruining yours and his shoes but it didn't matter as he saw that you were obviously over the moon to see a childhood place again still intact.
He saw something that your other suitors weren't able to see nor willing to, they painted you as this innocent flower that needed corruption from them but to him— you were the most adventurous and the bravest girl he's ever seen.
"Yes." You laughed.
He raised a brow, "Yes what, binibini?" he asked.
"I want to be yours..."
Those very words made his heart race as if he just ran from his house to the nearest farm in the concrete city of Manila, he couldn't believe that his awkward attempts to act out the romanticism of men in books that women seem to love had worked.
"You're pulling on my leg..." He breathed out only to be wronged by her shaking her head.
And just like that, he ran to you and lifted you into the air. The adrenaline causing the two of you to fall into the mud, it was sticky and wet but it didn't matter to him even if his ivory white blouse that his maids spent hours on to perfect was ruined because his heart was now owned by the most perfect woman he could ever think of.
"So... what should we call each other?" He asked.
Kaeya Alberich (Español)
Ever since he has set foot in the Philippines with his father who governed the Philippines in the reign of the Spaniards he has never felt the sense of nervousness, back in Madrid, he had an image to uphold as a government official's son but now he can just let loose.
His move to the Philippines was the very start of his rebellion, he now probably felt like a normal boy like he dreamt of back in Spain but his father wasn't having it.
So to set him straight, he put Kaeya in the supervision of a prayle.
The first mass where he served as the priest's assistant he managed to oversee the entire service from the elevated stage where statues of saints and Jesus were all shown in the altar made of wood and gold. One of them was you, a really pretty Filipina who was praying religiously and singing alongside the child choir.
After the mass, he was about to gather his friend of rebellious teens until he was stopped and called upon the priest he's under.
He mustered up his most innocent boy smile until he saw you approaching, turns out that you were the goddaughter of the priest and he wanted Kaeya and her to be friends since she was the best candidate of friends that could place a good influence on him.
He was beyond bored, accompanying you and other nuns and worshippers as you all prayed to the virgin Mary. There he realized that convincing you to join him to the dark side was a hard task to do, you weren't that innocent but you were the most pure and truest girl he's ever met.
Sometimes you were sassy and very witty but he felt as if you really cared for him despite just being friends with Kaeya so that his father won't worry about him while he's away, with you he learned a lot of things, mainly that he didn't need to rebel to be free.
Most of the things he did was disobeying his father but it didn't do him any good at all, with his friends he learned to become a womanizer and to drink at a very young age. But it was weird to admit that you managed to fix him.
From table manners to memorising the entire prayers in the book in Latin, he learned it all from you. You were the only friend that his father approved of however, despite being a girl and potentially seeing his son in a romantic way not that he minded having you as a daughter in law.
Kaeya soon blossomed feelings for you, it started from helping around the church like you did and almost took your job from you.
He was still cheeky as ever, his teenager instincts causing him to want to create discord but you manage to dim it down with a simple glance.
Everyone loved your pairing, almost every single one encouraged you and Kaeya to start dating already and with the blessing of his father and your father, he began to do the cheesiest things.
You were confused if whether he was doing this to sway you or just flat out piss you off.
One night, you were sleeping peacefully until you heard something from the open window of your room. Groggily heading your way there you saw Kaeya and his goons of friends who some you recognized to be the sons of the farmers in your father's hacienda.
"This is for you, cariño..." Kaeya and his poor ability to sway women with his voice began to sing you a popular Spanish love song, he was hurting your ears but it amused you.
You stayed by the window sill and watched as he sang while his friends played a guitar or a drum made out of a bucket, they were all in tune with the original song but Kaeya seemed to have his own version.
"Oh my dearest... will you give this lonesome and poor little Spanish boy your sweetest yes?" He said so dramatically, maybe you should've banned him from reading Jane Austen or Shakespeare.
You laughed at his advances before giving him the shockest shock of his life, "Sure... why not?"
He looked like was about to faint when he heard those words come out of you, his friends celebrating behind him like a bunch of buffoons while he was still awestrucked.
"R-Really...?" He had to make sure.
"Yes, now come in and meet my mother before I change my mind." You've never seen this usually spoiled man who had everything handed to him with a snap of his fingers run so fast into your house and to your living room where he met your mother and your father, ready to welcome him as their son in law.
His father would actually faint if he found out about this though. Who would've thought that his son would be able to grab a girl like you?
Neuvilette (Mestizo)
Like Diluc, he was not one to meddle in with romance since he was very busy as a foreign law maker and businessman.
He only found himself in the ports of Manila due to a business pact with a bunch of Sangley's that offered a good proposal, he never thought of soulmates because to him it was just another myth for the hopeless romantics but it was quite ironic as he was in the territory of the romantics of the south eastern islands.
Soulmates were just plain bullshit until he saw you.
A young merchant who was heavily business minded, though it was the 1800s so no one took you that seriously and that's where your brother came in. He was the perfect bridge for Neuvilette to get to know you better, to get to know what fuels that fire that made you glowing like the blazing sun of the tropics.
Neuvilette manages to strike a deal with your brother however when he asks of you, his eyes widened— you were only twenty two while he was already in his late thirties.
A blossoming flower and a mature tree stump was not exactly the most ideal to some but just like nature, it works in different ways.
In one of his tours to the factory of your brother when he saw you show your amazing leadership and logical thinking skills, he admired every single bit of what you've presented to an oldie like him and you were really pretty on top of that.
You would look perfect together, two business driven minds and great skills in making connections— but you were too sweet for him.
You were still too young for his taste so he just waited for you to grow older, not that he expected some sort of miracle from the heavens that was until one day you yourself aroused the idea of secret feelings. You may have had caught up on how he longingly stares at you and how much he admired you so you wanted to know if he wanted an amazing advice for you.
The businessman was blushing hard, it didn't help that he was pale either.
Then he just pulled out a bouquet of flowers towards you, you accepted them of course due to how pretty they were but why did he give it to you?
"Can I... Can I court you, my lady?" Those very words started the long road to your sweet approval to finally call himself yours, he began to stop by the factory more and more to help around to make use of the time he had before he had to go back to France.
And when that dreaded day came, he didn't seem to forget you one bit. Every month your house was bombarded by boxes of love letters and other items that Neuvilette scoured the entirety of his motherland remembering that you liked them.
It took about three years before he finally got the time to go back to the Philippines to see how the joint business he had with your brother was going but mostly it was to see you of course, waiting by the dock was the familiar woman whose address he kept in his head like words engraved in stone.
Too much to his dismay he began to grow white hairs while you were just starting to greet wrinkles to your beautiful face. It made him insecure and made him think twice if he should greet you until you attacked him with a big hug when he was not looking, he took it as an opportunity to raise you up in the air to view that beauty he longed years for before hugging you back even tighter.
To the spectators, it was rather weird to see an unmarried duo be this intimate but it did not matter. Neuvilette didn't suffer two grueling years of courting her without even getting to see her in person just to be ashamed of showing his love for her.
"Sinasagot na kita..." trans: "I'm going to answer your question."
And just like the first time he showed his love for you, he grew pink and became more bashful by the minute.
He tucked your stray hair behind your ear before he leaned down to admire your beautiful eyes that he'd be lucky to see every single morning when he wakes up and night when he goes to sleep, he wanted you to be his and wanted his entire being to be in your hands, that was how much he loved you.
"And I'm not too young anymore..." Your witty comment making both of you chuckle before his laugh died down as he continued to look into your eyes.
"And I won't get tired of loving you everyday of the rest of my mortal life." He was about to continue his very sappy and sweet dialogue when your brother butted in with an all too familiar smile on his face, "So can I have my business partner now?"
Right, as much as you wanted to greet your suitor and now nobyo, your brother also was here to greet his business partner. Maybe you two will talk this out later on when you two have the time but for now, you were here for business.
Wriothesley (Probinsyano)
Being the eldest of his family, Wriothesley was sent to work at the Hacienda of a rich businessman near the city.
