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#to the point where he is still in some way seen as a mother figure
mishapen-dear · 3 months
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Cant sleep so im thinking about ayhalo
I think its like. one sided. qaypierre WOULD smooch that demon and take him on dates. qbad would not recognize anything as a romantic gesture. aypierre could throw a bouquet of chocolate roses at him and bad would just be like ! thank you :}
like they love each other, absolutely. they TRUST each other, to the point where i’d even say it gets in the way of bad seeing aypierre as anything more than a good friend. that’s his guy. The dude always in his corner. Friend resource label: team mate (coparent) (down to help kidnap people). bad doesnt do classic romantic relationships- all of his relationships are INCREDIBLY queer, but the closest he usually gets to what others read as romance is a classic chewtoy4chewtoy dynamic. He LOVES to fuck with people and he loves to get fucked with and if there’s a nice jawline or pretty muscles included?? huge bonus !!
he’s got something- not kinder, with aypierre? not calmer, either, but stable, maybe. pierre has proven, over and over again, that he’s on bad’s side. Spying on tubbo, encouraging bad’s pranks, the kidnapping- i can’t call it a reliable dynamic, not with how paranoid bad is, even when he trusts, but there is still a feeling of understanding that, wherever pierre’s limits are for when he cant support bad (or genuinely turn against him), it hasnt been reached yet
aypierre, on the other hand, i dont know enough about to be absolutely sure but there are some Vibes. ironically, i think hes feeling like his relationships are unreliable. max was going to have their baby, and then he wasnt, and then he left him, then max fucking died. plus whatever is happening with him and ayrobot, which probably leaves him feeling like he cant rely on Himself. like he had, if not a little crush on bad, at least some Interest in him, before. as well as several islanders. i remember the days of the Bed Threat.
but thats part of it, too? because those flings didnt have that emotional connection, and i always got the sense that he started looking for that with maximus, to Love and Be Loved rather than pure lust. To care about someone, genuinely, and be cared about in return. but he didnt get that with the flings, and We know that max was using him, but i dont know if he did, but maybe he had a feeling about it and maybe he also had a feelinf about maximus’ feelings towards bad and maybe- there’s something about that? A little push of not-spite-not-projection onto bad.
because bad IS that reliability, right now. he’s a fucking gremlin. a bastard. a prankster silly guy. he trusts aypierre and aypierre trusts him and they dont share everything but so often, when it comes down to it, it is them against the world. them in the corner, caught, aypierre shouting about kissing as a cover for their crimes while bad runs giggling away from him.
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tlou-reid · 4 months
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Invisible String ❆ Spencer Reid
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☃︎ SUMMARY: spencer’s new gf shows him a photo her mother sent. he happens to recognize it.
☃︎ WARNINGS: very short lol, mentions of diana and her dementia, all around cuteness
.。❅⋆⍋∞。∞⍋⋆❅。.
“And isn’t it just so pretty think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”
“Spencer!” You were practically sprinting through the BAU, with your arm extended and a phone in your hand. “Spencer!” You yelled with more urgency as you came to a clumsy stop behind his chair. He spun around to face you with furrowed eyebrows and a perplexed expression.
“Are you okay?” He asked, resting his hands on your hips for a moment, just briefly. He made sure you were steady before he let go, but he didn’t want to draw any more attention to the public display of affection currently going on behind his desk. It was hard enough to keep the higher ups off of your backs for just dating, let alone showing off your relationship.
You nodded excitedly, forcing your phone into his hands. “What is this?” He asked, looking at a thread of text messages from your mother.
“Look at the picture!” You cheered, leaning over to point at the image your mother had sent you. Spencer scrolled up a little bit, opening the photo. It was one he’d seen before, he knew that much. He couldn’t forget it if he wanted to, eidetic memory and all.
It was a photograph of a high school girl’s soccer team from around the 1950s. He recognized exactly one of them, his mother. She was dressed in a classic soccer uniform, with hair much longer than he was used to seeing her with. Spencer had seen the photo in a yearbook she had when she had first begun showing signs of dementia.
“That’s my mom’s high school soccer team,” Spencer concluded, not understanding why you were showing him this, or why your mother sent it to you.
Contrary to his confusion, you were full of glee. He looked up at you and was basically blinded by the radiant, beaming smile on your face. He was even more entranced by you when you spoke, “Noooooo,” you extended your words for emphasis, “that’s MY mom’s high school soccer team!”
You and Spencer hadn’t been together long, merely a few months. Due to the nature of your jobs and the way you were constantly on the go, he hadn’t had the chance to meet much of your family, not even your parents. The topic of them had come up, but he didn’t know much. You spoke more about how you grew up, telling anecdotal stories when appropriate.
“Really?” Spencer asked, bringing the phone closer to his face and scanning it for a woman who resembled you in any way. He could feel you excitedly nod, again, as he did so. “She said she knew your last name but couldn’t remember where from! She was cleaning out her storage closet and found her yearbook!” You were laughing as you spoke, mind blown by the crazy coincide.
“There’s like a one in a million chance this could’ve happened!” You explained, leaning down to point at your mother in the photo. He followed your finger, smiling when he saw her. You did have a bit of resemblance to her. He was so in awe of the situation that he didn’t do the numbers to figure out the real chance.
“How did we not know this?” Spencer asked, handing your phone back to you. “My grandfather was a higher up in the military, so my mom moved around a lot. She said she stayed at this school from 8th to 11th grade and it was the longest she was at one school.” You explained, still shocked by the photo.
“It’s like destiny!” You cheered. However, when you saw Spencer’s face twist up, your excited demeanor fell. “There’s no such thing,” Spencer declares, ever the man of science.
“Look up the Red Thread of Fate, boy wonder,” Penelope butts in from behind you. She’s watched the entire exchange. You smiled at having her be your back up, and because you could finally teach Spencer about something.
“That’s just folklore,” Spencer dismisses, brushing off Penelope’s suggestion. “Just admit it, Spencer!” You demanded, “there’s always been an invisible string tying us together!” You pulled him to a tight hug that only lasted for a second.
“Okay,” he agreed after contemplating for a while, “only because it’s very sweet that you think so.” With that, he turned back to his computer, trying to hide his blushing face.
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thevoidstaredback · 7 days
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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
In Danny's defense, dying scared the hell out of him. Living in a house of ghost hunters was a bad idea, so he left. It didn't matter that they were family. He was a ghost living in a house of Ghost Hunters whose life's work was the very thing that killed him in the first place. He died turning on the portal his parents had spend nearly thirty years working on with two witnesses to his demise. The natural response was to destroy the portal and leave without telling anyone.
He didn't get to that point, though. The first few months after The Accident had been constant ghost attacks, one after another. Danny had tried t understand what was happening, but between his friends on some level denying his death, the ghosts attacking on sight, and the powers he was developing not getting themselves under control, he was reaching his breaking point.
On top of all of it, the portal destabilized.
No one had been in the lab, thank god, but the ghost portal collapsed in on itself. The running theory his parents had was that the ghost boy had been the one to break it. Danny's running theory was that the constant back and forth and overloaded the system. No new actually knew what had been the thing to turn it on in the first place, so no one could actually prove anything either way. At least, that's what Danny hoped.
Danny knew, in the deep recesses of his mind, what to do to get it working again. He knew what to do to keep it open if he so chose.
It had never been his choice in the first place.
Danny had known it wasn't entirely safe for him when the house started to turn on him, but that had only been solidified when the portal had gone down, Jack and Maddie Fenton doubled down on hunting down the Ghost Boy. He was the only ghost left in Amity Park, so he was the only one the trackers would lock onto.
Six weeks before he turned fifteen, Danny left his home. He didn't tell Jazz or Tucker or Sam, and he most certainly didn't tell his parents. Quietly, he packed his things - only those of which that would be easy to carry - and left. He didn't bring his phone or laptop with him. He thought about leaving his wallet, but figured that'd be useful to him.
The last thing he did before leaving Amity Park was go to the police station and tell them he was leaving willingly. He refused to elaborate as to why. They didn't need to know that. He didn't tell them where he was going, either, just that he was leaving.
It was an accident that he ended up in Bludhaven. Four weeks of traveling had tired him out. His powers only making it worse. He was low on money and food, he'd been sleeping on benches and in alleyways, his clothes were all filthy, he hadn't showered in days- He was ready to collapse.
Bludhaven, from what he understood, had a much smaller homeless population that her mother city Gotham, but it was still a lot of people. Particularly homeless youth. Danny was just another kid in an alley when he'd finally collapsed.
It took three days of sleeping behind a dumpster before anyone noticed him. In that time, he'd only woken up once. Not having eaten in a while, he had no waste to expel, so his body had focused on keeping he rested before allowing him to wake up. That was when he'd realized the actual danger he was in.
He had no idea if human weapons could still work on him or not, and he was not trying to figure that out any time soon. So, before the group of armed guys who'd just come into the alleyway noticed him, Danny let the invisibility wash over him before he flew up and away.
On the rooftops is where he found the city's vigilante. He was dressed in a black suit with blue accents and a black domino mask. His weapon looked like a broken bo staff and was strapped to his back.
Danny was not inclined to meet this man, but he'd never seen another hero in action before! Sure, he knew they existed, but he'd never actually gone looking for any. No one in Amity had, actually. It was a peaceful place. Well, until he opened the portal on himself, but that was hardly his fault.
Sure, he wasn't going to meet him, but maybe following him around wouldn't hurt? As long as he didn't get caught, he should be fine. It was only for the night, anyway. He'd probably never see this man again after this.
At least, that was the plan until he accidentally followed the man home at three in the morning. In his defence, though, he didn't know that it was that early or that Nightwing - as he'd heard a few guys call him - was going home! Regardless, he was going to take this to the grave. He was going to leave Bludhaven come dawn and he was never going to tell anyone the he knows where Nightwing lives.
Again, that was his plan. Danny ended up falling asleep on the rooftop opposite the building Nightwing lived in. He slept through the day, only waking up when rush hour foot and road traffic got too loud to ignore. Just as he was getting ready to leave the rooftop, he spotted movement in Nightwing's apartment.
Now, he couldn't even begin to say what had made him stay, but he did. He sat back down and watched as Nightwing moved around his apartment.
It was messy, messier than he'd have expected, but he wasn't one to judge. What really caught his attention, though, was the uniform Nightwing was wearing. Now that begged the question as to why the hero - vigilante was probably the better term here - fought crime at all hours of the day. Why approach the problem both legally and less legally? Why align yourself both ways?
Danny was always a curious boy when something sparked his interest.
He was swift in his movements as he pulled out the binder of paper and scholork he'd taken with him. Opening up to the first blank page, Danny started to write.
He was a hero, whether people thought of him as such or not. He only ever wanted to help. Maybe he could help this guy. Maybe he'd feel some kind of accomplishment if he managed to help Nightwing.
Step one is to observe.
Part 2 Part 4
Tag List: @flame-343
I need to point out that I have gone off of the original prompt, if that wasn't already obvious. In the og prompt, Danny is an adult. In this one, as I continue my take on it, Danny is a child. I didn't mean for it to happen, but the words don't listen to me, I listen to them.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 6 months
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Practice On Me — Part Nine — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Roza’s arrival in Windhaven brings some home truths crashing down on Reader. She just needs a hug, someone to talk to, but it all goes very, very wrong…
Word Count: 3k.
Warnings: None.
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Chaos evades logic.
There is no rationality to be found here. No sense to be made of the ample feelings that begin to chew you up and spit you out.
All you know, as you lace your breeches up and correct yourself, is that you feel like you’ve been punched in the gut.
“Are you decent?” Roza calls, her back still to you.
You tie the last lace. Clear your throat. “All good.”
The closest person you’ve ever had to a mother figure turns on the spot. She’s absolutely beautiful — fucking glowing — her swollen belly visible through her thick coat, and her eyes alight with a quality you’ve never seen before.
Rhysand really is the mirror image of her.
“I actually cannot believe I just witnessed that.” She grouses. “And just when I thought the morning sickness had finally come to an end, too. My poor, poor eyes.”
Cassian makes a noise. “Roz, that’s a bit dramatic—”
“You be quiet.” She points a finger at him. “Your mouth has done quite enough tonight, thank you very much.”
The two of them stare at each other — Cassian wanting to be a little shit and push his luck, and Roza wanting to…
Well, to gouge her eyes out with a rusty spoon, probably.
But then Cassian cracks a grin, and he’s bounding over to the female like an excitable pup. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”
“Watch your language.” Roza scorns, but she happily accepts the hug that Cass yanks her into. “Gods, you’ve grown even more.”
You…you are rooted to the spot. Unable to move.
You want to go over there, too. To embrace her. But…but just seeing Roza makes the previous couple of months come hammering down on you in an unwelcome downpour of unwanted realisations.
You think: Roza caught me fooling around with Cassian.
And then you think: Fucking hell, I fooled around with Cassian again.
And then you’re wondering how — how you’ve let the recent events of your life veer down such a beaten, broken path.
It’s like Roza’s appearance brings a clarity that has been very much absent as of late. She’s always been a figure of reason and wisdom, always stopped you from spiralling.
And now she’s here, you’re looking at Cassian — your damn friend — and wondering just how much damage you might have caused.
He’s mid-conversation with Roza when he seems to notice you staring at him. Roza notices, too.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She says.
You open your mouth, unsure how you intend to respond. All that slips out is a rasped, “I’m just…so glad you’re here.”
Cassian snorts. “Tell that to your face.”
You can’t bring yourself to laugh at the jibe. And it would seem that Roza can’t, either. She’s studying you in that assessing way you’ve seen her wear a thousand times before — the one where the motherly instinct kicks in, and she’s sensing something is wrong. It seems to be a subconscious act, the way she slides her hand over her bump.
“So what are you doing back here, anyway?” Cassian asks her, slinging an arm round her shoulders. “I thought the High Lord wanted you to stay in Velaris for the pregnancy.”
“He does.” Roza says. “But then I found out Y/N had somehow ended up homeless and that he hadn’t bothered to help, so he and I aren’t on the best of terms right now.” She eyes you again. “I’ve come to move you properly into the cottage — including retrieving your belongings from your father’s house. I will not have you freezing your ass off in this dump.”
Gods, you love her.
She’s so fierce, so passionate. This is a female who housed three lost, rowdy children under her roof and offered them the same amount of love as she felt for her biological son. This is a female who does what she believes is right and damns the consequences. This is a female who doesn’t hesitate — not for one second — to help somebody in need.
She’s the exact kind of female you want yourself to be. And she’s the only person you wish to see in that moment.
“Perfect.” Cassian chirps brightly. “I’ll help. Let’s go fetch Y/N’s stuff from the bastard’s house right now.”