He didn't mind the work at all as he himself wanted to do something to help around the house in many ways possible, being family oriented and too busy raising his younger siblings, love wasn't exactly his first priority in mind until he saw you.
Your father was touring him and other new workers around the farm when he saw you passing by and conversing with your friends, so this was what all the craze was about city girls.
Every time you visited the farm while he tended to the horse stable he made sure to use that as a chance to converse with you, as you were in one of the shaded benches and reading he suddenly decided to approach you.
"Hi, ma'am... that's umm... a cool looking book" he started but he was a bit nervous, you seemed to be a smart collegiala while he can't even admit his illiteracy.
You couldn't fault him that he couldn't even read or write, after all, he came from a different life than you so you offered to teach him the basics and have him full access to your library.
He was a rather fast learner and you liked that as an impatient woman, that tutoring however slowly turned to a flirting session. You had to admit that Wriothesley was a sweet guy but he just wasn't your type though he was keen on changing that.
From a bag of apples he gathered from the apple orchard to a wheel of cheese that he and his fellow workers managed to create from the left over cow milk they harvested, he did everything he can and did what he knew to sway a woman just to change your mind.
You loved his attitude and insistent nature, you were starting to like him but you just wanted to play with him and pretended to not be so impressed until you surprised him with a surprise visit to your father.
The man was shaking like crazy when he met his boss in a more relaxed setting, it was just him and your father all alone.
"So you like my daughter?" Your father started.
"I- uh...—" Before he could even answer, your father cut him off.
"And I want you to be my son in law."
Wriothesley had to check twice if he heard his boss right, he had been working under him for about a couple years now and your father saw his hardwork around the farm and trying to woo you to accept his offer of love.
"But... you need to make that cheese you made again last time, it was delicious..." Now, with your father's blessing, he gathered his friends to create the same wheel of cheese for your father to further prove that he was serious with you but he did most of the hardwork as he was motivated by you.
While he was busy molding the cheese into shape, you decided to pay a visit and stopped by his friends who were watching him from afar after helping him gather excess milk from the cows.
"That man's head over heels for you, ma'am" one of them said.
You laughed, "I know... the feelings are mutual."
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"Creativity comes from those who have a lot of responsibilities but refuses to do them" — Veritas Ratio, the philosopher, probably.
A/N: I am not swaying my feet while writing this, never. And I'm running out of ideas so I may make more Filipino AUs of characters I like to make fanfics of and will probably make text AUs because I'm getting obsessed with the ones on Tiktok.
Trans: Good morning, my love. Go and eat breakfast mwah!!!
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popponn · 9 hours
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Your phone sits in your hand. Through his half-opened eyes, Yoichi could see your fingers moving occasionally. He wonders if you are playing something or reading.
His hand reaches for the blanket on your side, still covering your legs even though you are sitting already. Have you already taken a step off the bed today? If you haven’t, Yoichi maybe should remind you to. Whatever it is in your phone could wait after a drink or a proper toilet trip, no matter how demanding it is. Unfortunately, his mouth is still sticky with sleep. Unable to open it, Yoichi trusts the tug of his hand to call out for your attention.
He pulls at the blanket lightly. In a motion that seems to be out of your own awareness, you spare a hand to pet his hair gently. It is as if you are ushering him back to sleep—Yoichi notes. You could have succeeded. Yoichi doesn’t remember what day or hour it is, but with nothing rushing him from the back of his mind, he lets himself take in your touches a bit longer.
Your clothes and hair are rumpled. You probably haven’t been awake for long, considering the way lethargy still paints your face. Rationally, objectively, you don’t look really good (yet, something that sounds like an annoying boyfriend in his head insists).
But, really—with the way the soft morning light hits your face, Yoichi finds himself feeling like a violent mush that might or might not want to cry out of many, many feelings.
Perhaps, this is what it feels to be a man in love—Yoichi tries to reason. It only makes him want to bury himself on your side of the bed, warped in blankets with you until the two of you find the will to get out of the bed.
“Ah,” Yoichi whispers—hoarsely, urgently, most ardently, “I really do love you.”
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glxyaaandromeda · 2 days
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Missing your presence
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Pairing/s: Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel x GN! Reader [Separated Established Relationship]
Warning/s: Angst / hurt / comfort
Summary: What would be their reaction when you left without a word… then came back again.
A/N: I stopped playing LnDs for a month and when I came back a few days ago, I received these messages from them and thought I should write something angst with a bit of comfort headcanon about it. The devs do be really know how to pull our heartstrings huh?
Masterlists | commission sheet + socials
Xavier
He missed you, like a lot.
Despite not getting responses from you, he continues to message you now and then. “Why are you so quiet?” “Did you go to the no-hunt zone alone again?” “Are you hiding from me or is something bothering you?”
Even when he sleeps, he sees you in his dreams, hoping someday you would come back again.
When there’s no Wanderer around, he goes to the places you and him enjoy each other's company.
Then you return – you saw him in the cafe that you and he visited often, he was sitting near the window and the drink that he ordered remained untouched then he saw you walking on where he sat.
He’s not dreaming, is he? He’s not dreaming. “So it’s not a dream? Can I pinch you, (Y/N)?” You gave him a small nod as you sit beside him and he did pinch you – not enough to hurt you of course but just to see if you are actually real, with him. Then without any word, he embraced you. “I missed you a lot when you were gone.”
Zayne
Busy as usual.
Though his co-workers noticed that he’s been checking his phone from time to time so often, “Respond when you have time.” “I saw a hunter wearing their uniform at the airport and… I thought it was you.” are some of the messages that he sent to you, waiting for you to reply, but nothing came. 
It’s a weird feeling from him honestly, he missed your presence, your messages – like any updates from you on what had happened on your day. He still hopes that you’re doing okay at least even if you missed your monthly check-ups from him.
He tries not to be angry at you, a bit disappointed but… maybe it’s a personal matter that’s why there’s no word when you left.
Then you return – It surely is a coincidence to see him on the restaurant that you and him had lunch together, you saw him making a snow replica of the cat that you’ve seen a lot here at the restaurant.
With the food that you ordered on hand, you walked over to where he sat. “Is this seat taken?” There was a minute of silence between you two, Zayne registering if it’s really you in front of him and yes it is you. “Is this your way of punishing me?” “No- I, absolutely not..” Then you explained to him what had happened for the past few months, he then gave you a head pat. “Hm, if that’s the case then, can we stop this punishment now?” 
Rafayel
He was frustrated for a week or so.
Why did you leave without a word? You are his bodyguard after all, shouldn’t you ask for a sick leave or something before you leave? But you didn’t.
He’s sure to himself that you are capable of taking care of yourself, so why is he worrying too much about you? He still continues to message you even though he knows damn well you won’t respond to him.. “... are you asleep?” “Come find me when you wake up.” 
He tried his best to enjoy the things he does every day even if your presence is not there, it’s not really a big deal really. (p.s: it’s a big deal to him to be honest.)
Then you return – His studio was a mess, Thomas already tried his best to cheer him up to tidy his studio but it was always different when you’re there and… there you are facing his back as he continues to paint a new art piece, you assume. 
“So you finally decided to show up, huh?” There is the sassy Rafayel you knew, now facing you. “By the way, I went to art exhibitions, sketching and painting alone, no big deal really.” He didn't even realize how much he misses you, with a sigh and giving him an apologetic smile you couldn’t help but laugh lightly on his antics – whenever he crossed his arms and pouts, you couldn’t help but offer him a hug. “... are you mad?” “Hmph. I can’t get mad at you and.. Welcome back my bodyguard.”
the messages I was referring to, like 😭😭😭
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aurumacadicus · 1 day
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159 or 139 for the ficlet please!
(Also, do these numbers correspond or a prompt or are we just winging it here, curious minds would like to know how this lottery is working 🧐)
These numbers correspond to a prompt set which I can post a link to after this is done but I wanted the randomness of it. No offense but you guys always go for the same prompts (which don't get me wrong, make sense for the characters/my writing) but I wanted to stretch some writing muscles!!!! So I anonymized the list :3c
--
Steve groaned when he realized he couldn't ignore the constant pinging of his phone anymore. It had well and truly rung through his half-dozing state. He pushed himself up, popping each vertebrae as he attempted to blink the sleep out of his eyes, then yawned, loud, and scrubbed at his eyes.
He took a glance around his room, then squinted in confusion when he saw his lamp had been knocked off the bedside table, there was a... sock? On the ceiling fan? And the ceiling fan was askew, the edges of the blades scraping the paint off on one side and nearly low enough to clip his hair on the other. He stared at it, mouth hanging open in confusion, especially as it finally registered that it was not a sock hanging from the fan, but a ripped pair of tights.
Steve grabbed his phone, still staring at the tights, as he wondered how, exactly, they'd been ripped right down the middle of the crotch and where, exactly, the other half was. He found it as he rolled onto his back to check his phone, one end tied to the foot board of his bed, the other tied around his ankle. He blinked slowly, then thumbed his phone open, peering at the notifications.
[Bucky] If you don't respond, I'm calling the cops
Steve blinked again, then sent a simple 'responding' and scrolled up to see what was going on. He came to the conclusion that he'd disappeared halfway through a party. Bucky and Natasha's engagement party, maybe? They were celebrating something, he remembered. The first messages has been teasing, calling him a curmudgeonly old man, then jokes about him getting lucky, then concern as he'd never replied to any of them. He flipped back to Bucky's messages.
[Me] Yo what happened My lamp's broken? And my ceiling fan? I'm tied to the bed kinda.
He looked around again just for good measure, then did a double-take at his sheets. He snapped a picture and sent it along as well.
[Me] Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.
Bucky's response came only a few seconds later.
[Bucky] Oh my god the stripper??????????????! I wondered what happened to him!!!!!!
"The stripper?" Steve asked, squinting at the screen in confusion.
The door to his bathroom opened, and a man stepped out, naked as the day he was born. He was beautifully damp. He had a towel wrapped around his hair. Steve understood, suddenly, why half a pair of tights were on the ceiling fan. He immediately wanted to fuck this man so athletically that the other half snapped off his leg and flew onto the ceiling fan too.
"I ordered breakfast," the man said casually, pulling a duffel bag from... somewhere. "It should be here in about fifteen minutes. I'm Tony, by the way," he added, picking a pair of briefs out of the bag.
"You don't have to put those on, Tony," Steve offered, instead of doing the polite thing of offering his name back, or asking if he wanted anything else.
Tony let out a bark of laughter. "Just as charming as last night," he teased, shaking his head.
God, Steve hoped he'd been charming last night. "So... were we introduced last night?" he asked carefully. "And you thought I forgot your name?"
"I was introduced as Bambi last night," Tony said, offering him a smirk. "And you waxed poetic about my big brown eyes until I basically had no choice but to fall into bed with you."
"Bambi," Steve repeated, and then, louder, "Ooooh, Bambi." Suddenly he remembered exactly what had happened last night, up to and including how his room had gotten messed up, and it had started with Tony finally asking, 'Does that make you Faline? Or are you more of a Ronno?' and Steve just picking him up and carrying him toward the door as Tony giggled in his arms.
Well. Food was coming. He'd have time to convince Tony he was more than just a fan of brown eyes. Tony had a cheeky smile. He found those always seemed to get him into trouble in the best way.
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ominosus · 1 day
Text
bruises and quiet aches — ominis gaunt x fem!reader x sebastian sallow Part III
Part I here ❤︎ Part II here ❤︎
Here is part three! I'm happy so many of you enjoyed part two ❤︎ Things are, ehm... heating up to say the least in this one B) hehehe... Let me know if you'd like a fourth part ❤︎
plot summary: older ominis gaunt x fem!reader x Sebastian sallow
warnings: recommended 18+, smutty (but nothing too explicit), a little angsty, slow burn, kissing, mention of blood
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The world had fallen mute, at least for a second. You narrowed your eyes at the embellished ceiling and its murals that moved gracefully above you — slowly dragging you upwards. The painted, luscious trees swayed in the wind, revealing something glistening behind its green curtains, and around the branches, stems, and into the ground and up again, swirled a large, lean, white serpent. You tried to find the face of the snake but were unsuccessful. Yet, you could sense that it was watching you from behind the anonymity of the leaves.
Your swollen, blurry gaze tried to adjust to the evening sun peering into Ominis’ bedroom. It was as spacious as his office and each room seemed to be able to fit another manor in it — grand to a tee. At first you said no to his suggestion to rest that sounded more like a command, to take a nap — but then, trying to take a few steps off of his desktop, you felt your legs cave beneath you. So, now you found yourself lying on your back in his crisp, amber, cotton sheets. Regardless of the numerous empty guest rooms, he insisted on you sleeping in his. His point being: you were not a guest. Which made Sebastian snort and roll his eyes and left you with the ever returning question of: where does that leave me? The burning sensation left on your lips from Sebastian having crashed his own upon them pointed you towards one answer, but having him flee to the other side of the building as the incident eventually dawned on him, as your presence dawned on him, only pointed you towards a sea of even more questions. Your visit was tumultuous, indeed — for all of you. You were all experiencing growing pains safely tucked away for several years, because as you returned to your past, you realised you never truly left it in the first place – and everywhere you looked, you could find yourself.
Knock, knock, knock…
Quickly awakening from the tangle of your thoughts you looked towards the other end of the room, and before you knew it, Ominis appeared from behind the doors. His dark eyebrows curved perfectly above his fog-laced eyes. He was now wearing a midnight-blue, thin knit that praised his frost-kissed skin – as his white shirt had gotten blood on it. He sauntered closer towards you in his bed, dragging his lean fingers through his pale-blond hair, only to have it fall in front of his eyes immediately. You dragged yourself upwards a little, resting against the black, wooden bedframe. ”Have you been able to sleep a little?” he asked as he got closer. Shifting on the bed you realised how timid you felt all of a sudden — trying to brush your hair in place with your fingers, even though he couldn’t see you.”Ye-” you started only to hear your own voice falter. Ominis’ pale eyes gazed towards you as he placed himself beside the bed. Feeling your cheeks burn hot, you cleared your throat. ”I did, yes — I managed to sleep for a little while… at least.” you spoke quietly. ”That’s good…” he hummed as his fingertips graced the sheets of his bed. ”-but you should rest for at least a couple of days…” he added, feeling his way forward until his fingers reached the bump of the fabric above your legs and feet, making them tingle. He sat down at the end of his bed next to your legs as his gaze rested somewhere on the rug, his hair falling softly in front of his eyes. ”-to let your body recoup.” he finished before sighing. ”How…” Ominis started, but fell silent. He seemed a little hesitant to you suddenly being there, at arms reach, after having been gone for so long. You could see the conflict within him play out in front of you — his eyebrows bowing, his jaw clenched. ”How does it look?” he finally spoke, softly yet a little strained, pointing towards you — aiming at your waist. You looked down as you carefully pulled up the oversized shirt you had borrowed from him. You sighed heavily as you let the red marks stretching across your skin sink in. ”I’ll be ok…” you muttered quietly. ”-thanks to you.” you finished, looking up at him just in time to see him nod. ”May I?” he asked, pointing yet again towards your waist — his misty eyes gazing out somewhere into the room. ”Eh-m-yeah…” you gulped. ”-of course.” you finished before sitting up a little straighter.