He takes a step towards the door, but Roza is laying a hand on his arm. She doesn’t look away from you once. “Cassian, my darling, I love you endlessly. And so, I say this with the greatest of adoration — fuck off to the mead hall, or something, and leave Y/N and I to have some girl time alone.”
“What?” He squawks in outrage. “But you just got here.”
“And I promise you we’ll catch up properly later. But right now, Y/N and I need some time alone.”
“But—”
“Do you want to stay and discuss the ins and outs of childbirth?”
Instantly, he falters. The change of tune would be comical if you were actually capable of feeling anything but despair in that moment.
“You know what?” He cracks a grin. “The mead hall sounds great right about now.”
Roza chuckles. “I thought it might. I’m taking Y/N back to the cottage. I’ll come and fetch you when we’re done. And if you see Az or Rhys, be sure to tell them to stay away, too.”
Oh.
This is going to be a serious talk.
You can’t remember the last time Roza was so insistent about it just being the two of you.
Probably when you got your first ever cycle, and she held and soothed and bathed you through it.
Will she still be so tender when she hears of the full scope of the mess you’ve created for yourself? You’re not sure you’d deserve it.
“Go easy, Cass.” Roza warns. “Don’t get into any fights.”
“Pff. As if I would.” Your friend lands a kiss on her cheek. “You look beautiful, Roz.” He says, and then he’s bustling out of the door without a care in the world.
You stare after him. Wish you could be that carefree. It feels…it feels impossible.
Gods, you just want to fucking cry.
Roza can see that. She holds a hand out.
“Come, my little dove.” She says. “Let’s get you home.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
It kind of feels like walking into the cottage for the very first time, all over again.
You remember that night like it happened only yesterday. Remember how the cold had felt as you’d followed Azriel through the snow. The noises of bickering coming  from behind the door.
Even at eleven, Az had always seemed so much taller than you. You’d noticed that as he’d strode ahead and led you inside.
Roza had been standing in the kitchen, and she’d turned to you with a curious expression. “Oh.” She’d chirped, with more warmth than you’d ever heard from your own kin. “What have we here, then?”
You, Azriel had explained to her, had been set upon by a group of males far older than you. Az had defended you, and then he’d invited you to share his dinner.
Roza had taken one look at the dirt packed beneath your fingernails and told you to thoroughly wash your hands before taking a seat. You’d done just that.
And it was at that very table that Rhysand had introduced himself.
“I’m Rhysand. My father is the High Lord.”
Roza had scolded him for showing off.
And it was after that that Cassian had eyed you with a wild, feral look and simply said, “I bet I could beat you in an arm wrestle. I beat everyone.”
“Not at my dinner table, you don’t.” Roza had put a stop to that immediately. And then she’d placed a steaming pie in the centre of the table, and High Lords and arm wrestles were all but forgotten, and Azriel had been quiet and shy at your side, but dutifully offering you different foods before he took any for himself—
Standing at the threshold of the cottage, now…it’s like watching that entire scene play out before you. The ghosts of your younger, wayward selves feast greedily on a wholesome meal that lets you forget your harrowing experiences for a little while.
How things have changed.
You finally step in. Kick the door shut behind you. The smells and warmth of your sanctuary envelop you, and you know — you fucking know that you won’t be able to keep a lid on your tears for long.
“Don’t know how many times I’ve told those idiots to put the fire out before they leave the house.” Roza mutters, but she goes striding straight towards that burning fire and welcomes its warmth. “Although, I must admit, I’m a little impressed. I expected this place to be far messier in my absence than it is. Don’t tell me they’ve actually been cleaning—”
“Roza.” You cut in, your voice shaky, desperate. “About what you saw—”
She turns back to you. Says nothing as concerned, violet eyes sweep the length of your body. She’s letting you speak, but you don’t know what the fuck to say.
You open and close your mouth as though the act will make some sense of…any of this.
It doesn’t.
“I didn’t realise you and Cassian were…” Roza clears her throat. Pauses. “I just…what of Azriel, Y/N?”
You blink at her.
Roza’s very good at knowing things she hasn’t been told, but for her to know about you and Az when she’s been in Velaris this whole time, and when, as far as you’re aware, these things have been strictly kept between you and Azriel only—
“What?” You breathe.
“Perhaps I’m wrong, I don’t know.” She frowns. “But I always suspected that you and Az would be…something more. Your connection with him has always run a little deeper than with anyone else. That’s why I was so shocked when I found you…and Cass…”
Is she wrong?
No.
And fucking damn you for taking all these years to see it. Fucking damn you for only realising you wanted Azriel as more than just your friend when somebody else began to recognise his brilliance.
Fucking damn you for all of this, and damn Azriel, too, and damn everyone.
It all comes showering down on you in an instant, harsh and unwelcome.
You love Azriel. Not just in the way you love Rhysand and Cassian. You’re in love with his soul, his spirit. Who he is will always be tethered to who you are, even though he isn’t yours to cling onto. It’s been that way since you were old enough to harbour such feelings, and you’ve been burying it all these years, burying it under bad choices and regrettable actions, because all of that seemed easier to face, than…this. The fact that you were never able to control your heart, stop it from feeling such things, and now you feel them so intensely that it hurts.
Had your deal with Az ever really been about helping him, or had it been a selfish ruse under which you could have some small experience to remember him by when he inevitably gave his heart to somebody else?
Because you are just Y/N. You’ve always just been Y/N.
You are not Kaeda — Kaeda with the wings, and the strength, and the excellence.
Just Y/N. Just Y/N—
“Speak to me, my love.” Roza steps closer. “I’m worried about you.”
Your eyes blur with tears. Your legs buckle, and you’re bracing one hand on the back of the couch while the other flies up to cup over your mouth.
“Oh, gods, what have I done?” Your voice breaks.
“Speak to me.” Roza says again.
“This is all such a mess.”
“What is, Y/N?”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t know what—what to do!”
“You need to breathe.” She responds firmly. “Deep breaths. Now.”
You try. Gods, you try. But your chest is constricting, and the air won’t reach your lungs, and all you can hear on a constant loop inside your head is one, bellowing sentence.
Everything is irreversibly changed.
Roza closes the gap between you and cups your face. The touch is soft, but firm. She forces you to look at her, and her face is blurred by your tears, but you know she’s looking at you how she’s always looked at you — with love.
“Tell me what’s going on, and I can help you through it.” She pleads.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” You sob back.
She yanks you close, arms wrapping around you. She’s held you like this through so, so much. This is no different.
But it feels different, in that it feels worse. Not only is it possible that your actions could change your relationships with both Cassian and Azriel, but also that they could change their relationship with each other, too — change the strong, steadfast dynamic between your three closest friends.
You tremble, clinging to Roza like you may just collapse. Your heartbeat gallops in your ears like rhythmic footfalls.
“Y/N—”
“It all turned into a total mess.” You choke out. “I was feeling things — I am feeling things — and then Azriel had Kaeda and I was jealous and stupid and I — I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have slept with Cassian.”
“You did what?”
Those three, outraged words are not spoken in Roza’s voice. The sudden interjection of Azriel’s is enough for your sobs to catch in your throat.
Every single inch of your body goes cold as you step back to look at him. Blink at him. Roza fights to keep hold of you.
Normally, he would have hurried over to embrace her. But he stays rooted to the last step of the staircase. He’s staring at you. Only you.
You’ve never seen him look so pale.
“Az.” Roza sighs softly. “We didn’t realise you were home.”
He doesn’t look away from you — not once — as he asks, “What did you just say?”
Roza inches towards him. “I think we all need to sit down and talk about this—”
“You fucked Cassian?”
Tears spill over, roll down your cheeks. Your voice doesn’t want to show itself as you croak out, “Az, I can explain.”
“You fucked Cassian?” He’s repeating it like…like he needs to. Like it won’t get into his head any other way. “You had sex with him?”
“Yes, but—”
“Around the time you and I were doing similar things?”
Roza’s head whips round to you in surprise. You’d failed to mention that bit. After a moment, she rights herself once more. “Azriel, you should let her speak.”
“I can’t fucking believe you.” Letting you speak is the last thing on his mind as he steps down, storming past the two of you. You reach out for him, but he’s jerking away, heading for the door.
“Azriel, please.” Your voice cracks. “Let me explain.”
“Explain that you fucked Cass? At the same time that I was sharing such…such huge things with you—”
“At the same time you were sharing them with Kaeda!”
He falls still, hand faltering on the doorknob, shoulders hunched.
And then he glances over his shoulder at you with an expression so bleak, you’d do anything, make a bargain with anyone, to wipe it from his face.
“Except that I’ve never touched Kaeda like that.” He says. “Not once. I couldn’t.”
Before you’re capable of summoning an answer, he’s yanking the door open and thundering out into the snow.
Shock pulses through you, ice-cold and harrowing. You blink, and blink and blink and blink, and you think Roza might be saying your name, but you can only choke out another sob that grates against your throat, and then your legs are moving forward, stumbling out of the door.
“Az, wait!” You cry, but he’s already striding far into the distance. “Please!”
You try to move, but it’s like the snow is binding your ankles, grounding you firmly to the spot. You sob. Try to move. Fall. Get up. It’s cold and wet. You’re hurting. Everything’s hurting.
And somebody’s yelling — yelling at you.
“Hey!” You know the voice. It’s a voice you don’t like. But you can’t put a face to it until its owner is stopping in front of you, sneering at you. Lord Devlon. “What did I tell you about staying away from these parts, girl?”
You’re incapable of answering him. You’re not even looking at him. You just stare and stare in the direction that Az disappeared in, fat, hot tears rolling down your cheeks.
“I’m talking to you.” Devlon grabs your chin between his fingers, hard. “Insolent female—”
“Remove your hand from her face at once.”
He blinks at the sight of Roza stepping out of the cottage. Clearly, he had no clue she’d returned. And even he won’t speak out against the High Lord’s pregnant mate.
He drops his hand immediately.
Roza steps up to your side and narrows her gorgeous eyes at him. Her hand sits on her swollen belly. “Look at you, Lord Devlon — following orders like a good dog. Now, go on. Fuck off.”
There’s a slight twitch of a muscle as he clenches his jaw. He hates every second of it, but he obediently turns away from you.
“Oh — Lord Devlon?” Roza calls after him.
He stops. Turns. “Yes, lady?”
“I decide who can and cannot live in my house.” She stares him down. “That call is mine and mine alone. And if I hear of you giving Y/N any more trouble? I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”
She turns her back to him with utter dismissal. If you weren’t so devastated, you might laugh at his stunned expression.
But Roza sees the pain in your eyes, and she pulls you into her arms.
“Come, my love.” She murmurs  softly. “Let’s get you inside.”
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goresuki · 3 months
Text
my thoughts on Charlastor and Alastor calling Charlie "the daughter he never had"
this will be a very long rant/vent/whatever. also, a kind of... agressive one. if u wanna read, read it, if u don't, don't, idc and idm. I don't know if some antis take things for convenience (that way) or if they really are naive, because the fact that a manipulative guy like Alastor, whose intentions are unknown, tells Charlie that he sees her as "the daughter he never had" DOES NOT SOUND as CUTE to me as many DO seem to think it does.
I don't know if they don't realize the relationship Charlie has with her parents and how Alastor seems to take advantage of her.
From the pilot we realize that Charlie has no contact with her mother. In the series it is established that they have not seen each other for 7 years.
The first episode JUST talks about Charlie having so called "daddy issues" as her father, Lucifer, is an absentee father.
Charlie appears to NOT have had a close relationship with ANY of the two for some time (or quite some time).
The only person Charlie has is Vaggie, to protect and care for her (here's why Vaggie is so "boring", as some people call her, as she is acting as a guide/parental figure for Charlie, even though their relationship is romantic).
Where am I going with these points? That I think it's complete nonsense for people to take super-literally what Alastor has said: "you're like the daughter I always wanted to have".
Isn't it convenient for the most feared overlord (not the strongest) to approach Charlie and find that she's not as vulnerable as he thought (because Vaggie is there)? Isn't it convenient for Alastor to make a very absolute polarity between Vaggie and him in the pilot, where Vaggie comes off as the "bitter one" and he as the "fun guy"? Isn't it convenient for Alastor to PROVE to Charlie over and over again that HE knows what SHE NEEDS by pulling his tricks? And, oh, surprise… Isn't it even more convenient that when Lucifer arrives, who has a lousy relationship with his daughter, Charlie, Alastor rubs it in his face that he is doing everything that he (Lucifer) is responsible for, and furthermore, hits him right where it hurts, manipulating Charlie so that she seriously BELIEVES that Alastor REALLY sees her that way, and thus making her STILL not have a GUIDE other than HIMSELF?
I'll make it simple for you. You know how narcissists work? They will make you believe that YOU are special, and at the same time, they will ALIENATE you from your loved ones to keep gaining whatever they need from you. Charlie is, literally, his supply.
Alastor is a psychopath and narcissist. Do you really think that someone who can't genuinely empathize and love is literally going to feel affection for a grown woman who is very naive and doesn't even have power over her kingdom because she is so immature? Don't you think it is VERY OBVIOUS that he has literally said to her face: "I'm going to manipulate you in my favor because thanks to me you have all these upgrades in your stupid hotel"?
Alastor hasn't as such made a deal with Charlie, but he's winning her over in HIS way.
And I don't know who's crazier: charlastor shippers like me, who don't give a damn about canon and want to enjoy shipping WITHOUT bothering ANYONE (and don't come out with the stupidity that it's a "proship". Proshipper doesn't even mean "problematic ship", it means that you are FOR shipping whatever you want, living and letting live, without HARASSING others. Let's remember that Hazbin Hotel characters DON'T. FUCKING. EXIST. Alastor is not going to come out of the screen to say: "omg, user, thanks for defending me from those evil shippers uwu", or Charlie to say: "thanks for defending me, you're so good, user…. You're such a good person". Pro: "in favor of", shipper: "shipper, ship", however you want to call it. Don't modify terms to suit yourselves because you can tell that many don't even know how suffixes and prefixes work in words. Neither Charlie nor Alastor are going to die because someone shipped them. They are FICTITIOUS characters. The FANON is not going to change the CANON. Learn to sepparate stuff, ffs. Go out and touch grass once in a while) or antis who put on a pedestal what Alastor said, believing it as a justification to ATTACK people in the fandom who shipped something different, according to them, "problematic".