Ominis moved closer up towards you, feeling his way above the cotton duvet. You felt the weight of his hand above your shin, knee and thigh… Without thinking about it you held your breath. His hand moved gently across the border of the duvet and you, until his fingers landed on the warm skin of your stomach, making it flinch a little. Ominis looked calm as he slowly dragged his fingers above your skin until he felt the edges of the scar, on which he slowed down. All words were lost on you and it felt as if you’d seized to exist only to turn into the very tips of Ominis’ fingers. You felt him move above the scar tissue, slowly, gently, before he placed his entire hand above it — it was cold against your warm skin as it pressed down slightly. ”How does this feel?” he asked quietly. You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, flushed red, lips swollen, and unable to speak a single coherent word. For a moment you’d forgotten about the pain and the wound — all you could feel was Ominis. ”It’s…” you mumbled, forcing yourself to say something. ”It feels much better.” you managed quietly. Ominis lifted his hand off of you, making you frown at the loss of contact while feeling even more embarrassed at your sudden neediness — as if every year of quiet longing came rushing back. ”Glad to hear it.” Ominis spoke calmly. Yet, there was something lingering in his voice… A certain type of solemness. ”The scar will remain.” he added, still looking out into the room, but now, looking up at him, you saw that his cheeks were red too. Your lungs moved heavily within your chest. ”Resting should do you well.” he spoke. He was frustratingly stoic, formal, reserved. You sensed his leaving and searched rather desperately within your head for leverage until you finally opened your mouth.
”Do you know you have a snake slithering about your ceiling?” you asked. Ominis sighed before he relaxed his body on the bed again. He sat silent for a little while, tilting his head to the side. ”I’ve heard there is supposed to be one there, yes…” he spoke quietly. ”-but I’ve never heard of anyone actually seeing it.” he finished before he frowned a little. Your breathing slowed down as you looked at him. Your eyes’ swollenness seemed to spread to your lips, making them ache. ”How did it look?” Ominis asked gently. ”Huh?” you mumbled, looking at his rosy lips that glistened a little against his teeth. ”How did it look?” he repeated, shifting his foggy gaze towards you. ”Oh-” you mumbled again. You looked up towards the ceiling only to realise that the serpent was gone — there was only a forest of trees swaying above you. You couldn’t see it anywhere, not a single white scale in sight. ”It’s…” you quietly spoke. ”What?” Ominis asked. ”I could have sworn it was there a second ago and…” you continued. ”-and now it’s gone.” you finished, still looking up at the mural. Without you seeing it, Ominis tugged at his lips. ”Perhaps it’s shy…” he mused quietly. ”-or incredibly selective of its audience.” he added. You looked at him and his pale gaze. ”I should feel honored then.” you spoke, tugging at the corner of your lips. ”Oh, the honor is entirely the serpent’s.” Ominis quickly  countered, making your cheeks burn much redder than before. If you squinted you could see a familiar smile on his lips as you both sighed in unison — for a moment it felt as if nothing had changed. It all pulled you back to your days together, before you left – and if you listened closely, you could hear his subdued panting against your ear in the undercroft and feel his breath against your ear. The boy you once knew had grown up now, you both had – and all you could think about was how it all would feel today, how he'd sound, how his hands would feel against you. ”Hm.” you hummed in response. You tried to look into his pale-blue eyes, but found it incredibly difficult as it felt he could see right through you. 
”How’s…” you started, yet falling short. ”How’s… Sebastian doing?” you asked. ”Ah, yes, Sebastian…” Ominis spoke quietly before sighing. ”He’s feeling a little… torn, to say the least.” he added. ”He’s never been one known for restraining his emotions…” he continued, breathing out a short sigh. ”I don’t think he feels he can control himself… around you.” he finished, shifting his gaze towards you again. You nodded, mostly to yourself — feeling responsible for opening up old wounds by returning with yours. ”And..” you started, yet falling short again. ”And how are you feeling?” you finally asked, looking up towards him. ”Well…” he started, swaying a little on his voice. ”I can’t say I blame Sebastian — not this time.” he added. ”I know how he feels.” he finished. A black little pit took shape within your stomach, twisting itself, and it felt as if it would pull you into it altogether. You wanted to grab ahold of the blue cotton on Ominis’ wrist and drag it closer but it felt as if you were glued against the bedframe. Ominis sighed heavily before he looked out into his bedroom as you looked at him.
”I missed you.” he spoke, ever so softly, slicing your chest right open. You wanted to shield yourself from all the emotions that came falling down on you but you couldn’t. ”I’ve missed you terribly, y/n.” he repeated. Your heart rung loudly within your chest. Without thinking too much about it you reached out to his hand resting on top of the duvet, placing it in yours. Ominis’ gaze was still somewhere in the room, but you could see his chest moving slowly and heavily at your touch before you felt his hand tighten, softly, around yours. The room fell silent again except for your harmonious breathing. You adjusted yourself on the bed, moving a little bit closer towards him as you enclasped his hand with both of yours — at this, Ominis’ head fell forward slightly. ”I really am sorry for hurting you — both of you.” you added, looking up at him and his august profile bowing. He closed his eyes. ”I thought I did the right thing.” you finished. Ominis sighed before he dragged his hand from out of your hold, sending a cold shiver down your spine at the loss of contact. He started to rise from the bed but you quickly grabbed ahold of his wrist, stopping him from getting too far. ”Please don’t go.” you blurted out softly, pleadingly. Ominis sighed again, turning a little towards you where he stood. ”You should rest.” he spoke. You frowned up at him. ”I’m alright.” you answered. You felt incredibly vulnerable and you desperately wanted him to be there with you — to not tread too far. ”Stay.” you gently begged. Ominis shook his head as he raised his free hand to massage his eyebrows, sighing heavily. ”Sebastian isn’t the only one having a hard time restraining himself, y/n.” he spoke, somewhat sternly, gazing down towards where you sat on his bed. ”You don’t have to restrain yourself.” you spoke. ”I don’t want you to.” you added. Ominis sighed once again. ”Is that truly what you want? Do you even have the slightest idea of what that means?” he asked, sounding both frustrated and calm at the same time, the way only Ominis could. You released the hold of his wrist, making him place his hands inside of his pockets. ”Hm?” he hummed, urging an answer. ”I’ve missed you…” he continued. ”-but I can’t…” he spoke before sighing. ”I can’t keep hoping for you to always return — to stay – only when it pleases you.” he added softly. ”Because it’s all I’d ever do.” he finished quietly. It felt as if someone tore your chest wide open, pulling your heart from out of its cage, ready for the vultures to come pick at your flesh. 
Even if you’d ran away you’d always carry them with you — a part of you would always be there, as it always had been, right next to them, in their pockets, close to their hearts, course trough their veins — and now, when you returned it felt as if you had run from the inevitable. ”But…” you spoke, ever so quietly. ”-what if I’ don’t run?” you asked. ”If I wanted to stay?” you added as your sight landed somewhere on the rug beneath Ominis’ feet. He turned towards you, pondering your words. ”Do you want to stay?” he asked. You looked up at him and his clouded eyes that peered somewhere above you. ”If… you want me to.”you answered, anxious — as if on trial, waiting for the crowd to pass on their judgement. ”I’m serious, y/n.” Ominis spoke, rather sternly, frowning at you. ”So am I.” you countered quickly as you looked up at him. Ominis sighed heavily again, shaking his head as his hands returned to massage his eyebrows.”Lords.” he muttered quietly. ”Ominis?” you spoke softly. He sighed again. ”Hm?” he hummed where he stood. You could see the conflict escalate within him with each second and just as you were about to open your mouth Ominis spoke again. ”You’re telling me you want to stay?” he asked, sounding almost a little perplexed. You looked at him and his frowning dark eyebrows. ”Ye-” you began only to be interrupted by Ominis’ hands reaching out to you, pulling you upwards where you sat on his bed, his lips crashing against yours. You whimpered at the harsh impact before you could even realise what was happening. As Ominis’ hands held onto your face, you closed your eyes, melting beneath his hands as he pressed his lips closely against yours. 
You unraveled as your lips and tongues melted into a hot flood of pure greed. Ominis sighed against your lips, groaning frustratedly, still fighting within his own head. As his hands clasped onto you, tugging at his own shirt to pull you closer, swirling his hands up and down your body, gracing up your bare legs, your waist, into your hair — it felt as if something untangled itself within you, sending a wave of bliss throughout your veins until your toes curled against the cotton beneath you. Ominis groaned more loudly against you as his hands tried to pull you even  closer. The sweet, dusky and intoxicating smell of him coursed through your head and lungs, making you feel utterly inebriated. His wet lips and tongue moved effortlessly with yours, burning you hotter with each second — dragging you closer into him.
Suddenly it felt as if someone blasted you with glacius as Ominis pulled away, quickly, stepping a few feet back. He heaved from the rush of adrenalin and endorphins, which also swirled inside of you. You looked at his flushed pale face, completely bewildered. Ominis shook his head. ”Omi-” you panted, but before you could even finish, he cut you off. ”We shouldn't.” he spoke. ”Ominis.” you spoke, laughing a little deliriously, befuddled to the rollercoaster of emotions you found yourself strapped onto. ”I’m not go-” you started before being cut off again. ”You should rest.” he repeated, leaving no wiggle-room, before he quickly turned on his feet, making his way towards the doors. You sat as frozen on the duvet, chest heaving, lips burning, legs melting into his bed, as you watched the lean back of him swiftly make his way out of the room before the door shut behind him with a bang, making you flinch.
After the door shut you just sat there, frozen in time. The afternoon sun had managed to settle, and it was getting darker with each minute. You pondered if you should have gone after him when he left, but you felt stuck to the bed. Eventually you fell backwards onto your back, sighing heavily, and as you looked up towards the ceiling you were met by piercing white eyes. The serpent was back and this time it was looking straight at you. ”Now you show…” you whispered. ”-and don’t look at me like that.” you spoke to the serpent, or perhaps yourself. The snake merely hissed quietly. You knew what it was thinking — since you were thinking the same thing: You can’t stay in this room forever. Slowly you sat up on the bed again before sliding off the edge. Your naked feet reached the soft rug beneath you. You were only wearing an oversized sweater and you had left your bag in Ominis’ office, in which you had some spare clothing with you. ”Brilliant…” you muttered while looking around the room. You could hear the snake hiss again, and looking up you saw it slither to the other side of the room as it grew smaller, swirling down the ceiling onto a painting on the wall — and to your surprise, the painting gently swung open. You felt a little hesitant, but seeing there was little to no other way forward, you made your way across the room. As you approached the painting you opened it a little further only to see a pair of white, silk pants and a matching pair of cashmere socks.  ”Huh…” you huffed out, narrowing your eyes. A little reluctantly, you reached towards them and pulled them out. You looked at them before you looked up towards the ceiling. The serpent wasn’t there anymore. ”Very convenient…” you mumbled before stepping into the soft fabric that swayed around your legs as you pulled on the toasty socks. You sighed to yourself as you looked towards the black door leading out into the unknown. 
The corridors were barely lit, only a few solitary candles fought bravely against the dark and the many heirlooms along the walls casted shadows that loomed closer as you walked past. Pulling Ominis’ shirt closer around you, you wandered the massive labyrinth — unsure which directions was right. It reminded you a lot of your old school: the grand corridors, the paintings… the aura of never really knowing if anything was as it seemed. ”Ominis?” you spoke meekly into the gloomy space around you. Your voice came out as a mere whisper. Suddenly you saw a shadow as a couple of candelabras lit up beside you. Your spleen jumped into your throat as you gasped. The shadow turned into your own spooked reflection peering back at you in the large mirror that had appeared between the candlelight that swayed gently, filling the dark space with a soft, warm shimmer. You had plenty of bold excursions in your artillery: you’ve fought trolls, goblins, inferi… you had crawled in caves filled with acromentula, fought dark wizards… but walking alone in Ominis’ manor, knowing he and Sebastian were somewhere around the corner, ate at your brain and crawled up your spine. You breathed in slowly, placing a hand on your beating chest. ”What am I doing…” you muttered quietly to yourself before sighing and to your surprise someone answered you. ”My thoughts exactly…” a low voice spoke from somewhere behind you. 
You turned on your heels, catching your breath in your throat once again. From out of the darkness, Sebastian’s tall shadow stepped into the candlelight. There was something unnerving in the way his eyes glistened beneath his dark locks. ”Well… fancy seeing you here.” he spoke with a tone of pure disingenuousness, mocking your earlier encounter. He looked drenched in spite and the way his lips crooked themselves made it feel as if he’d eat you up. You huffed at his scorned self. ”Hopeless.” you muttered beneath your breath. He sneered at you, crowing quietly. ”Oh, hush now… You shouldn’t say such things about yourself. There’s still some hope, even for the likes of you.” he spoke leisurely. You scoffed at him, shaking your head. ”You’re incorrigible… You haven’t changed a bit.” you spoke through gritted teeth. "And you have? No..." he laughed at you, raising his eyebrows mockingly. ”Then why should I?” he spoke, rhetorically. ”I’m not the one deserting the people around me.” he added as his eyes bit down on you. ”Still playing the martyr, are we...” you mumbled, not breaking eye-contact, because it was always a game with Sebastian. ”Coming from someone who’s done what you have done, Sebastian…” you spoke, still not breaking eye contact. ”-that’s rich.” you finished. ”I’m no saint…” he spoke quickly, raising his eyebrows, and before he could continue you spoke again. ”That you certainly are not.” you spat, making him grin sinisterly. ”Well, at least I'm not pretending to be..." he mused slyly. "And since you know me so very well... then what am I?” he spoke quickly, taking a small step forward. ”The devil himself perhaps – wouldn’t surprise me.” you muttered. ”Do I look like the devil?” he countered quickly, almost whispering as the grin grew toothier, larger, more crooked. You looked at his dark eyes that glistened in the soft light. "And you'd do well to remember that birds of a feather, y/n..." he almost sang, quietly. Your name dripped slowly from his tongue, sending a shiver down your neck, spine, legs.
”What do you want?” you spoke, frustrated at him — lacking the energy to play along in his ploy, but his hunger was infectious, and it had started to spread across the floor to where you stood, biting at you. He raised his eyebrows in feigned innocence. ”Me?” he spoke, clasping his hands on his chest. ”I’m trying to figure out the exact same thing as you, darling…” he spoke slyly, yet sternly. ”-and that is: what do you want?” he finished, putting an incredibly heavy emphasis on you. You huffed at him, huffing out a laugh a little hysterically. You nodded, mostly to yourself. ”Seems as if everyone is…” you muttered. ”-and I’m trying to tell you— both of you.” you spoke, looking back at him. ”But all you two do is- is pick at my brains, toy with me, and kiss me…” you spoke, waving your hands at him. ”-and then run away with your tails between your legs.” you finished, raising your pitch slightly. You could see Sebastian slyness falter a little, and for the first time, so did his gaze. ”I’m trying to- or, at least I’d like to have a proper talk… if you’d even like…” you continued, as if asking him. ”-about all of this.” you added, waving your hands again. ”I’m trying to figure it all out too, you know.” you confessed, looking at him. For a short moment you saw the softness in his eyes again, as if he remembered that you were his best friend, not his enemy. ”And I’m not the one running this time.” you finished, still looking at him. His dark eyes peered at you. There was a certain uncertainty there. ”I understand if you both need time…” you spoke, softly. ”-and if that is what you need, I’ll give you it.” you continued. ”If you want me to go altogether…” you mumbled, more quietly, looking down at your feet. ”-if it’s too difficult to have me here… then- then I’ll leave.” you continued. His eyebrows contracted a little above his eyes as they grew softer with each word you spoke. ”If you don’t want me here… I understand if I’ve lost that right… just say it-” you spoke gently, words flowing across the air between you. ”-and I’ll be out of your hair.” you finished with a weak smile.