There they do forget that Alastor is a manipulator, that he is a person with a LOT of arsenal to get his way. There they forget that he IS a guy Charlie should NOT trust. There it DOES count because IT CONVENIENTS THEM. That's when the canon MATTERS to them. There it COUNTS. It doesn't matter if Charlie gets hurt because of trusting Alastor, they only see what they want to see. If you guys are going to humanize this fucking characters, at least be a little bit logical. Got me? Remember what Viv said?: "ship whatever you want, JUST DON'T HARASS ANYONE". These people say: "fuck what Viv says", but on this occasion, since she DID say something convenient for them, it DOES matter what Viv says now, doesn't it? Hypocrites.
Charlie has no one beyond Alastor, and I don't remember where I read that theory, whether it was here or elsewhere, where they talked about Alastor looking for a way to alienate the hotel itself in one way or another. That's why he doesn't use very flashy technology (Vox can travel through the latest electronics, and the hotel has an old box TV), nor does he go out of his way to provide anything of good quality (like the video camera). The hotel has its own power supply (we see this when the blackout occurs during the song between Alastor and Vox).
Alastor DOES NOT WANT Charlie as his daughter, he's just taking advantage of her to get whatever he needs to get out of her.
Charlie doesn't even seem to know exactly how her powers work, and the only person who can teach her is Lucifer, her father. And if Lucifer is out of the equation, Alastor can do whatever he wants.
He's hit Lucifer right in the jugular, and Lucifer knows that all the power in the world can't make up for the wrong he did to Charlie.
Anyway, if a real anti thinks Charlastor is problematic because "AlASTor AlreADy SaiD hE sEES hEr As a DauGhtER," I remind them that they are not dealing with a character who cares about others beyond maintaining his own status, and ffs... they're not even real. KEEP SHIPPING. KEEP DRAWING. KEEP MAKING FANFICS. FUCK THESE PEOPLE THAT TRY TO HARASS YOU, FUCK THESE PEOPLE THAT TRY TO MAKE EVERYTHING "PURE" ON A SHOW ABOUT DEMONS AND HELL. FUCK THESE PEOPLE TRYING TO MAKE A FANDOM THEIR OWN FUCKING WAY BECAUSE THEY CAN'T HANDLE THERE'S A LOT OF DIFFERENT VIEWS. FUCK THEIR SAVIOR COMPLEX, JUST COMING AROUND WHEN IT'S ALL ABOUT CHARACTERS THAT DON'T EXIST, FEEL, OR THINK FOR THEMSELVES, BUT DISAPPEARS ANYTIME SOMEONE REAL COMES, HARASSING AND SENDING DEATH THREATS TO THEM. FUCK THESE PEOPLE, GIVING PSYCHOLOGICAL DIAGNOSES OVER A FUCKING TIKTOK VIDEO OTHER ANTI MADE JUST BASING THEIR THEORIES ON THEIR FIST RESULT ON GOOGLE. FUCK YALL, CAUSE YOU'RE THE REASON YOU WHINE ABOUT THIS FANDOM. JUST AS WE SAY IN SPANISH: O LA BEBES, O LA DERRAMAS.
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idkfitememate · 3 months
Text
Pt. 1 (That’s where you’re at!)
Now, you wouldn’t say you were a greedy person… which would be a huge lie because holy shit you were compared to a dragon by your friends more times than your own mother said she loved you-
When you got your paycheck - which was a very handsome paycheck mind you - you hoarded that to the best of your abilities, but when you saw something you had to have? Bought. Spent all your cash on it.
… You have to many plushies-
You weren’t exactly an avid believer in the whole “money makes the world go around!” thing, but it certainly helped. Like, have you seen how happy Elon Musk is? That bitch living the life and you want that too.
But despite your adoration to money…
THAT DID NOT MEAN YOU WANTED TO BE IT!!
₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
When you woke up from a nice nap after a long day of hard labor- I mean work, you couldn’t see. You also couldn’t feel your arms or legs or… well anything in general that one would say when describing their body.
You did have your five core senses though, which is nice. Well… minus sight-
You couldn’t move, and whenever you would scream the people you heard around you - their voices were muffled… were you in a pouch?? - did nothing to help.
You continued for what you assumed to be hours, never once paying mind to the fact that you never got hungry or thirsty or ran out of breath. Then you felt warmth.
Something large and warm wrapped around your form which scared the shit out of you because as far as you were concerned, you were still very human sized. You continued to scream into the darkness as you listened to the… transaction (???) going on above you and-
Wait a minute. You recognized that voice.
A lot of your money went to Genshin Impact in your day, you were what was known in the fandom as a “whale”, did I mention you got payed handsomely?
Yeah it was enough the basically be a sugar parent for all your friends.
So you heavily related to a certain character who was constantly characterized as helping another with his money problems.
Can you guess who it is?
I’ll give you five seconds to guess!
5…
4…
3…
2… fuck it I hate the suspense-
It was Childe!
And hearing his voice above you shattered what you may have thought was happening to you. Yes you may or may not have thought you were being kidnapped-
You then felt yourself get placed on another warm surface and oh god-
“All repairs will be made in a timely manner! Thank you for the patronage!”
You flipped through the air with a small ‘whoosh’ and landed back in the hand.
… WERE YOU FUCKING MORA?????
₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
Being merged to a weapon wasn’t fun.
Well at the very least you weren’t “merged” with a weapon. For some reason the blacksmith couldn’t find a way to use your specific mora body to upgrade Childe’s bow.
So there you sat as a glorified decoration. Right on the front of the bow.
But you did find something out, the second you felt yourself attach to the bow, you could suddenly see! And you could very tell that you were in Liyue, which made sense. And when you coughed on accident, the blacksmith jumped and looked around, before shrugging and turning back to her work, which meant you could now be heard as well!
All five senses back baby!
Only shitty thing was that you couldn’t move on your own, and you now noticed you were no longer hungry nor need to breathe, as well as sleep.
So you were stuck.
For four days.
Unable to speak or move.
I mean, you were still figuring out your existence yourself, no need to get anyone else involved with the process since you were beyond confused.
You’ve read the Isekai stories - and fanfics - but you had never read one personally about being isekaied as money. Yes, you have seen the vending machine one. And the one where he gets turned into a dummy ASMR head mic-
Not the point!
You were just trying to figure out how to… exist (?) like this. Which was pretty hard when coming to terms with the fact that you’d never eat your favorite foods again.
Never again…
“Thank you so much for choosing our services sir! Have a nice day!”
You were suddenly picked up and placed in the gentle care of Childe - ironic sentence I know - and off you both went.
You want to know what a weird sensation is?
Being a bow and feeling someone pluck your string.
Now yeah, that sounds super sensual but it felt more like someone… pulling your hair?? You couldn’t really place it but that was honestly the closest equivalent. Feeling him rub his hands all up and down your… body (?????) was a new experience to. Again, not sensual, just ticklish? And it sucked trying not to giggle-
God this was weird and confusing.
“Well I’m free for some time… I’m sure a little practice won’t hurt…”
Oh good god you could not catch a break.
₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
A new fear had been unlocked within you.
You, a piece of mora crudely attached to a psychopathic killers bow, had just been de-summoned.
And it hurt.
BAD.
No one will ever know what that was like, the feel yourself fading, every atom slowly falling away into nothingness, and then the silence. That cursed silence. Deep dark blackness was what you felt for what appeared to be thousands of years to your still human brain.
Never again would allow yourself to feel that pain.
As you were summoned, you continued to stare off into the distance, coming to terms with what you had just witnessed while ignoring every word that came out of Childe’s mouth.
Something or other about practicing you couldn’t give a shit.
You only watched the changing scenery around you as you and Childe wandered aimlessly through a forest.
Then he dropped to his knees suddenly, which cause you to silently curse and sputter in shock.
Did you mention you got good at that? Being silent? Because you did.
Being that you were placed on the front of the bow, you could see perfectly where he was aiming, that being a small bird that you had to squint - how you squinted? You don’t know - to see.
It was ridiculously far away, covered in leaves. You were also slightly scared because Childe was being silent.
Childe. Silent.
Not two words you ever expected to put into the same sentence - again - but here you were.
You felt the bow string being pulled back, and him lining up the shot.
Then, you felt something course through you.
Obviously it was the Hydro infused arrow he knocked onto the string, but something else flowed through you.
You could feel yourself reaching, trying to connect with something to better control this sudden power flow, and then you found a great source.
His Hydro Vision.
₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
Childe was a seasoned soldier and fighter, literally anyone who met him could tell you that.
He kept that fact near and dear to his heart, that fact being why he fought so hard, to become stronger and finally find that fight that would be the end of him.
He longed for the day where he would be strong enough to fight his mentor, and weak enough to die at someone who he saw worthy enough to end his stories and legacy.
… Legacy was such a funny word to the man as all he could think of when it was spoken was his second, stronger form, Foul Legacy. Ironically, that’s what he though historians would call his stories in the far future - he would never admit how close it was due to the Electro Delusion that sapped away at his life, slower due to his strength but sucking away his soul nonetheless - would call it, a Foul Legacy.
He was self-aware enough to understand that people hated him, yet oblivious enough to leave his family in the hands of The Rooster, a man known for leveling cites before they even had the chance to riot against himself and the Tsaritsa.
He was complex in the same way he was so easy to understand.
Just as how he allowed the world to see his Vision but kept his Delusion hidden.
Just recently he had gotten his bow repaired after a… well not a hard mission more so than it was annoying.
And by the Archons it was beautiful! Any and all scratches and marks had been repaired, a new layer of pain was an added, a stronger string was restrung into it and just… mmm she was beautiful.~
The finishing touch was the little golden emblem stuck directly on the front. So shiny and pretty…
He just had to take it for a test run!
Nothing too big or anything, just a little hunting as he hadn’t indulged himself recently. Just a couple small birds or mammals nothing anyone would notice.
… No that isn’t a human corpse nu uh ya stupid-
Besides that wasn’t with his bow! That was with his blades it doesn’t count!
But anyway, he quickly spotted his first target of the day, a little finch, and aimed.
He noted that his bow, while still heavy, felt much more sturdy and the current string was stronger than his last, most likely due to the whole “new string” thing rather than being better because that old string had weathered a lot.
He quickly knocked his first arrow and took a silent breath in, calming his shaking hands and the butterflies in his stomach. Of course neither were from fear or nervousness rather than they were from excitement and dare I say ecstasy. A smile forceably carved itself into him skin as he watched how easily Hydro infused itself with his arrow.
Though almost immediately after, he felt a sudden surge of power coming from not him nor the arrow, but the bow itself.
Specifically the small golden piece sitting front and center.
This was either an unknown or well known fact depending on who you asked, but the bow was Childe’s worst used weapon. He was much more skilled with a blade - like his duel Hydro blades or the duel-bladed polearm he wielded as Foul Legacy - and he even had some experience with a catalyst, but bows just seemed so.. cowardly. Even with his catalyst he was near to his opponents as its attacks were based on his fighting style, but he personally believed that bows were for the cowardly.
Those who wanted to fight but were too weak to even dare step foot onto a battlefield.
At least that’s what he thought before Capitano shoved a bow into his arms as he complained about needing something more to do. A new challenge.
And it opened his eyes.
Bows were not for the weak rather that they were for the stealthy. Something Childe was not the best at.
He was honestly more of a ‘punch more and talk later’ kind of guy. But the bow was forcing him to learn and grow, which was more than welcome in his book.
But this power was not something he had accessed yet. Hell, he’s barely felt anything like it with any other of his weapons. Closest he has ever gotten to this kind of power would be with Foul Legacy, and even then it’d be a stretch.
He’d even have the gall to say he could never feel this kind of power from his Master.
He watched as the area he sat in was bathed in a blue glow was his Vision and the arrow he still held grew brighter and brighter. With that, a gold shined through as the small golden piece on his bow - which now that he looked closer looked almost exactly like a piece of mora, just with the details buffered out - also glowed.
He couldn’t remember picking up any kind of ‘enchanted’ mora, just one random one he found on the roads right outside of Liyue.
It didn’t seem off in anyway-
His thoughts were cut off as Hydro swirled faster and stronger around him, knocking him off his knees and onto his ass, his grip on the arrow and bow tightening.
All the animals ran - of course including the small finch he was aiming for - from the sounds and lights, and something deep and primal inside of him wanted to run as well.
Something screamed that he wasn’t supposed to see this, to feel this.
Something was wrong.
Soon enough he couldn’t keep his grip on the arrow.
He let go.
₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
Everything was a blur to you.
All you knew was that you had to let go of this build up of power.
You had to.
Something bad would happen if you didn’t and god damn it you weren’t about to find out.
You truly, desperately, just wanted to go home.
The songs of narwhals and whales comforted you.
‘You will be okay’ they sang.
You would be okay.
Just let go.
₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
People in the city watched in shock as a forest not too far from the harbor became a light show of Hydro and golden light.
Small animals and creatures ran towards the city, this including monsters, but nothing stopped to attack. In fact, it seemed like everything was too scared to even consider attacking.
Ningguang and her guards quickly ran outside to asses the situation, meeting up with fellow Vision Holders on the edge of the city.
However, Xingqiu and Yelan seemed… out of it. And on top of that, Childe - though he wasn’t her favorite he was strong and could be of help - was no where to be found.
“Does anyone have a grasp on the situation?” Nigguang asked, only to receive shaken heads and no’s.
“I tried to get close,” started Xiao, “But something knocked me back. I was able to hear the Harbinger’s screams from inside, and from what I could gather, he doesn’t seem to be the… direct cause.” Despite what he said, Xiao seemed a bit upset at the fact that Childe wasn’t the true cause, likely just wanting an excuse to beat him up a little.
The Geo ridden Lady huffed befit finally turning her attention to the two Hydro users who seemed entranced by the lights.
“What are you-“
“They call to us.” Xingqiu cut her off.
“They sing for us.” Yelan finished.
Nigguang looked back to everyone else who simply shrugged, before noticing Zhongli also looked out of it, though before she could get a word out, he also spoke.
“It’s so calming… I have not felt true peace like this in…”
He didn’t even finish his sentence. His eyes, unlike the two Hydro users, were entranced by the golden lights that highlighted the light show.
Nigguang’s face was filled with confusion. Though she shook it off.
And again, before she could give out any orders, she was interrupted.
Though not by anyone, but by the lights themselves.
A flash of blue light blinded the group.
Then, the song of a group of narwhals and whales filled the sky.
₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
Blue and gold light enveloped near all of Liyue, the show being noticeable by all surrounding nations, Mondstadt especially.
And the air filled with the song of Narwhal and Whale alike.
A miracle of All-Devouring Narwhals and All-Encompassing Whales swam into the sky, dancing through the clouds.
They flew gently over Liyue, the nation having been stunned into shock and stillness over the whole situation.
Nigguang watched with bated breath as they sailed by the Jade Palace, only exhaling when they passed with not problem.
Keqing watched from beside Nigguang, mesmerized at the trail of celestial power flowing behind them.