Sebastian’s eyebrows faltered as he sighed softly, shaking his head as his smug facade crumbled at your sincerity — as it always did. He took a few steps forward, narrowing the space in between you until his feet almost touched yours. You peered up at him and his eyes burning in the lights from the candles. He looked towards your hand resting at your hip before he gently grabbed onto it, sending a warm flood through your body. He swirled his fingers between yours as his thumb drew circles on the back of your hand. ”I like you in my hair.” he spoke softly, still looking at your hand while you looked at the freckles dancing across the bridge of his nose. You watched him close his eyes, shaking his head again as a sigh left him. ”I don’t think I’d allow you to leave again, honestly.” he added. You felt a knot within you start to disintegrate. ”Then why are you behaving like a git?” you spoke sincerely, yet teasing him a little at the same time. A soft grin grew on his lips before he looked at you. ”Born trait, I’m afraid…” he managed to quietly tease back. ”-and perhaps, I’m a little unsure how to behave around you.” he added. The tension between you was tangible and it felt as if it pushed down on your chest, making it ten times as hard to breathe. Both of you just stood looking at each other as the corridor fell completely silent around you. ”Seemingly, so is Ominis… I did hear he kissed you too.” he spoke. ”Seems you've hexed us, haven't you…” he added, looking down at your hand in his. ”-you witch.” he finished, as a grin tugged at the corner of his lips while he gazed straight at you, making your heart leap. ”Only because you let me.” you managed to whisper into the narrow space between you. ”I suppose so.” Sebastian spoke quietly before he leaned down, erasing the space completely. 
His lips were warm and he must have drunk something with cinnamon and honey in it, because it lingered on his tongue. He leaned down even further as he dragged you closer with his free hand while pulling your hand in his up to his face. You swooned at his sudden softness. Gentle whimpers left your lips as his hands softly graced you above the thin fabric of Ominis’ shirt and the silk pants. You dragged Sebastian down further, wanting him closer, making him grin against your lips before he continued the kiss. It felt as if you drunk the sweetest and thickest of sherries that coursed through your veins, making you light headed. Sebastian’s hands  followed every curve of your body, slowly moving up and down, softly tightening his grip every now and then — on your ass, hip, waist, breasts and neck. With one swift move he pulled you up from the floor to his waist, making you wrap yourself around him without breaking the kiss that deepened with each minute that passed. He took a few steps forward until your lower back hit against a narrow table against the wall on which Sebastian sat you down before he pressed himself forcefully against you, pushin you tightly between him and the patterned tapestry behind you, making you bend you head backwards as much as you could, wailing ever so softly at the warm feeling of him pressing hardly against you. His lips moved across your chin, down to your neck, where he placed traces, biting lightly, gracing his nose against your ear as he continued to erase the borders between you, closer and closer. He hummed against your neck, breathing you in before he continued to move his lips down your neck, leaving wet, warm and heavy patches all over you. Your entire body felt as if it tingled with each kiss of his, releasing a new wave of butterflies with every touch. He pulled up the oversized sweatshirt and slowed down, backing away a little. His hand softly touched your fresh scar, making you flinch a little at the feeling. ”Are you ok?” he asked, panting a little. You nodded. ”Yea’.” you mumbled. ”I’m fine — I promise.” you added. Sebastian’s eyebrows curved a little, looking up at you. ”Are you sure?” he spoke, his voice much coarser than before. You nodded again before sighing. ”As long as you don’t pierce right through me — I’ll be fine.” you spoke. You saw a sly smile grow on his lips. ”Well…” he started, a boyish grin spreading on his face. ”Lords…” you blurted before hitting his arm playfully. ”Really mature, Sallow.” you added, shaking your head. Sebastian chuckled softly before a gentle smile replaced his grin. ”Well, you know me.” he added, his eyes glinting through his dark lashes.
The fervor in which you had clung onto him, the way your lips hungered for his even if they were on yours made it dawn on you how incredibly much you’d missed him — them. Sebastian pulled you into another thought-melting kiss, sending shivers down your spine until the tingles reached your toes, making them curl, and your fingers dig into his skin. You grabbed ahold of Sebastian’s shirt and pulled him closer against you. Soft and almost pained groans left your lips into each other’s mouth — and you both swallowed them, devouring every little piece of one another. The swelter of your humid tongues swirling addictively against each other pulled you close to pearly gates. His teeth nibble at you at every chance he got, dragging them against your scorched skin. You could feel your heart beat heavily within your chest as your legs grew weaker and weaker — shaking slightly as Sebastian kept pressing himself against you, pushing you against the wall. Having his rough hands roam your body, gently tugging at your hair, hip, breasts, ass, all of you…made you melt onto the table. You grasped onto his locks, pulling at its ends, making him groan, and the sound of him reverberated through you. You felt yourself squirm where you sat, growing tense as a strained thread and wet as a puddle at the same time. The musky and citrusy smell of him left you soaked with longing and you keened as you couldn’t get him close enough, quickly enough, making Sebastian hum against your lips. You felt him press himself against you even harder and, growing impatient, you reached down to the fabric of his pants, pressing your hand against him. Sebastian paused his kiss as his head fell forward against yours, sighing heavily, he collapsed a little against you — you laughed faintly as you felt the outlines of him, rubbing your hand slowly on top of the fabric separating you from him. You moved up and down his shaft, making Sebastian breathe to the rhythm of your movements as he pressed his hard cock against your hand. You swooned at the feeling of him — and so did he. You moved down your other hand to the hem of his trousers, fumbling a little before you found the button.
Very, incredibly, and oh-so reluctantly, Sebastian took a quick step back — his hair in a disarray — making you frown deeply. He pulled his lips into a thin smile before he chuckled at you sulking in front of him. His lips curled at your displeased and disheveled self. You reached out towards him only to have him dodge your hand by taking another step backwards. ”If you run away again — I…” you started, looking at him with your cheeks flushed red where you sat on the table, feet dangling in the air. Sebastian chuckled quietly again before he interrupted you. ”I won’t…” he spoke. ”-but, if we’re going to do this…” he continued, looking at you. ”-there’s someone else that should be here with us.” he added. ”At least this time.” he finished quietly with a crooked grin. You felt your cheeks burn even hotter and you thought you’d disintegrate entirely even at the mere thought of it. ”Oh.” you spoke at a loss of words. ”If you want… of course.” he added with a low voice as he stepped closer to you again, placing a hand on your knee, slowly and softly dragging his fingers up your inner thigh, making you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Sighing heavily, you could feel your heart beat in your head as you looked up into his eyes that glistened pitch black. You stared at him as his fingers graced upwards, slowly.”Hm?” he hummed. You managed to nod. He looked down at you with something rather sinister behind his eyes. ”Look at you…” he crowed, breathing you into him as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours. ”-so shy and quiet all of a sudden.” he spoke with a low voice before placing the faintest of kisses on your lips, pulling you back with him as he pulled away as quickly, leaving you gasping after him. He took a few steps back again, making you sigh and him grin. He hummed in front of you as he soaked in the sight of your tangled self. ”Tell you what…” he spoke. ”-you saunter back to Ominis’ bedroom…” he added, placing his hands within his pockets. ”-and we’ll be right there with you.” he finished before that crooked smile reappeared on his lips, he quickly raised his eyebrows at you before he walked into the gloomy corridor only to vanish into its shadows in the blink of an eye. 
You could hear your heart slam against your ribs as you sat still on the table, merely looking across the corridor and the stone wall facing you. It all slowly dawned on you, forcing out a breath of a chuckle from your throat. ”Merlin.” you mumbled to yourself before it actually dawned on you. ”Merlin.” you gulped, slowly dragging your feet down to the ground as you stood up. You looked towards the other side of the dark corridor. It felt as if your knees would cave beneath you, dragging you down into the manor only to become one with its floors and walls. Sebastian’s musk lingered on and around you, and the bare skin where his lips had been only seconds ago burned cold. You could feel yourself seep onto the white silk. ”Merlin.” you whispered.
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spriteofmushrooms · 2 days
Text
As Nie Huaisang poured their tea, Jiang Cheng rubbed his thumb against the carved wooden box in his lap and tried not to fret over what the other man was thinking. He knew what he looked like: the white streak at his temple announced it all. Jiang Cheng's cultivation was failing, and with the discussion conference tomorrow, it would be impossible to hide. Not even the reputation of Sandu Shengshou could shield him from being known now.
"Jiang-xiong, if you brought me a present, you have to give it to me," Nie Huaisang said behind his fan. His eyes seemed amused, at least, maybe.
"I know that," Jiang Cheng said, flustered and annoyed for being so. He placed it on the table between them.
Nie Huaisang tapped his hand with the closed fan where he hadn't yet pulled it away, and Jiang Cheng snatched it back to his lap. "It's a beautiful box, Jiang-xiong, but you can't keep it, either!"
"We're supposed to drink tea first," Jiang Cheng groused as Nie Huaisang's dainty fingers opened the lid.
"No, I distinctly recall the Gusu edict that states gifts are more important than anything," Nie Huaisang said. "If it's on their wall, you know it's orthodoxy itself. Oh, what are these?"
In his hands, the brilliant pressed ink cakes were even more beautiful. He was holding the azure bird, and his skin glowed against it. "One of the painters in Lotus Cove has... eccentric ideas. She's been experimenting with pigment and ash combinations. These are her more stable creations, but even then, they're not as permanent as standard ink. But, well." Jiang Cheng pulled a small book out of his sleeve and handed it over. "Here."
Nie Huaisang pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, darted a glance at Jiang Cheng's face, and then set the ink cake back into the box. "I don't have enough hands," he whined, but he took the book graciously. Page by page, his expression grew sharper; a slight flush brightened his cheeks. "A generous gift, Jiang-xiong."
Jiang Cheng swallowed. "She said the pink is especially fleeting, so you shouldn't hang anything with it in direct sunlight," he said gruffly. "Some of them have inclusions that make them act unpredictably in water. It's... You'll have to work with them a lot. To know how they'll perform."
"This kingfisher shimmers with true to life colors," Nie Huaisang murmured. After a moment of silence, he said, "I haven't painted in a long time."
"I know," Jiang Cheng said miserably. At the other's look, he added, "The fans from the last few years weren't your style."
Instantly, Nie Huaisang's fan was between them again. Jiang Cheng looked away, neck hot.
After a tense silence, Nie Huaisang said, "Jiang-xiong, would you tell me if something was wrong?"
"You know something is."
"Can something be done?" Nie Huaisang paused. "Gusu healers, perhaps?"
Jiang Cheng scoffed. "What Lan would help me? Hanguang-jun has never hidden his disdain for me, and Zewu-jun seems determined to live on darkness and silence forever. The Lans who would graciously ignore the feelings of one can't forgive me for being associated with Jin Guangyao and Guanyin Temple, for not noticing a-Ling's xiao-shushu was a treacherous minx who had beguiled the First Jade and would hurt his precious feelings later. As if I've ever picked up on anything like that before."
"How is Jin-zongzhu?" It was hard to read Nie Huaisang's tone, but that wasn't new.
Jiang Cheng fiddled with Zidian, tugging the chain. "He has his friends, his duties, and his shibo."
"Not his jiujiu?"
"You know how Wei Wuxian is," Jiang Cheng said.
Another pause. "I suppose I do." Nie Huaisang picked up and repositioned ink cakes for a moment before asking, "Does he know?"
"Unless the Jin spies defected, yes."
Nie Huaisang rapped his knuckles with the fan, and Jiang Cheng looked up at him. "He should have heard it from you."
"You don't get to tell me how to die," Jiang Cheng snapped.
Nie Huaisang looked bored. "Oh? Then why are you here?"
"This is why tea is supposed to be drunk first," Jiang Cheng said peevishly. "The entire pot is cold now."
Nie Huaisang draped himself over the couch and fanned himself. "You're a thorough person, Jiang-xiong. You must have an heir to announce tomorrow; likely, one of your usual retinue to these things. Not your head disciple, for as dear as that boy is, he doesn't have the head for politics, and politics and reputation have kept YunmengJiang safe. Chen Helin?" At Jiang Cheng's sharp look, he added, "I pay attention to you, too, Jiang-xiong."
"If you know everything, why ask?"
"No one can know everything," Nie Huaisang said gently. "I very often know nothing and must hope for the best. QingheNie hasn't fallen yet, which suggests even caged birds in pavilions aren't always prey." He looked at the box. "You want me to paint again. Why now?"
"After," Jiang Cheng started. He wasn't used to seeing Nie Huaisang's entire face. He wasn't used to seeing Nie Huaisang in soft, unembroidered robes. He wasn't used to seeing Nie Huaisang's hair down from its braids. "After," he repeated, "I didn't ask about your leg."
Nie Huaisang waited, but then murmured, "It healed."
Jiang Cheng swallowed. "I was selfish. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to think about Chifeng-zun's body or what seeing it in pieces would do to you, because I can't—things are better when you don't think about them. But you stopped painting when he died, Nie-xiong, and all I did back then was scold you for not knowing how to triage your sect in its grief. In your grief." Here, the traitor that used to be his body swelled, and the foreign wave of mourning filled him once again. "You should paint," Jiang Cheng said through tears.
"Oh." Nie Huaisang opened his mouth, and then he closed it, simply looking at Jiang Cheng. "Come here," he said, patting the couch.
Obediently, Jiang Cheng moved to sit next to him.
"Good, good. Put your face here, please."
Jiang Cheng hesitated, but was it wrong to seek comfort when invited? He hadn't asked for it. Nie Huaisang probably didn't know how much he needed it, so it wasn't like he pressured him into it. He fell forward and pressed his face into Nie Huaisang's neck. Engulfed by the complex herbal and spice blend preferred in Qinghe incense and Nie Huaisang's sweet, peppery chrysanthemum, he simply breathed.
"You helped me a lot back then, Jiang-xiong." Nie Huaisang was a little cooler than him, since their cultivation levels were so different, but it was refreshing on his heated cheeks. "Maybe you were stringent, but someone fussing at me to take care of my duties was comforting." His hand moved to the back of Jiang Cheng's head. "I'm sorry I didn't go to Lotus Pier and make a complete nuisance of myself when you needed one."
"I didn't expect you to."
"Why?"
"They said I killed your friend."
Nie Huaisang's hand tightened in his hair. "Weren't you my friend?"
Jiang Cheng didn't want to say that he didn't know, so he said nothing.
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rosietrace · 2 days
Text
This is a personal rant about my thoughts on Greek mythology retellings, and just the way Fantasy books and the publishing industry is at this point 🧍‍♀️
I have nothing against Greek mythology retellings, or just anything Greek mythology related in fantasy in general!
However, I have certain gripes about the way Greek mythology is portrayed in media, specifically in the way its interpreted in Fantasy.
[ More under the cut! ]
I love Percy Jackson, and I think that Uncle Rick did a wonderful job at expanding the world and making Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and Norse mythology entertaining and easily digestible for young audiences. Genuinely, he does a better job at writing children's books than R*wling could ever be capable of.
However, as much as I can love PJO as much as I do, I still find certain bits of the world building and character writing as... Very hit and miss.
To start, I don't like the way Ares was written in the series. I can understand that it would make sense for his personality to be that way, because he's the God of War and it helps with Clarisse's character development; but I find fault in it because Ares in the myths is nothing like PJO Ares. (He literally killed one of Poseidon's sons because he raped his daughter, Alcippe, and he's one of the only gods who doesn't hump anything that can breathe in air. At least Ares has the courtesy of asking for consent 💀)
The Gods being the reason behind WWII and Hitler being a child of Hades. All I must say.
The portrayal of the Aphrodite cabin
The fact that Athena can have children. Annabeth, pjo fandom at large, I love you are, but you gotta admit it must've felt weird when you first read the books and you find out Athena — the maiden Goddess of Wisdom — can have offspring. Regardless of the reasoning, I still find it weird 😭 (EDIT: I've now just remembered that it was a reference to how Athena herself was created 🤡 I'm a clown)
I get that the Hermes cabin is also the cabin for the unclaimed, but couldn't have Hestia's cabin worked too? She doesn't have offspring, sure, but it probably would've made more sense for the unclaimed to go to Hestia's cabin so that the Hermes cabin wouldn't be so crowded
This isn't really a world building issue, but I think I should bring it up: I'm not saying this against the Kane Chronicles fandom, but... Sadie and Anubis. Why. Like you can't convince me that no one WASN'T weirded out by that.