Xiao rushed up buildings in order to get closer, but was knocked back by the sheer force of their power, though he was caught by a worried Ganyu. Both landed by an armed-and-ready Shenhe, who was more than ready to attack if need be.
Xingqiu and Yelan simply stared up at the miracle, their Visions resonating with Hydro energy they released. They felt empowered, and could feel the pure raw and unfiltered strength rolling off them in waves. They wanted to be close to that power. Wanted to feel that power.
Something deep inside them wanted that power.
Everyone in the city watched as the miracle flew just above their homes and businesses, making their presence all the more apparent as they bathed the golden city in royal blue.
This continued until a small bird was dumb enough to try and take flight to get away.
This bird being the one Childe had targeted- not that anyone knew.
The Whales and Narwhals corralled the bird, forcing it to fly higher and higher into the clouds, and it wasn’t long before all ginormous creatures followed behind it.
Then an even brighter flash of blue echoed across the skyline, small star-like glitters falling to Teyvat then fading from existence before they could touch its surface. A small amount of feathers followed after.
Nigguang could feel her jaw drop.
All that… to kill a bird?????
… She was going to need a week off just to comprehend what had just happened.
Keqing pat the woman on the back, sighing in tiredness as well.
She had a sneaking suspicion that Childe may have had something to do with this… event. Gods the paperwork she was about to be loaded with…
₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
Childe had figured out what primal instinct had led him to hide in the cave he was currently tucked in.
Foul Legacy.
He had yet to really tell anyone, but due to his time in the Abyss and its creation, it was safe to say it pretty much had a mind of its own. Which wasn’t bad as it would help him to doge attacks or alert him of presences he may not have noticed himself, but the shrieking and crying he heard from it deep in his soul was enough to tell him that this whole situation was wrong.
Nothing about what just happened should have been… well it shouldn’t have happened to say anything.
He could still hear it, resonating deep inside his soul, Electro cracking out whenever he heard a noise he couldn’t identify.
It was protecting him.
As he would for it.
He didn’t dare draw another arrow from the bow in his grasp, not until he learned what the fuck just happened. Including the fact that for some odd reason, he desperately wanted to just… stare(?) at the Narwhals and Whales until they disappeared, luckily Foul Legacy snapped him right out of that and told him to find shelter.
He did have his Hydro blades out, however, patiently waiting till he - and Foul Legacy - felt safe enough to exit.
A sudden loud caw of a bird made him flinch - not his proudest moment - and kick the bow to the side. What he wasn’t expecting was the loud string of curses that came from… the… bow..?
So now it was pinned to the wall by one blade and a foot, the other blade pointed directly at… it? There were no weak points on a bow..?
…Were there..?
₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
This is not what you wanted.
First, you get isekaied against your will; you didn’t even remember how you supposedly DIED… if you DID die anyway…
Two, you were reincarnated as MONEY. FUCKING MONEY. How does that… who comes up with that??? A fucking high schooler who has nothing better to do than write shitty fanfiction????
And finally, three… HE KICKED YOU!!! WHO GAVE HIM THE RIGHT TO THREATEN YOU?!?
You didn’t understand your powers, what the FUCK just happened, why Hydro just… became?? you??? And why on gods green earth you had to be MORA. You’re never gonna get over that you became MORA???? Like??? Really??????? Money????? You mean, you love the stuff but COME ON-
Jesus fuckin’-
Huffing at the man before you, you finally decided speak to this bitch before you because how dare he.
“Listen here-“
You were cut off by the blade moving closer to your body(??????) and Childe growling - yes. Growling - at you.
“No you listen. I don’t know what you are but what in the name of the Tsaritsa was that?”
If only this man could see your eye twitch.
“No how about YOU listen? I don’t know what the fuck that was, but I plan on figuring it out now could you PLEASE MOVE YOUR DAMN BLADES FROM MY FACE?!?!? God…”
The Hydro blades slowly removed themselves from your face, as did the boot. But you were then picked up by the man, held shockingly gently in his grip.
“What… are you?” He asked hesitantly.
“I… I honestly don’t know how to answer that question. But I’m pretty sure I’m that little Mira piece on the front.” You answered. You forced yourself to calm down. This wasn’t his fault, just so happened to be the guy who picked you up… this was going to be a mantra for a while…
“Oh… so your this little thing right here?” You felt his fingers wrap around you - and you mean your real body - and pull. Fear immediately filled your being.
“Wait! WAIT!-“ He tugged you right out, rendering you silent.
When he pulled you out, your body glowed and you reverted back to looking like a regular piece of mora. Engravings and all.
You, meanwhile, were screaming your head off, as you now knew that if removed from a weapon, you’d just be a regular ass piece of money again. Immediately you mind started racing, wondering as to way, and the only thing you could come up with was the Elemental Energy, but lore wasn’t really your strong suit… you just liked the pretty women and men…
You felt yourself gently being pressed into the slot carved for you in his bow, and started talking again.
“NEVER! Do that again, please. Unless absolutely necessary, don’t do that. You know how terrifying it is to be able to see and speak then move a couple inches and no longer be able to see or have others hear you? Fucking horrifying I’ll tell you that…” you watched the man shiver before sighing.
“Noted. Um… anything else I should be made aware of before I ask anymore questions?”
You jumped on the opportunity.
“Whenever I am apart of your weapons. Don’t. De. Summon. Them. Hurts like hell. Ever felt your molecules beings torn apart bit by bit? Not fun, don’t recommend it.” Again, Childe shivered.
“Now… you really don’t know what that was out there?” He asked again, and you sighed.
“I wish I did. I’ll admit, I was thinking of that one move you use as Foul Legacy where you summon a Whale… and a bit of your master…”
You watched as Childe’s eyes lit up.
“You know of Foul Legacy? And of my Master?” Then his eyes darkened.
“How do you know of them..?” You shivered… as well as money can shiver anyway.
“Uhm… magic?” You asked, a noticeable tilt in your voice.
His glare then lightened up.
“Oh! Like… when you attach to a weapon, you suddenly gain a bunch of knowledge on that person?” Holy shit he just gave you a way out!
“Uh… yeah! Yeah that’s exactly what it is! You figured it out! Sorry I was uh… hesitant. Just didn’t want to reveal all my secrets, you know?” Holy shit. Holy fuck. Please work please work-
“That’s really amazing! A magical piece of mora… with the ability to make your attacks beyond that of a God’s… heheheh…”
Oop. Shit. That was not good.
“Listen. I’m not going to do anything for you without my consent, you got that? I’m not even here of my own free will mind you. Just gained sentience in your bag and all of a sudden I’m a bow. This is going to be a symbiotic relationship or I’m finding someone else, alright?” You spoke up, not even hiding the fact that you were… well a little more than concerned with what he just said.
“… What are you going to do if I don’t respect your wishes?” Shit fuck shit fuck-
“… I will scream next time you use me.”
And into a standstill you both sat.
He stared at you and he could feel you glaring into him. It was probably weird feeling a bow glare into him. New feeling he never thought he’d feel before.
“… Alright. Taking someone’s free will isn’t really something I do anyway. So don’t be fearful… comrade?” Was he asking your name..?.. Eh. Comrade is nice and you don’t feel like giving it out so meh.
“Comrade works. And uhm… yeah.” Welp that was awkward. Good job 👍🏾!
The two of you continued to stare at each other in silence for a few moments.
“So… what’s your favorite dish?”
“I can’t eat asshole-“
“Childe!”
The mentioned man whipped his head in the direction of the call, honestly scaring you with how fast it moved - you are a hundred percent sure you heard a crack.
By the covered entrance of the cave stood Nigguang, Keqing, Zhongli and both Hydro Vision users. Nigguang was the one to call him.
“What are enough doing out here? Do you have any idea was caused… whatever that was?? And - as much as I hate to ask - are you alright?” She was firing questions out at an extreme speed, making both you and Childe dizzy.
“Uhm… I was hunting, I… haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about! And yes , I am okay. Thank you for asking?” You knew he sucked ass a lying but like… how did that sound convincing in anyway?? The hesitation just made it worse!-
“You haven’t the foggiest clue, you say…” Keqing asked while glaring at the ginger. Ed She Ran lookin’ headass-
“Yep! No idea, not the slightest idea, definitely wasn’t my bow or the enchanted mora on it! Nope not at all.”
The group looked at him, and he looked at them.
They looked at him, and he looked at them.
They looked at him, and he looked at them.
And this went on for several minutes before this super smart man said:
“Yep, not me at all.”
And before anyone coup ask questions you groaned, forcing all attention into yourself before tearing him a new one.
“You dumb motherfucker! “I haven’t the foggiest idea😢” my ass!”
“How did you say that?-“
“Shut your bitchass up before I see it shut. I should beat your ass for that. How they fuck you gonna say some shit like that and expect them to just go “Oh okay!😚” like some dumbass?”
“No really how-“
“I will slap the stupid outta you don’t fucking test me ginger bitch. Fatherless. That’s why your father sold you ass off it’s cause you so DAMN stupid, Jesus.”
“Mora?”
“What do you fucking want you cunt.”
“… We’re still in front of people.”
“… I will not hesitate to shoot all of you-“
… Nigguang was going to have so much paperwork tonight.
MORA!READER MORA!READER MORA!READER MORA!READER MORA!READER LETS GIVE IT UP FOR MORA!READER!!!!! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚
They’re here you guys!!!! Get happy get wild!!!! Holy shit that ending was mild!!! I hate it!!! Anyway-
This is gonna SAGAU because… meh. But that doesn’t matter! Their here! But I’m not done yet, next thing on my checklist is humanizing the animals (Main ones) so I’ll be be radio silent for a bit again lmao (unless I choose to post shit which is very likely-) ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Mora!Reader! More is, of course, on the way! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა
Have a magnificent day/night my dears!~
/)/)
( . .)
c( づ♡ Loves you guys!! <3
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heartpiratedrabbles · 3 months
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Marital Problems
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Prompt: "Open your mouth for me baby..."
NSFW
Katakuri X Fem Reader
         You were sitting looking out the window at the upcoming tea party that Big Mom was going to host. It was nerve-wracking being around your mother-in-law but as time went on, you had learned how to avoid her gaze and orders. You had been sold off for marriage in exchange for protection of your kingdom. You’re rather certain the deal had went haywire when you’re father kept making demands but thankfully at that point you had been long since married to your husband and Big Mom didn’t seem to care as long as you didn’t cause any problems.
         All things being said you really didn’t mind, being the wife of the Minister of Flour had its perks and everyone in town knew you. It was only times when Big Mom called her children for a tea party and thus their spouses that your nerves became a wreck. You’re wedding had been about a year ago, it was the most you had seen of your husband since he had a whole week off afterwards. Ever since though he had barely spent a day with you, sometimes coming in at night to check on you before disappearing to God knows where.
         It’s not that you were on bad terms with Katakuri, he did often make some time to spend an hour or two with you every now and then but you had never seen him relax. And despite being married for over a year now, you had yet to consummate the marriage. Not that it had truly mattered to you, but it was rather embarrassing when the person who’s supposed to be your husband walks in on you taking care of yourself. His mysterious personality and towering figure certainly gave you enough to fantasize about, but as luck would have it, your husband must’ve had a steel resolve, often just muttering a sorry for interrupting before leaving you frustrated.
         It also didn’t help that Daifuku and Oven’s wives had gotten pregnant recently, both of whom had gotten married within the same month as you and Katakuri. The mixture of sexual frustration, baby fever, and wife talks had slowly made you more forward in your wants.
         Katakuri. Your husband. Your husband. Had yet to even touch you. Even at the wedding, he had leaned in close, but he had kept that damned scarf on, something you had thought was strangely cute for your shy yet powerful husband, but now had been a daunting reminder of how closed off he still was. “Are you ready Y/N?” Katakuri’s voice rang in your ears snapping you out of your daze. You turn around to where he was standing at the door, hand outreached for you to follow him.
         “Of course, dear.” You smiled walking next to him, he gently placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed lightly, “Guard duty again?” He hums in response before escorting you to your seat.
~~~
         You slightly jab at the cake in front of you, this was meant to be a social event but you couldn’t help to stare at how doting Oven was to his wife. Even Daifuku had come along with a small gift before leaving and now you were in the mindless conversations again of the girls first nights with their husbands. Talks of how thair own husbands made it worth their while. You often talked of how you adored Katakuri yourself but always fell short when it came to intimate details, most of the time they just thought you shy on the matter. As their talks became more detailed you couldn’t help but fantasize about your ever-absent husband.
         The thought of him finally losing control, picking you up and throwing you on the bed. Ripping your clothes off with his hands before finally removing his scarf to ravish your body. Leaving marks all the way up and down your body as you breathlessly moan for more.
You imagine how it would feel to be pushed to your knees as he sat in front of you, his cock right in front of you to enjoy. You wondered how he’d react when you lick the tip, before slowly leaving a trail of saliva on the underside before making your way back up to purse your lips around his throbbing member. How he'd demand you to finally take him in your mouth.
“Open your mouth for me baby…” You jump at your husband’s voice right in your ear, your face becoming the deepest shade of red it had ever been and a slight gasp that sounded closer to a moan escapes your lips. You look over to see where your husband had been holding a fork full of cake for you, not realizing what the words he said had done to you. You could hear the other wives chuckling at your reaction but pushed the thoughts aside as you slowly opened your mouth to be fed. “I noticed you hadn’t eaten anything this entire time, are you feeling sick?”
Oh. You’re poor, oblivious husband. He doesn’t realize just how much of a pervert he married to be fanaticizing about such things in front of most of his family, “I’m alright babe… just. Tired.” He looks down at you quizzically before glancing over at the giggling wives for context.
“Oh I’m sure she’s tired.”
“Probably just imagine your guy’s first night together. It must’ve been a doozy with how she refuses to tell us anything,”
“She’s always daydreaming about you but never gives us the details!” Their giggling continued and you shot up from your chair as your embarrassment rises.
“I uh. Gotta go, I’ll meet you back home” You say quickly, escaping the social interaction as you head back to a ship that would take to Flour Town. You could hear them continue to talk about how much you adore him but are too shy for your own good and quicken your pace.
~~~
         You rush back to your room the second you had gotten home. The ride back had been awkward and let your mind stew over everything and it had all only wrapped around back to you wanting more from your husband. You pace back and forth, knowing Katakuri he’d probably just think you had a small fever, but what had they said to him after you left?
You groan before flopping onto the bed, you had chosen this one specifically because it was large enough for Katakuri to starfish on and still have room for you, but since the purchase it had only ever been used by you. Your mind thinks back to the words he said. “Open your mouth for me baby,” his deep voice penetrated your mind as you let your imagination go back to your previous fantasy.