Less of a complaint and more of a question because I can't remember if the question was answered in HoO or not, but when Percy told the Gods to start claiming their unclaimed children and be more decent parents (as he should, go off king), did that request apply to the Romans at Camp Jupiter too? Because that's gotta have been confusing when the unclaimed kids at CP suddenly started getting claimed 😭😭
I could go on a whole ass tangent about PJO, but that would make this post longer than it needs to be 😭😭 and any of the points might not make much sense, since I haven't read the books in a LONG time
Off to the YA Fantasy segment... Hoo boy.
The oversaturation of Hades/Persephone retellings makes me SEETHE. Why is it always Hades and Persephone why can't it be something else 😭
I just don't like the “modern feminist” retellings of Greek myths in the YA Fantasy genre, in general. They tend to completely miss the point of the original myth, and it's the case with a lot of Hades and Persephone retellings where they try to paint Hades as the good guy taking Persephone away from her control freak mother, Demeter.
Because that wasn't what the myth was about. The myth isn't a love story, at least, not a romantic one. It was about Demeter's love for Persephone and how much she wanted her daughter back after Hades stole her away. Keep in mind, in the historical context of the myth, the daughters of women in ancient Greece never really get to see their mothers after their engagements are solidified.
If they wanted to make a “feminist” retelling of the myth, they'd have it centered around the love Demeter had for Persephone to almost doom the mortal realm to an eternal winter to get her back.
I love the myth of Hades and Persephone, truly, I do. I understand the appeal it has on people, the appeal it has one me. I can see why people adore the myth in the way they do because Hades is one of the better husbands in Greek mythology (a low bar, but my point still stands).
Personally, I blame Lore Olympus and especially the video of the myth by Overly Sarcastic Productions for the way the myth is portrayed in mass media. And I say this as a former LO fan and a fan of Overly Sarcastic Productions 😭
I'd also want to go into my many, MANY gripes about “Crown of Starlight” by Cait Corrain, but in all honesty? I don't think I can properly convey how much I DESPISE Cait and their book. So I'd highly recommend y'all to check out the videos about Cait Corrain by Reads With Rachel, WithCindy, and Xiran Jay Zhao on YouTube if you're interested in going into more detail about the controversies, especially for those who weren't made aware of it.
I feel like the publishing industry just... Isn't good anymore, after Booktok went viral. Reading has been “hot girlified”, and all Booktok seems to ask when they get recommended a book is: “Is it spicy??”
Reading is like fast fashion, now. It's all based around certain popular tropes that that's how books are promoted now. Not for the plot — or sometimes lack thereof — but for the tropes the book has.
The only thing I can thank Booktok for is that they helped me discover The Cruel Prince. And even then, it's marketed as romance on there, when it's a political fantasy with a romance subplot.
‼️ Woah! A secret bonus section! ‼️
I, personally, don't read — nor do I like — Sarah J Maas. (Especially considering the problematic aspects of her storytelling, character portrayals, and is (apparently, correct me if I'm wrong) a Zionist)
However, that isn't to say that I don't like some of the characters she makes. A lot of them have potential, actually! From what I've seen, I think Nesta, Gwyn, Azriel, Eris, Tamlin and Lucien from ACOTAR are the only characters I actually like, based on what I've heard — and seen — on anything in the SJM critical tag on this hellsite.
And while we're at it, let's discuss the elephant in the room with ACOTAR, right? Rhysand.
By all that is good and holy, I hate Rhysand so much and I think I'd hate him even more if I actually READ the books. I don't get why Booktok is so invested in him when Maas retconned Tamlin's character to make him look better as Feyre's love interest.
Also, from what I recall, didn't Rhysand sexually assault Feyre? And he didn't bother to apologize for it, and justified it with his sad tragic backstory??
I can't with y'all, istg 😭 the fact that “Feysand” is apparently a Hades and Persephone retelling too makes me even more mad about it because it isn't even a GOOD retelling. It just takes away what ACOTAR originally was— a Beauty and the Beast retelling, with Feyre and Tamlin as the leads.
Didn't Maas dedicate ACOTAR to her husband because “He would go under the mountain” for her??? BECAUSE IT CERTAINLY WASN'T RHYSAND WHO SAVED FEYRE FROM UTM, I'LL TELL YOU THAT
I think, out of all the series Maas has made thus far, Throne of Glass is the only one I ACTUALLY kind of like, based on what I've heard. Crescent City seems to be too complicated to understand, and even though I've never read it myself, I miss what ACOTAR could've been. (My hope lies with Nesta, Elucien and Gwynriel, at this point)
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hypnoneghoul · 10 hours
Text
Sundown: Chapter 3
WC: 600
Relationship: SwissAlps
Tags: Transfeminine Mountain, AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together
She shifts as she slowly wakes, too, nuzzling in closer to him. “Mhm…how’d my girl sleep?” he asks, pulling her impossibly closer.
Notes: This one is just a cute little fill :3
Read chapter 1 here or on AO3.
Read chapter 3 under the cut or on AO3.
Swiss has been in Sundown for two months now and it has been the happiest two months of his entire life. He is a changed man.
His insides twist every time he sees Mounty smile at him, he blushes every time she calls him her boyfriend. He’s never been anyone’s anything, not like that.
Swiss is completely and utterly gone.
He yawns as he slowly comes to, waking in the early morning to sun peeking through the carelessly shut curtains and muffled noises of the town starting yet another day. Swiss takes a deep breath, inhaling the fresh, flowery scent surrounding him. He buries his face in the source of that scent—the soft, dark amber locks of Mounty.
She shifts as she slowly wakes, too, nuzzling in closer to him to get that little bit more comfort before they get up and leave the warm bubble that is their bed.
“G’mornin’,” she mumbles into Swiss’ shoulder and he squeezes her waist in acknowledgement.
“Mhm…how’d my girl sleep?” he asks, pulling her impossibly closer. His morning voice is rumbly and gravelly and it never fails at making Mounty shiver. 
“Good,” she replies simply. “You’re comfortable.”
Swiss laughs and the barmaid’s heart throbs. He leans down to press a kiss to her forehead and his stubble scratches her lightly in the best way possible. A forehead kiss isn’t enough, though, and so Mounty tips her head back to demand a real one. Swiss is a weak man; he can’t not oblige.
They get lost in it a bit, as usual, not caring about the work they both have, the outside of their bed in general. They spend the next few minutes—or hours—simply staring at each other with smiles painted on their faces and kissing every five seconds like nothing beside them even exists.
Something beside them does exist, though, and it reminds them of that fact itself. Or rather himself, as Dewdrop comes pounding on their door. “Come on, Rain needs something from yours, Mounty!”
The pair giggles and kisses some more, but soon enough they do emerge from their room and walk down the stairs into the bar area. Dewdrop’s waiting there with a piece of paper—presumably some instructions from Rain—in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.
“Woah, Dew, you alright?” Swiss asks with a smirk.
“Yeah…why?” the other asks, a little confused. Mounty understands, though, and she smiles as she takes the paper from Dewdrop to go fetch what his partner needs.
“Water at nine in the morning? Not beer?” Swiss teases and Dewdrop scoffs, hitting him lightly on the shoulder.
“According to Phantom I should hydrate myself properly in the morning before work,” the man sighs. He’s obviously not happy about that. “Rain agrees and so I’m being blackmailed into it every morning.”
He cringes as he takes another sip and Swiss bursts out laughing at his face—looking like he’s just been poisoned at the very least. Just then Mounty returns and she points at Swiss, “Careful, I should be doing the same to you.”
Swiss stops laughing.
“Uh, anyway,” he clears his throat, “Dew, would you mind taking a look at Monty’s hooves when you’ve got a minute? I think she needs a trim now that we ain't wearing them down on the road.”
“Mhm, sure. I’ll be going now,” Dewdrop nods and leaves his—still half full—glass on the counter completely by accident. Mounty shakes her head and chuckles as she walks over to Swiss. He throws an arm over her shoulder and brings her close to kiss her once again.
“Ready for the day, sweetheart?” he asks.
“As long as you stay with me.”
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