You close your eyes fully immersing yourself as you slip one hand under your shirt while the other wraps around your jaw, thumb on your lip. You imagine it as Katakuri’s hand, despite the obvious size distant and slowly open your mouth. You imagine the look on Katakuri’s face as you let his thumb push down on your tongue as you glance up, opening your jaw further. You’d imagine he swear under his breath before pushing more fingers in your mouth, you happily wrapping your lips around them.
The thought of his breath hitching as you suck, all the while he slowly pumps his finger in and out, feeling your tongue wrap around them. You moan into the feeling as he shoves his fingers deeper, scissoring them apart before pulling them out completely. The imagine of a string of saliva still connected from your lips to his fingers before he flips you onto your stomach and propping your ass up slightly. Slowly circling the wet finger between your folds, ignoring how wet you already are.
The moan that escapes your lips as you try to grind back, hoping for his digits to intrude. Begging slightly for anything before feeling them slowly enter you, working their way deeper. You rock your hips as the fingers pump in and out, widening you, as his thumb played with your clit. You cry out his name wanting more.
And that’s when you hear it. Stopping your own ministrations and bringing your fantasy to a fast halt. Your eyes snapping open but not seeing much as your face was pressed into the bed. You quickly remove your hands from under your clothes, quickly flipping over to sit on the bed while grabbing the blanket to hide your shame as you look at the man in front of you. Your own husband, whom was leaning against a bed post was staring at you with something in his eyes, and while you had adjusted yourself to sit facing him, you were avoiding eye contact. His arms were crossed and you could see his fingers digging into his arms and his eyes bore into you waiting for a response.
“Y/N,” His voice cooed out and it sent your nerves flying as he leaned over you, “Is this why you left the tea party early?” He slowly reaches a hand out to wrap around your wrist, pulling it the blanket would stop covering you. Your thighs were pressed together, slightly rubbing against each other.
You stayed silent, he has never reacted this way to walking in on you, he’d always leave as quickly as he had entered. But this time, it seemed as though he was watching you when you finally opened your eyes. His voice was slower and more stern and it was making you crazy. “Is it true what they said?” You give him a quizzical look before realizing just how close he was to you, the fur on his scarf practically brushing against you, “That you absolutely adore me? And can’t wait to have ‘mini’ me’s running around?”
Your eyes widen as you try to stammer something out but are too tongue tied to let even a single comprehensible word escape your lips and he leans back amused at your reaction. You finally take a deep breathe before coming to a resolve and looking at him dead on, “You’re my husband Katakuri, of course I adore you. I vowed to stay with you for the rest of my life and I meant it. I may have been brought here as an arranged marriage but there wasn’t a second that I would change how things ended up.” You can hear him take a deep breath himself but remain silent, “Well… I would change one thing…” You break your eye contact, slowly tracing your eyes down toward his pants before snapping them back up.
“Bloody hell Y/N.” He finally breathes out before sitting down next to you. Your eyes widen a bit, seeing him sitting is new, different. He’s still towering over you but it’s the first time you’ve seen your husband actually sit he grabs both your shoulders and moves you to face him. “I’ve never touched you because I thought you wouldn’t want it-“
“That’s ridiculous! I want all of you. You can’t imagine how much I want you Katakuri,” You reply and you ball up your fists in frustration. “I know you have this ‘must be perfect’ thought process but I love you regardless. I don’t care about any of you so called imperfections. You’re perfect in your own right and I wish you’d relax around me. In fact, I hope I’m the only person you can let your guard down around because that means I can just monopolize who you are to myself.” You huff out your haphazard confession, crossing your arms and looking away.
One of Katakuri’s hand leaves your shoulder and you see him placing it over his already covered face, obscuring the slight tint that had risen on his upper cheeks, his own eyes averting their gaze away from you. With a couple of seconds, he sighs and looks at you again. “Before we go farther, I have to show you something,” He puts his hand up to his scarf, “If you change your mind. It’s okay.” He whispers the last part in a voice so vulnerable you didn’t think it was from your husband for a second.
You scoff at the idea of changing your mind but just nod in response to him as he pulls his scarf down. He refuses to look at you as you see the lower half of his face for the first time. The scars that had peaked out from the scarf stretching down to either side of his wide mouth with 4 sharp fangs poking out from his lips. You reach a hand up to touch his cheek and you feel him shudder slightly underneath the touch, you run your thumb over his bottom lip, before running into one of his teeth, pulling down on the lip to reveal a sharp row of teeth underneath.
Katakuri clearly was not expecting this type of reaction from you as he froze under your touch, only his eyes moving to studying your face before you look up at him with a smile. “You can finally kiss the bride!” you teasingly say waiting for him to process your words.
You decide to take the lead and sit up to lean in closer, stopping just inches away from his lips. “You’d only be a year late to it~” both your hands on either side of his face as you look in his eyes. He seems to finally come to terms with your choice and hesitantly leans in to kiss you.
It’s soft and weak, and for the first time since being married you felt a desire that you couldn’t stop yourself to control. You snake one of your hands around his shoulder while the other travels behind his head to tug at his hair, deepening the kiss.
You lick his lips and he parts his, the sloppy first kiss of your husband. You stop at the realization, leaning back for a second to catch your breath as the further implications of your sheltered shy husband opening up to you entails. Your thoughts turn into hungry desire as you go back in for another slopping kiss, adjusting your legs to be wrapped around his waist, sitting on top of him.
Katakuri is finally able to push you back for a second, you catching your breath as his eyes meet yours, “Is there anything else I missed in the first year?” His implications were clear enough for you and made you groan in desire.
You immediately grind your hips down, feeling the growing bulge underneath you as you go to push off his vest. Only leaning away from your husband as you rip the dreaded scarf off his head entirely before peppering his cheeks and lips with kisses, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you~” you moan out.
You can feel your husband chuckle as he pushes your shirt up and over your head, “Oh I think I saw it often enough to have some sort of idea” He rubs your thighs with his hands, “I was standing there for quite some time Y/N” He leaned down to whisper right into your ear. He pushes you back onto the bed, ripping his gloves off before gently grabbing your jaw, his thumb pressing against your lips, “I believe it was something like this?” He questions rather confidently as you open your mouth, realizing just how big his hands really are. You flick your tongue at his thumb before wrapping your lips around it, sucking on the appendage.
He watches you closely as you reach down to remove yourself of your shorts, slightly bobbing your head. You struggle to get your shorts off an ankle and Katakuri helps by ripping the clothing off the rest of the way, leaving you fully bare. He hovers his hand above you for a second, hesitation, “Tell me if I hurt you alright love?” You moan around his thumb nodding before he gingerly circles around your entrance, pushing his digit in slightly.
His singular finger is so much thicker than what you would have imagined and moan at the intrusion. Katakuri takes his thumb away from your warm mouth and caressed your body, moving from your waist to your stomach, ghosting over your breasts. Lightly squeezing whenever he pleases.
A second finger presses in to you and you roll your hips wanting more, the stretching feeling better than nothing but your lust-filled mind needing more. You groan out your husband’s name as he curls his finger, hitting a bundle of nerves. At the sudden shudder of your body Katakuri removes his hands sitting back with concern in his eyes.
“Katakuri~ Please. I need you” You moan, grabbing his wrist, bringing his wet fingers to your lips, “I want you inside me, I felt good” You give him puppy dog eyes as you lick your own slick off him and you see him blink, taking his time to process the scene in front of him.
You quickly move to sit back up, placing a hand on Katakuri’s shoulder gently shoving him, knowing full well he wouldn’t budge if he didn’t want to. He blinks for a second before slowly laying back to watch what you’ll do next. You take a deep breath and undo his buckle, glancing up to see him intently staring.
A blush rises on your cheek as you look back at what’s in front of you, quickly unzipping his pants. You can see the rather large bulge peaking through his boxers and you take a second before slowly reaching to release his length. It’s larger than you could have expected and you’re filled with a sudden desire and dread.
Determination fills your mind and you give his tip a small kiss before slowly taking him in your mouth. Your jaw having to widen much more than you’d wish but the groan above you fills you with more pleasure. You rub your thighs as you slowly bob your head, feeling how wet you are.
You realize just how empty you feel and with a pop you remove your mouth, moving up so his dick caresses your entrance. Your rock back and the forth, his cock twitching at the warmth and Katakuri curses a bit before gently grabbing your hips. You look down to see him panting beneath you, his eyes lidded over. You raise your hips, leaning down to aim his top right at your entrance, the gentle prod encouraging you.
You slowly sink down, the tip stretching to make you moan, you move your hands to his chest to help prop you up as you feel the slight burn of stretch. Rocking up and down slowly, getting use to more and more until it becomes too much. Your breath hitches at how full you feel. This is what you’ve wanted for so long but you can’t imagine taking any more.
A groan of pain escapes your lips as you try to take more of his lips and you immediately feel Katakuri’s grip tighten, lifting you slightly and pulling you to his chest, “You don’t have to force yourself Y/N.” One hand moves to your hair, the other wrapping around your back, “This is more than enough for now.” His voice purrs in your ears but you just pout in his chest.
“I want all of you though,” You moan into his chest, rocking on what length is already in you, only being stopped by the firm arm wrapped around you.
“We can work on that later, no need to hurt yourself in the meantime,” He pumps his hip slowly, not going too deep and your mind flutters at the thought of doing this more often. He kisses the top of your head and you moan at this being tenderly loved feeling. Soon enough you can feel the pressure build and you moan for Katakuri. You lean up to kiss him, to which he gladly obliges and without thinking you cum yourself, rotating your hips to carve into your mind just how full you feel in the moment.
You catch your breath for a second as he pulls out of you and you hear him sigh with content in his voice, although you notice he himself hadn’t climaxed yet. “Katakuri…” You look up at him, grinding down unto his still hard member.
“I’m more than happy with how things are for now Y/N. No need to do anything else,” He kisses you gingerly but you groan dissatisfied.
“Don’t say that… I want to make you feel good too,” You wiggle out of his embrace, “Let me do this at least,” You grab his member, giving it a few good few pumps before readjusting, crossing your legs with his members between your thighs. “It’s not the same, but I hope it will make you feel good” You mutter while glancing back up at him whose blush is more evident. He gives you a tentative nod before thrusting his hips again.
Soon enough his own orgasm comes, his arms pulling you closer as streams of white shoot out onto your thighs. The feeling of having your thighs fucked making you feel impossibly empty the entire time but also still feeling pride in hearing your husbands breathy groans alongside feeling the squeezes to you breasts and hips.
“How do you feel?” You lean your head back into Katakuri, glancing up at his face with a smile. He’s still catching his breath before looking down with you.
“Amazing,”  He shifts to hold you bridle style as he stands up, “Why don’t we get cleaned up now?” He asks while heading to the bathroom, a glint in his eye that implies he’s not finished for the day.
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mochinek0 · 4 months
Text
Family Secrets
Damian couldn't believe his eyes. He had seen pieces of that costume when he lived in the League, but never did he expect to see his mother, disguised, in Paris! He carefully kept an eye on her as she walked into a bakery. He felt his own breath hitch as a young girl came and hugged her.
"Nonna!" she cried.
'Grandmother?'
"Hello, My Leetle Fairy." his mother replied, hugging her back.
"Are you having fun on your travels?" the girl questioned, "Where did you go this time?"
"Egypt." his mother declared.
The girl smiled, "Did you see the pyramids?"
His mother brought out a keychain of a pyramid and handed it to the girl.
"It's great!" the girl smiled, "I'll keep it on my desk so when I see it, I can think of you."
"I wish you could come with me." the disguised Talia declared.
"Maybe when I'm older?" the young girl answered.
Talia tapped the young girl's nose, "Possibly, but we know very well how hard you work."
"Mom!" announced a man, who seemed the size of Bane, "How are you?"
Damian watched on in shock. He was aware that his mother was much older than she appeared. Hearing someone around his father's age, refer to his mother as a maternal figure was unsettling.
"I'm fine, Tom." she answered.
"Would you like to put your bag down and rest?" he asked.
"Nonsense." his mother replied, "I may look older, but I'm fine. I wanted to see if Marinetta would like to take a ride around the city with me."
"Yes!" the girl cried.
Damian watched as they both got on a motorcycle and drove off.
It took awhile, but Damian finally spotted them near the Seine, eating ice cream. The girl was looking down at something, in her lap. His mother's eyes connected with his and he knew he had made her.
"I'll be right back." Gina spoke, kissing Marinette on the head.
Gina walked in Damian's direction.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"Do you plan to kidnap her, Mother?" Damian questioned.
"Of course not!" Gina snapped.
"Who is she?" he asked.
Talia sighed, "Your niece; she's your age."
"So the man who called you mother-"Damian began.
"Your grandfather wanted me out of the way. He was looking for a male successor to take over." Talia began to explain, "He kicked me out of the League, briefly, and I had some semblance of a normal life. I fell in love with a baker. Tom is our son, before I ever met your father. Essentially, he is your older brother."
She sighed, "Everyhting was fine and I was happy, until he sent someone to exterminate us. Before I killed him, I learned my death was a test. Kill me and become successor to the League. I returned with his head and threw it at your grandfather's feet. He looked at me and said he would allow me back on one condition."
"What was it?" Damian asked.
"I had to leave my family." she admitted, "I said I understood and would be back in three months. I knew he would never stop coming after us."
"Why three months?" her son questioned, "You were already there. Did they not know of the League?"
"Tom was getting married and no, my family knew nothing about the League. I returned and told my family I would be 'traveling in my old age'. A few years after he got married, I came back to a three year old granddaughter. Your grandfather found out and forbid my return."
"Grandfather is dead." Damian spoke.-changing subject
"I've been stopping in more." she declared, "They aren't like us. They're not like your father. They know nothing about my past, aside from divorcing a man, who made me happy. I tell them I'm traveling around the word. I wear a wig and makeup. At some point, I will have to stop visiting all together since anyone else will grow old and pass on. The League........you lose sense of time when there. Two years ago, I thought she was still three. She was turning fourteen."
"What about the man?" her son asked.
Talia smiled, "Reminds me of your grandfather, actually. He's all about 'traditions', so perhaps it was for the best."
"Nonna!" Marinette cried out.
"Please, Damian, leave them alone." his mother whispered.
Damian watched as his mother walked away. He had never known her to beg for something.
"My Leetle Fairy, are you ready to go back home?" Gina asked, "Do you have new inspiration for your designs? I can't wait to see the clothes you create this time."
Damian watched as the girl put her sketchbook away.
'Clothes? Designs?'
He smiled softly. She was an artist, like him. He watched as his mother got on the motorcycle with his niece. What surprised him was seeing his niece glare at him. Damian chuckled.
'Mother may not see it, but she is a lot like them. A little fairy.'
"Damian, a Fairy is someone who helps people who are lost in the dark. It's not always in a literal sense; it can be figurative."
The young Al-Ghul turned and walked in the opposite direction.
'Fairy is a suitable name for my niece. I wonder how Mother would feel learning her true nature? A Fae who lures in her prey.'
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utterlyazriel · 15 days
Text
whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)
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a/n: WE MADE IT TO CHAPTER FIVE!! EVERYBODY CLAP!! labour of love fr <3 but we're almost to the scene that sparked the whole freakin series and i. oh man im just yearning for that hurt/comfort
word count: 4.4k
synopsis: You test out if your efforts with the tonics are worth anything and Azriel bestows you with a gift. He asks about the Blood Rite and you ponder the strange, golden thread you've been feeling in your chest. Disaster strikes when night falls.
CHAPTER FIVE :: CONFIDANTS
You look younger in your sleep, Azriel thinks.
He doesn't think he's ever seen you like this before. The hard lines of your face are all smoothed out as you rest, so unlike your usual expression. There's something softer about you.
The constant furrow between your brows is whisked away for once. He can still see the familiar line between your brows though, if he looks close enough.
If he can look past the bruises that mottle your face, that is.
The damage you've sustained from training within the camp is severe enough to curdle something sour in his stomach.
Azriel had held his reservations about his trip back to Velaris— a suspicion that proved to be well founded. His own memories of training at Windhaven provide plentiful ways for you to have ended up in this state.
You’re curled up instinctively in your sleep, wings tucked around yourself. It sews of thread of worry through Azriel's chest, a slight concern at the state of your wounds and how the position will agitate them. While you don't move much in your sleep, he knows from experience that it'll be hell when you finally do stretch back out.
But... he can’t bring himself to wake you. You need the sleep desperately.
Azriel is fairly certain that the huddled form you take is some subconscious way to protect yourself, even in your sleep. Your wings drape across yourself, keeping yourself covered, hidden.
And while that makes some part of Azriel's heart ache, he can't deny that you—it looks… sort of cute.
Azriel forces himself to avert his eyes, ducking his chin for extra measure. Those pesky thoughts were becoming more and more frequent — something that he's pointedly ignoring at this point.
Protect, his shadows whirl around his ears like tiny gusts of wind, whispering their suggestions. Protect, they whisper.
Protect. Both a thought and a feeling. A guiding intuition that seems to reverberate from his very bones.
The suggestion from his shadows isn't entirely left field either, as they always take inspiration from what he can see. From his wandering thoughts, from his prolonged gentle gaze that lays upon you whenever he can.
Azriel scowls lightly at himself. He had no claim to protect you and further more, most Illyrian males like yourself would take great amounts of offence to the mere insinuation. He knows that you are more than capable.
He steals another glance at your peaceful, sleeping figure and his shadows seem to quieten in response— at least about you. The whispers don't ever truly quieten.
Azriel's fairy certain where they're getting their ideas. It's what he wonders too as he takes in your battered face once more—whether it’s the truth or just his familiar brand of desperate hope.
Something that would explain the urge to protect beyond reason.
Something like... a bond forged in starlight.
The Mother's Kiss whistles quietly outside and Azriel shifts his gaze again and this time, it lays upon the Heartstriker.
Sitting atop the one table-top in your shelter, the blade stays sheathed away in the very same bejeweled case that Azriel had found it in. Same as on that very first day he laid his hands on it.
It had been a wretched mission. One of his very first. It was not performed with the eloquence he would come to learn in future years.
Heartstriker had not been the objective of the mission. Far from it, in truth. The objective was a simple stealth reconnaissance into the Court of Nightmares.
He was to delve beneath the rock of the mountain in a mission very similar to his current. Swirlings of rumours and whispers of rebellion, against the new Highlord. Azriel was there to learn who had the guts to pick up the knife and try.
Heartstriker was a ploy. A shiny trick that Azriel had not yet learned how to evade.
He was still a novice by his own standards, only a few hundred years old. Spying in this sense was still fresh, still new. The work he had done under Rhysand's father during the war had been far more reliant on his brute strength. He had strict instructions not to hesitate to draw his blade.
It had taken time to relearn the importance in a message sent with words.
To remember the power of mercy.
This mission had been the first and only time Azriel had underestimated the measures in place in the Court of Nightmares, meant to keep out the likes of him.
His hesitance to kill had given another Fae time to trip an alarm, to flood the room with warriors. So when he had been backed into a corner by the snarling miscreants that lived in the belly of the mountain, taken by surprise, he hadn't hesitated to snatch up any weapon he could reach.
And it had branded him, singeing him right to his core.
But when he tried to force his fingers apart, they wouldn't obey, even as they screamed with the pain of the invisible flames. It was as though his hand had become fused with the blade, each atom of his being completely joined with the bronze of the sword through a terrible, unstoppable and invisible force.
Every part of him shrieked in agony. An age-old fear reared up within him, his hands burning like they were set alight and he could feel the flames licking at his skin, at his hands, could smell the scent of burning flesh—
He had fought on and won, all the same, taking on two battles at once. Fighting foes by real and faux, all whilst burning up from within all the while. The sword was immeasurably heavy and yet too light, all at once.
And only once almost all his enemies were slain, their blood staining the marble floors, did the burning cease. The blade seem to hum in response to the battle— drawn to the final foe who was clawing for his breath through his blood-soaked throat.
The tip of the sword had urged Azriel forward, like pulled by an invisible string, and he let it lead him, plunging the blade through the chest and into the heart of the last enemy left.
Only after, had the humming stopped. The sword finally clattered from Azriel's strong grip, the fusion broken.
His hands were same as ever, mottled with their scars, but with no indication of the burning he knew he had felt.
On his return, Rhys had told him the history of the sword and it's duly fitting name: Heartstriker.
It hadn't been claimed in centuries and as such, naturally it had come to live amongst other cursed objects within the Court of Nightmares. Unable to be used, unless someone bested the pain it took to raise it.
But Azriel had, entirely by accident.
It is said that once mastered, it will always strike true. Rhys had said, violet eyes gleaming as he looked over the bronze sword with piqued interest. That it's more than a regular sword but a living thing you must work in tandem with.
If anyone tries to take it from you, they must suffer the same fate. It can be gifted freely but, He had paused, that smirk that held no warmth in it pulling at his lips. I'm sure you can guess how often that happens down there.
It hadn't been used within the Night Court either, condemned to another hundred years or so without sight of battle. Azriel had more than enough blades of his own. The Illyrian broadsword that he had earned all that time ago in the Blood Rite for a proper battle and his Truth-Teller for the finer details.
Heartstriker wasn't right for his stature. Too short, strange weighted.
He'd kept it all the same. Perhaps, he told himself, to keep some other Fae from suffering the same fate if they laid hands on it.
His hazel eyes drift back across to you, bundled within yourself. You make a noise in your sleep, a gentle snuffle, and Azriel finds himself smiling.
Or perhaps, he thinks, he knew to keep it for entirely other reasons.
The quick healing of Illyrian's is more often a blessing than it is a curse.
On today's quiet winter morning, it is somehow both.
When you wake, dragged from your slumber in the early hours, it's before the sun has begun to make an appearance on the horizon. The shelter is coated in a soft darkness of dawn. The trees sway outside, a thousand creatures still roaming amongst their branches, reliant on the dark before daylight breaks.
It's the pain that wakes you, ebbing in through your sleep til it shakes off your sleep. You wake with your teeth already gritted.
The only pleasant surprise is that fact you're not shuddering yourself awake out of a nightmare, especially considering yesterday's training session.
You have a feeling that it has something to do with the sleeping Illyrian, propped up beside the fireplace, keeping watch.
His shadows still move about, even in his sleep. His neck is tucked down, his forehead pressed against his knee. It hides away part his face but as your eyes adjust to the shadowy light, you can make out his closed eyes. His hair looks messier than you've ever seen it.
It can't be comfortable, sleeping the way he is— but you have a feeling that Azriel has slept in places far worse before.
Shifting about in the darkness, your hand comes down to press tenderly at your sides, assessing as quietly as you can. There's no immediate sting of sliced skin as your fingers tips poke and prod at the skin, which makes you sigh in relief. You press down again, at bit harder this time, and it forces a wince out your gritted teeth.
Extremely bruised. But at the very least, the skin has knitted itself together in the nighttime.
Your face still aches, too. It's not quite the same ringing that made both eyes throb painfully yesterday and with a slow wrinkle of your nose, you can assess that the worst of your broken nose has healed up too.
Your ears, however, poses a different problem. One of them, the right side, still rings lightly. It would be more concerning, you think, if the left one itself wasn't so muffled altogether.
Huffing out a breath, you drag yourself up to a sitting position, moving at a tentative pace. Pain ricochets around your body. You're doing the best you can to be quiet but it's futile it seems — there's one creak of the bed as your weight shifts and Azriel's wings twitch, giving him away. He’s awake.
He lifts his head slowly, letting it roll from one side to the next, stretching out his neck. It's the only indication he gives you of feeling sore from his cramped sleep all night, his attentive eyes already watching you closely. His shadows, you notice, seem to gain speed at his rousing— circling his shoulders and neck closely.
You clear your throat and focus your gaze forward, resuming the task at hand. Raising one hand, you snap your fingers beside your left ear, then your right.
Frustration bubbles up inside you as you repeat the motion, as if it’ll change the outcome.
It doesn’t.
At least beyond the ringing, your right ear can hear the snap clearly— a keen Fae sense that like any warrior, you rely heavily on. The left one…
All you can think is that they must have hit you pretty damn hard to leave it as dulled as it feels. It can still hear, thankfully, but the noise that filters through is muffled around the edges. Buzzy. It makes you feel off kilter and unbalanced.
You let your hand drop and try to remain stoic, so used to hiding your emotions away from your face. You don't realise your drooping, limp wings give you away anyways.
Azriel gets to his feet swiftly, the movement so smooth you would have never guessed he spent the night tucked up uncomfortably against the bricks of your fireplace. He regards you with those burning amber eyes and your heart seems to lurch forward in response. You avert your gaze.
"It would seem we have an opportunity to test out our efforts." He says. His voice is still coated in sleep, low and rumbley, and it sends a bright zing down your spine. You lift your gaze from your lap and raise your brows in question.
He waves a hand to the table, in gesture.
Your various ingredients for brewing the tonics stay tucked in one corner, some wrapped up and set beneath the table. There are several different bottles too, stoppered with corks and containing yours and Azriel's attempts at the healing tonics.
It takes another moment to understand what he means.
"No," You say sharply, climbing to your feet. A thousand parts of your ache and groan in protest and you channel your focus into not letting a single ounce of it show.
Rolling your tense shoulders back, you wander towards your armor in slow steady steps. "Those aren't for me. I've healed enough in the night."
"I see." Azriel replies. "Is that why your left ear isn't working right?"
Gaze snapping back to him, you curse his ever-so observant nature. Maybe that's on you for trying to keep a secret from a Shadowsinger.
You are keeping a secret from a shadowsinger, something whispers in you.
A cold flush fills your body, numbing out every nerve for a single moment. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your wings hike up, tuck in. It feels wrong.
For the first time in your life, it feels so so utterly wrong to be keeping this secret from someone. To be hiding who you truly are.
But Azriel... he was a stranger not too long ago, wasn't he? You're not sure if you can even call each other friends, even if you had begun to in your mind, without even realising.
You think back to last night, to when he could have easily lifted your shirt a few inches higher when trying to save your life and known.
Then you wonder if he did — and he hasn't said anything.
If he's waiting for you to trip up, to fess up, to explain to him why you've been lying to him from the moment you first met him.
Azriel seems to sense your internal battle, the same way he seems senses a thousand things from you as though he's known you his whole life. He clears his throat to get your attention. When you focus your vision back on him, you notice one of the bottles is in his scarred fingers.
"I will train you today," He says. "On the condition that you take it."
Your nose twitches. It's an ultimatum. He knows you want to train, to brush off yesterday and let the pain in your body fuel the determination of today but he won't let you do it so carelessly. Bastard.
Before you can blink, he tosses the bottle across to you. You react instinctively, cradling your hands to catch it quickly before you realise what you're doing. Your nose twitches again, a tiny flare of annoyance at his smugness.
No, not smugness. Surety. His expression, bordering on bored, tells you that he knows you don't have any other options— unless you want to climb back into bed and rot for the day.
You yank the cork off the bottle harshly. Then, just to show him how unpleased you are with this, you lob the cork at him with all your might. Your bruised side screams in response. Azriel snatches from the air easily, without so much as a blink.
He looks like he wants to smile but thinks the better of it, placing the cork gently onto the table. "I'll meet you outside." He eyes the uncorked bottle in your hand then back at you. "Drink it. Please."
The tonic, as you find out, is only mildly effective.
It's a gutting discovery. The mixture is nowhere near potent enough to fix the level of nerve damage that gets inflicted during clippings if it barely lightens the bruises on your side.
The mottled blue painted on your skin gives way to a light purple, the edges of them retracting to a tinged yellow. The skin glows hot as the tonic works as best as it can.
The taste of it is nearly as rancid as the failure feels.
You deal with it the only way you know how; chewing it up and spitting it back out as determination to do better. The drive to push yourself harder in training rears up, fiery and stubborn— harder than you logically know is any help to yourself.
What was already tedious and heinous training is made that much worse by your injuries.
You're moving sloppily today, offbeat. The dullness in your left ear helps to keep you off balance. Still, you manage to keep up with Azriel— not quite the one step ahead you're usually aiming for but, at the very least, you're still holding your own.
Your ribs ache and your heads throbs. The ringing in your right ear has disappeared with the help of the tonic, only to have started up in the left. A relief in one sense— it's good to be hearing more of anything. A fucking pain in another.
The only major upside, really, is the sword.
The Heartstriker, Azriel had called it
You had been half convinced it was a hallucination, the gift. Sure that it some desperate illusion born out of the delirium of the blood loss because, really, when was the last time you had ever gotten a gift?
When you'd limped your way out into the snow and saw it in his hands, you had blinked in disbelief.
But it's almost like Azriel had expected it, his scarred hands reaching out to gently curl around your wrist, murmuring its name as he had pressed it into your hand. It's yours, he had said.
He had let go of your wrist go immediately, stepping back but not far, still hovering close by. He let you have a moment to marvel at it before he urged you to follow to the usual neck of the woods you trained in. The sound of clashing steel had soon followed.
It's a perfect addition, you find.
The blade is like a mere extension of your own arm. It's light enough to carve through the air with ease but when you strike, it's buries deep. Compared the Illyrian broadsword used in training at camp, it suits your stature far better. You move more agilely, hit more frequently and harder when you do.
It's probably the best thing you've ever owned— ever held.
You're gazing at it where it rests on your lap, glinting in the light of the day, as you try to catch your breath. Azriel had given you a moment to recover, far earlier than normal, due to your injuries, no doubt. Normally, you'd grumble and snarl and push him to continue but today, you're quite happy to have another moment to stare at the first gift you've gotten.
Azriel breaks the silence with a question.
"Why haven't you competed in the Blood Rite?"
Something icy spikes in your blood and your back straightens instinctively, the hair on the nape of your neck standing on end. Whether he knows it or not, he is treading close to dangerous territory.
"Why do you ask?" You answer his question with another question.
Azriel regards you with a certain look, his dark eyes dragging down your body intensely and back up to your face. It's enough to make you fluster momentarily, to feel a faint stirring in your heart that doesn't entirely feel like your own. No one has ever looked at you like that before.
"You're strong. You hold your own. You're of age." He states carefully. "You remain attached to this camp with no rank until you pass it. Why not?"
You scowl at his frame of thinking, as if you haven't passed over those reasons a thousand times. Beyond the fact you can't ever ensure you wouldn't be burdened with your cycle during the Blood Rite, there's more than enough reason for you to remain a nobody.
You feel oddly disappointed that he would think only in that manner; glory and rank.
"What makes you think I want any rank in my camp?" You spit bitingly, watching as his wings sink down an inch at your tone. His misunderstanding of why you've chosen this way of life bothers you more than you expect.
"Because you did?" You ask. "Because three bastards fought their way through it and won and left their shitty pasts behind? I am not you, Azriel."
Azriel doesn't react, not even the raising of his brows. Only his shadows give himself away, whirling around slower than usual. He speaks in that same careful tone as before.
"I know you are not."
He makes you feel foolish for giving in to any lick of your anger, for so quickly snapping at your only friend. You turn your head away and stare down into the snow, taking a breath. Cauldron, you're tired. Lifting you arm, you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, clearing the sweat that beads there.
"I could leave but for what reason? Ever since I—" You suck a sharp inhale, swallowing back words that dance too close to giving you away. You pray he doesn't notice your hesitation. "Ever since I was young, this has been my goal. This change must come from within, you know that."
You inhale again, feeling the breath rattle past every ache and pain in your chest.
"I can only do the things I do... the things I must achieve, by being unnoticeable."
You cast a glance up to him. "To them, I am some bastard who won't give up and die. I am not a proper threat. You, of all people, should understand that it's easiest to work when people are not paying proper attention."
And that's all you have known — how to become unnoticeable when needed and how to be noticed when wanted. Attention, you've learned, only means a target on your back.
Beyond that... you can't imagine someone who would want to notice you for anything more. You've had many, many years to make peace with that bitter fact.
I am.
Without warning, there's a sudden thrum from deep within you, like a echo of a drum, of a call. It's golden and threaded with softness. I am paying attention.
It startles you, one hand flying to your armored chest in surprise. As quick as it had appeared, the hum flees and leaves your bound chest twingeing only in its usual discomfort. One moment of brief serenity. You long for it, despite the unfamiliar nature.
You realise abruptly that you've trailed off and force yourself to move, body aching in the process. Heartstriker sinks into the snow and you use it to clamber to your feet, not nearly as graceful as you would like. Azriel doesn't say anything.
In fact, when you lift your gaze to meet his, he's staring at you more intensely than usual. His shadows seem more agitated. They flit about, circling his hands more than his shoulders, and you can barely see the scarred skin through their inky darkness.
There's a long moment. Around you both, the trees creek as they bend in the wind, a thousand leaves rustling around you in a chorus.
Azriel breaks the silence, casting his eyes to the ground and lifting his blade. "No more questions."
He says it like a promise, his lips pulling at the edges like he might be offering a smile.
"Just fighting."
By the time the moon rises, the ache in your body has dimmed to a more bearable pain.
While you'd be miffed at the idea of Azriel pulling his punches, you can't deny the sliver of gratitude you have for it now. As you reach over the cauldron of simmering stew, only a few of your ribs twinge enough to make your motions falter momentarily. The stew bubbles and brews, filling your shelter with a hearty smell.
It's been too long since you last cooked something to share.
You try to shelve the guilt away—you and Azriel have been running a very tight schedule, switching between training, tonics and rest. Taking time to cook, for yourself or others, hasn't even had time to cross your mind.
Your brief brush back with the reality during yesterday's training, however, had provided you with ample reminders. Your home camp and all its violent glory.
So, you cook. The logs crackle on the fire and above them, the stew simmers gently as you stir absentmindedly at it. Giving yourself this quiet moment, you let your thoughts drift as the tiredness of the day trickles into your body. Your thoughts turn to the quiet Shadowsinger.
He had taken his leave as soon as he had declared the end of your days training, needing another trip to Velaris.
I'll be back by morning, he had said, each of his seven cerulean siphons flaring brightly before he stepped between the fabric of the world and disappeared. Another hidden trick up his sleeve.
You'd allowed yourself only one moment of surprise before you closed your mouth— you really needed to stop underestimating him. As the stew before you begins to hiss and spit, you pull yourself from your thoughts and prepare yourself for the discomfort of meal times.
They never are as friendly as you might hope.
Despite your generosity, the different outcasts of Exordor remain cagey. Regard you with pensive and guarded looks, hands hovering on the butts of their swords. You can't blame them in the slightest.
But those that can brave the walk to your cabin, risking both themselves and your own safety against the other Illyrian brutes in the camp, are rewarded with a hot meal. Tonight, you feed 12 hungry mouths before your doorstep grows quiet.
You pack it all away in silence, with a quite yearning for company you've only just become used to having.
It's only as you're tucking in for the night, your wings wrapped around yourself tightly, does the first pain strike. Right to your core, the very insides of your gut feels as though it's being shredded. You gasp, your entire body curling up tighter to fight against the pain.
For only a moment, confusion clouds your mind at the attack that seems to come from nowhere, from an invisible enemy. Only one answer comes forward—the only thing that can threaten to reveal your secret without your permission, through mere scent alone.
A certain agony that only tortures you twice a year.
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liveontelevision · 5 days
Note
Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.
You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas
I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.
Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡
Honey | Lucifer x Reader
No smut, just some cute fluff here-
♡♡♡
As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.
Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.
Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.
"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.
"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.
"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.
"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.
"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.
“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.
The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.
You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.
As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece. 
"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.
"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.
"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that. 
"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.
"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.
"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.
Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.
"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.
"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.
"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.
"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.
The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.
As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.
You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.
It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.
It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.
"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.
There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.
"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.
"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.
"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.
Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.
Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).
This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.
Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone. 
"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.
"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.
“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.
“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.
With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.
"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.
“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.
"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.
"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?
"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.
You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.
Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 
"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.
"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.
"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.
“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.
“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.
“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.
The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat. 
"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.
"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?
"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.
"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.
"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.
"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.
"Of course I don't.." He muttered.
"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.
"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.
You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.
"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.
“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies. 
“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.
“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.
With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.
“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess. 
Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.
"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.
"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.
"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.
"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.
♡♡♡
I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends
!Taglist!
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twistedinthreads · 2 months
Text
Lost In The Labyrinth
Part 1.
You came to Oxford to get away from America; from your mother's fame and the ghosts of your past. You get more than you bargained for when you meet Felix.
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: sexual content (not explicit but it's there so 18+ MINORS DNI), I used some descriptors for reader such as scars, birthmarks, imperfections, but I made her as inclusive as possible, reader is American, she's also a nepo baby but isn't using her nepotism in any real way. Bi!reader and Felix. fic title inspired by the taylor swift song, of course (and I am terrible at titles!)
Playlist (a work in progress!)
A/N: I am so insecure about this reading back over it omgggg but I'm posting it anyway! Hi friends. I've been working on this for so long, and I'm recovering from my surgery so I figured there's no time like the present. Here we are. I am obsessed with this movie and this man! I promise this fic is gonna get more interesting, but we've got this for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, and feel free to send me asks if you want to talk about reader and her lore, because she is very special to me and I adore her already!!!
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Your eyes droop as you hum along to the nameless blonde that stands in front of you, her sparkly pink cocktail dress catching the light and making her glow. She’s going on and on about how Everlasting Eve is her favorite movie of all time, and how your mother is “the greatest actress of our time!” You want to vomit. It’s not like this doesn’t happen, it’s practically a daily occurrence at this point, but you’d much prefer it if people stopped giving so much of a shit. If they did, you wouldn’t be stood with a bottle blonde from Bristol talking your ear off. You’d just stepped out to get some air, for Christ’s sake. 
“You’re from the States, right?” You nod, sipping at your cocktail and bouncing from one foot to the other to conserve some warmth in your legs. She asks it as if she hasn’t been talking your ear off and didn’t notice your accent, not as thick as it used to be when you’d lived in New York full time, but still foreign here. The music is less obnoxious out here, bass easing on your chest. It’s cooler, too, the fall night air brushing against your neck like a lover. “That’s brilliant! I went with my parents once, when I was a kid. We went to Disney World.” 
You smile and nod, muttering out a “cool” as you sip at your drink, cringing at its strength. 
“Is that far from where you live?” She asks, and you wonder how she got into this fucking school. Probably a legacy, with more money than she knows what to do with.
“Uh,” you suppress a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, like… incredibly South of New York.” 
“I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” she continues to babble. “My parents go on business trips there, but they’ve never taken me. I want to see where Little Angels was filmed! Uh, Lincoln Square Park?”
“Washington Square Park,” you correct her. 
“Yeah!” She snaps her fingers and points. “That’s it! When your mom’s character is waiting there for Hugh Grant’s character, and then they walk off into the sunset together? Absolutely the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”
You stare off into the distance vacantly, the night sky painted with different navy hues and dotted with the brushstrokes of stars. 
Suddenly, you feel a warm arm around your waist, hot breath on your cheek. “There you are!” You’d know that voice anywhere. The figure kisses you on the cheek and it takes everything in you not to start grinning from ear to ear. You turn, meeting his lips, and he plays along like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I’m gonna head home, wanna come with?”
You nod, thanking him with your eyes. He winks gently at you and grabs your hand. “Nice talking to you…” you’ve already forgotten her name. Her tone has completely shifted, body stiff as her eyes mull over you and the man that holds your hand with a vice grip. 
“Sandra.” It’s cold, but you keep your own voice chipper. 
“Sandra! Nice to meet you,” she’s in your college, so you’ll have to be cordial. “See you around?”
She just nods and lights a cigarette. 
As you walk away, one of Felix’s hands around your waist and the other holding your own, you look up at him. “Thank you so much. Holy shit. I was about to lose it.”
He lets out a low, intoxicated chuckle. “It’s what I’m here for, darling.” Uses his fingers on your chin, tugging lightly to kiss you hard on the mouth. He pulls away and you chase his lips, planting one more kiss on his mouth, this time softer. 
“Your room or mine?” You ask, to be met with a smirk as he grabs your hand and leads you across campus. It’s a path you could walk with your eyes closed, the muscle memory of so many nights embedded into your body by now. 
His room is all red carpet and wood paneling, empty takeout containers and beer cans and ashtrays strewn about. His bed is unmade and his textbooks are all over his floor, but it hardly matters when he’s kissing you like you’re the only person in the fucking universe. 
Within minutes, you settle back into a familiar routine. Clothes shed, completely bare to one another as you grind and writhe on top of him, hands on his toned chest. He’s gorgeous with his mouth open in ecstasy, labored breaths escaping it, eyes closed and clenched, hands rested on your waist as you move above him, a renaissance painting. You’re moaning too, tempering your whines so that the sounds don’t travel. The moon paints the room in subtle, cool light and the pleasure makes sweat bead on your brows.
“Missed you,” he manages between moans, voice heavy and breathy. “Missed this.” 
“It’s been like, two days,” you let out a chuckle, and it fades into a moan as you grind your hips again, trying not to scratch his chest with your manicured nails, though you doubt he'd mind too much.
“And that’s too long,” he replies, and you lean down and kiss him, open mouthed and messy and euphoric. 
When it’s all said and done, you lay naked beside him while he smokes a cigarette, arm laced around your bare shoulder, your head rested on his. It’s bliss, something you’ve begun to ache for all the time. “Really, thank you. That girl was driving me fucking insane.”
“That scene where your mom’s character and Hugh Grant ride off into the sunset together? Immaculate.” He mocks the girl, a surprisingly good impersonation, and you both belly laugh. You wipe away bits of red lipstick from his mouth and grin delicately at him. You know you’re not the only girl he’s seeing, not even the only girl he’s fucking, and it wedges something vile and dangerous in your heart. The words linger on your tongue. You want to ask, want to know, and if you sound desperate? Well, so be it. 
“What is this?” You wrench the words out quickly, looking at your hands. 
“What do you mean?” He takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smell perforate the air in the room, turning it cloudy in its wake. 
“Us,” you murmur, and he runs a hand through your hair. “Like… I know you’re fucking other people, Felix. And that’s fine but… I just want to be clear on what this.” 
He looks at you perplexed, smashing the cigarette in the ash tray and turning on his side toward you. You mirror his motions, so the two of you are laying in bed, you practically on top of him due to its size, your hands under your cheek. “I’m fucking other girls? News to me.” 
“I see the way you look at them,” you murmur. “India. Annabel. That guy you study with sometimes… Ryan?”
“I’m not fucking anyone else,” he mutters, seeming almost offended at the notion. He scoffs before his next words. “I practically haven’t even looked at anyone else.”
“Fe-“ he cuts you off, a hand brushing over your cheek, holding it delicately. 
“No,” he starts. “I know I have a reputation or whatever,” he waves his free hand around. “But I genuinely haven’t been seeing anyone else since we started… this.” He gestures between the two of you, and you can sense that he's lying, but it hardly matters. 
You’re almost self-conscious as his eyes rake over your body; so self aware of every little imperfection, every feature. The birthmark on your hip. The way one tit is just a bit bigger than the other. Your crooked finger from when you broke it playing volleyball in ninth grade. The gray hairs you’d been noticing popping up recently. 
“You’re the prettiest fucking girl at this college,” he says your name before kissing you sweetly. “Don’t want to look at anyone else.” You know it’s a lie, considering the fact that he does look at other girls, and often. It’s almost like you can’t bother to care, though. Your head is all floaty and tears are burning your eyes. 
He climbs on top of you, kisses down your chest, down your stomach, makes sure to take his time kissing that same birthmark you were so insecure about minutes before, your inner thighs, before finally landing where it matters most. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful, yeah?” He looks up at you with those gorgeous eyes, the earnestness in them making your heart swell up. In this moment, it’s not the same Felix that made you cry last week because he told you you needed to get your own friends (you have plenty), or the Felix that ignored you at the pub to talk to Annabel, causing you to storm out and ignore him for three days until he realized. 
Sometimes, he doesn’t care if you come, and he doesn’t clean up after himself, and sometimes his words bite, and last week he made that insensitive comment about your friend with depression. But you think you might love him, and it feels like enough. 
After, he asks you to stay with him. You laugh languidly, tears brimming at your eyes from how hard. He kisses you, soft and slow, the moonlight seeping into the window and painting the carpet with light; it looks like a lone puddle of blood in a sea of blackness. 
When you wake, it’s nearly noon. The sun beams through the curtains and you shield your eyes, trying to move underneath Felix’s strong grip. He’s got a hand wrapped around your thigh. Your leg wrapped around his waist while your arms are, slightly pained from the uncomfortable angle, folded around his neck. You regret moving your face from its spot in his chest, wanting nothing more than to occupy his space for as long as possible. 
You can’t bear to wake him, his eyelashes fluttering ever-so-slightly against his face. You smile, tuck yourself back into him, and feel his breaths come out relaxed and steady. The tranquility doesn’t last long, though, and you watch as his eyes flicker open. “Good morning,” his voice is raspy, his saccharine accent accentuating every word with posh sweetness. He kisses your cheek and gets up, your eyes meeting his bare ass. “I should go shower, you cool to stay here?” He asks as he gathers his things. 
“I need to go,” you also get up, searching around for your undergarments and your uncomfortable cocktail dress, pulling the blue, beaded garment on without much care. “Sundays are study days with June.”
You slip your uncomfortable heels on, wincing at the blister you’d developed last night but didn’t notice until now, and kiss him on the cheek as you leave his dorm. 
The trek across campus has you nearly limping in pain, as you kick your shoes off the second you make it into your room. You gather your shower gear, thankful for your own bathroom and the warmth of a long, hot shower. It’s almost painful to wash his scent off of you, but you know you’ll be seeing him again soon, and let your floral body wash cleanse you and your sore form. 
Before you get dressed, you grab antibiotic cream and bandaids from a drawer and tend to your blisters, throwing on a pair of slip-ons to avoid even more pain. 
And as you go to study with June, your mind is far from Shakespeare; it rests only on Felix, Felix, Felix. 
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Hello, I hope you two are doing well! May I request “Orange Rose - experiencing constant as well as distracting thoughts of the other person” for Riddle? tysm I’ve been realizing how wonderful he is recently🥰🥰
Riddle Rosehearts:
Orange Rose - experiencing constant as well as distracting thoughts of the other person.
Riddle had never been more mortified in his life.
He felt like the blood had completely drained from his face, the red mark on his paper almost dashing his hopes of having a good day. To achieve a perfect score on his tests was everything; he didn’t believe himself to be the exact perfect being but he had studied for this, countless hours of memorizing to the point he knew the material like the back of his hand. This was a subject he excelled in (most were, but he enjoyed this one the most) and yet he was confronted with cold hard failure, the likes of which he had never seen.
Not just one point from perfection, but two entire points, a whole question with two parts answered incorrectly. He looked over his test countless times, reading through his text books to find where he might’ve strayed, before finally approaching his professor.
“Is everything okay, Riddle? You aren’t pushing yourself, are you?” He always pushed himself, but that wasn’t the point! He could handle pressure, he could handle a metric ton of work being thrown his way as well as countless responsibilities pushed on his shoulders, but this grade – it was a negative mark on his record, his future.
When he saw that question he knew exactly what had distracted him, the reason he had gotten the answer incorrect. You had been his partner for that particular project, spending hours of alone time as you did your research together. You were diligent but you had asked Riddle for guidance, knowing he was a person who was very specific about the way his ideas were presented, and he had been happy to help you figure out the best way to present your own ideas in your project. It hadn’t been all work, with some talk of desserts and his equestrian club mixed in, but Riddle had found himself enjoying that time spent together.
In fact he missed it, since the project had ended and there was no excuse to ask you to spend time with him any longer.
He knew he had gotten caught up in those thoughts, fumbling through the question quickly as he realized the ‘you’ in his head was distracting him. He wrote as fast as he could and in doing so had missed a specific word choice used in the question which entirely changed the meaning of it. He was used to dealing with tricks and being wary of language, his mother had taught him about the little details of linguistics, so he never would’ve missed it if he was in his right mind.
Riddle can’t hide his sour mood but thankfully, most of Heartslabyul stayed out of his way when they sensed something was wrong. He had never been more grateful to have an unapproachable resting face, wanting to simply lock himself away (though he could not, as there were still duties to attend and other students to look out for). When he finally had time to settle himself down he took out the test one last time, working himself up again about the less than perfect grade.
“Whoa!” Cater, who had innocently peered over Riddle’s shoulder to see what he was glaring at, was just as shocked as Riddle had been earlier than evening. “S-Sorry, I was just coming to let you know Trey is looking for you…”
“Hey, Riddle. Trein was asking me about you earlier—” Trey, the third musketeer and the straw that finally broke the camels back, came into the room a few seconds later, pausing when he saw Riddle’s clenched fist. He and Cater locked eyes, with Cater holding his hands up to signal he certainly wasn’t the reason Riddle was upset.
Neither third year knows what to say when they see the grade, and Riddle sighed, wishing to just be done with it. He moved the paper toward Trey who scrutinized it, reading the question, Riddle’s answer, before his eyes slowly drifted back to Riddle himself.
“This question… is quite simple for someone like you.” Cater felt like his lungs had collapsed, wondering how Trey had continued to exist if he was always so honest with Riddle. “Is there something on your mind?”
“I’m…not sure.” The fact he hadn’t exploded in that moment left Cater even more shocked, and he had to lean on a chair to keep his legs from folding underneath him. “I don’t believe I want to talk about it.”
“Maybe you should!” Cater tried to offer up helpfully, “You never know, maybe having a different angle can help clear your thoughts!”
“Exactly.” Trey agreed, pleased that Cater had backed him up. “Talk to us, and we’ll see if we can help.”
Riddle muttered your name once and it took the willpower of a thousand card soldiers to stop both Trey and Cater from laughing in shock at the admission. Trey had really thought Riddle would never spit it out but it seemed his own honest reaction had rubbed off on him, while Cater was still struggling to imagine Riddle with a crush.
Trey had never seen Riddle struggle to find words like he was now, his eyes downcast as he spoke quietly about the time you had spent together. Riddle had fun when you were together, fun, a word that he didn’t often use nor did he generally have the same definition as everyone else. To think that you evoked this kind of reaction from him, to the point he was dwelling on the time spent together and lamenting on how it had ceased was nothing short of a miracle in Trey’s eyes. He doesn’t voice it but he does believe this is the first crush Riddle has ever had, not remembering a single moment from their childhood where Riddle expressed interest like that in anyone.
“There doesn’t have to be a reason to hang, you know, but here we have unbirthday parties all the time! Why not try inviting them to one of those?” Riddle seemed to contemplate this, as it was something within his power. He would have to double check that none of the students had a birthday the following day, but if he played his cards right…
“Understood. Thank you for your advice.” Riddle stood without another word, exiting the room with his test in hand while Trey and Cater shared a look.
“Hopefully everything goes smoothly…”
“We should warn the first years. I have a feeling if anything goes wrong, the punishment might be worse than usual.”
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saffronwritesstuff · 2 months
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐲
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Summary: When your slight gift of prophesy shows you an ugly future you’re faced with an impossible choice;kill the man you love or watch your world burn. Which will you choose?
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader (gn! I think)
W/C: 3.12k
Genre: Fluff + Angst
Warnings: blood? A little violence✨ Luke might be ooc. Lack of capitalization.
A/N: HI EVERYONE! Welcome to my debut fic! I hope you all like it! Please lmk your thoughts if you don’t mind! I’d love to know how I did🫶
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As a child of Apollo you’d been both blessed,and cursed, with the gift to see a few minutes,hours,days or weeks into a person’s future just by touching them .you never knew which it was,just that it was their future. And from an early age,you'd learned to keep it a secret from your peers,claiming that you knew the questions on the pop quiz only because you'd done them on some quiz website and such. But the moment you'd come to Camp Half Blood and been claimed by the God of prophecy himself,it’d been harder to conceal your ability.Especially when the futures you'd seen weren’t particularly pleasant. There’d been multiple occasions where you’d bump shoulders with an unsuspecting ares kid only to see yourself and your team getting your asses absolutely hands to you in capture the flag.But Luckily you hadn’t seen anything life threatening yet.No deaths,No fatal injuries.Just Little (not so) Fun Facts About The Future.
But all your secret keeping had come to an end the moment you'd met Luke Castellan. Both you and the brown (blue) eyed son of Hermes had come to camp at around the same time and while spending time in the Hermes cabin,waiting to be claimed,you’d forged a strong friendship.Both you and he had come from similar backgrounds,what with your mother being a raging alchoholic and his being schizophrenic. You bonded over the experiences of having an unreliable parental figure and having to raise youselves.However the way in which your stories diverged was that while he ran away from home,you’d been kicked out for being a ‘leach on your mother’s resources’ you’d gladly left and although you struggled to survive alone,you had found your way to Camp with the help of a satyr who also became your close friend.
The day you’d been claimed was both the worst and best day of your life,You’d hit a bullseye on a moving target on your first try during archery practice and Luke has pointed to the glowing lyre floating above your head.The other kids of the Apollo cabin who’d been close enough to witness the event ran over to hug you and welcome you to your,rather extensive,family.You’d Moved your things the very same night and while you now spent a little more time with your half-siblings,you and Luke still spent your free time together,you shared your dreams and aspirations witrh each other,his being to go on a quest to prove himself to his father,Hermes, and yours being to be a world class archer.As weeks became months and months became years,the two of you grew closer and closer.
He eventually confessed to you after you’d just beaten him in one of your sparring sessions. At first you thought he was joking,but the longer you watched the look of slight hope in his eyes,you knew it wasn’t in fact a joke.You dropped your sword and helped him up,all the while watching as he seemed to deflate at the fact that you’d blatantly ignored his confession.You turned to leave and just when Luke has started making his way after you,you tackled him to the ground and kissed him saying, “look ya long enough scar”
you’d started calling him by that particular nickname after you’d both watched the lion king 2 together. You had remarked how you found kovu’s scar kinda hot. At the time he’d asked you if you found him hot for his scar and you merely shrugged it off,hitting him with the remote and it’d just become a sort of an inside joke. But you were the only one he ever let bring up the little trophy he’d earned on his quest,anyone else who even tried to comment on his scar only ever got a glare,which said enough about how he felt about it.
After you accepted his confession the two of you basically became the power couple of the camp,the best swordsman and the best archer,a deadly combo on the field and an adorable couple on the daily.
But the day a kid called percy Jackson had come to camp,you’d begun to see a subtle change in Luke’s behavior. Sure,to the untrained and unassuming eye,he seemed to be himself,just plain ‘ol friendly Hermes cabin counsellor Luke Castellan.But you noticed how he seemed to be just a little more jumpy,a little…scared? You were worried to say the least,but you didn’t really say anything.Your mind went to your ability…could you use it to see what was bothered him? “no…seeing his future probably wont tell me jack…” you’d told yourself while sitting in your usual spot under a tree near the strawberry fields.You were re-reading your copy of the odyssey,a present from Luke for your 1 year anniversary,how he’d gotten it,well you didn’t need to know. As you waited for him,the seconds turned to minutes and the sun had begun to set.Tonight was capture the flag and you figured he was just telling the new kid how it was all going to go down. So, closing your book you walked back to your cabin to get ready.
After you were fully decked out in your armor,you headed down to the pavilion and took your place beside Luke,ruffling Annabeth’s hair and saying hello to Percy in the process.Luke bent down to give you a kiss on the cheek,causing you to turn a slight shade of red, before placing his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. Thank the gods the Apollo and Hermes cabins had allied themselves with eachother this time,you hated having to fight against Luke although that didn’t mean you held back when you found him to be your opponent. As Chiron was explaining the rules you looked over to Percy, he looked a little nervous and you reassured him that he might not get that badly hurt,though you could make no promises. The game started and you and Luke took off in the direction of what you thought was the Ares flag. You wove through the forest,trying not to make a sound. And when you finally found the flag you silently disarmed the flag bearer using an arrow while Luke rushed in to grab the flag.You hi-fived eachother and sprinted back in the direction of friendly territory. As you followed luke,you were suddenly tackled by a burly Hephaestus kid.Luke turned to defend you but you stopped him. “GO! I’ll be fine!” He hesitated but nodded and kept on running. Jumping to your feet you pulled out your dagger and expertly fought your opponent,using your ability and hoping on your father that it showed you the kid’s upcoming moves and not his future life.Luckily,it worked and you were able to predict his attacks and push him to the ground. You silently thanked your father before turning and running in the direction in which you’d seen Luke go.
Upon your arrival you heard your team’s ruckus cheers. You all celebrated and when you turned to Luke to give him a sweet victory kiss,you were stopped by a loud howl ripping through the sounds of celebration . And suddenly,you were all firing arrows at a hellhound. “How’d that get in here!” you called over to your half-siblings who all shrugged and kept firing arrow after arrow. Eventually the hound fell dead but Percy was badly wounded,Luke was at his side in an instant and with him so were you. You watched as percy stepped back into the creek and his wounds just vanished. “there’s no way…” you said,your voice trailing off. You looked over to your boyfriend to see him looking just as surprised as you felt, “looks like there is.” He said. And when you turned back over to percy,sure enough there was a smokey green trident floating above his head. Chiron came forward and said aloud what you had all been suspecting,after which you all knelt before Percy Jackson;the Son of Poseidon.
After that day Luke seemed to be overly nervous.he fidgeted more and his mind drifted off more often,sure these were signs of his ADHD,hell you had them too,but something felt wrong.
When Percy,Annabeth and Grover got sent on their quest you and Luke sent them off,him giving Percy the winged converse his dad had given him,and you some extra mortal cash for their journey. You then sent them off with wishes of good luck and safe travels .
After that your lives just went back to normal.
One day,while under the tree in your regular spot,your head resting on Luke’s shoulder,you asked him the question that’d been running through your head for the past few days. “Hey Luke?” you began, he hummed in acknowledgement and you took it as your sign to go ahead. “has anything been bothering you lately?you've been kinda scattered…more than usual actually” at this he suddenly went stiff before relaxing and replying, “just stressed these days love,that’s it”
“wanna talk about it? You know I’m here for you if you need to talk right?”
“I know…it’s just that…ive been having nightmares again”
You sat up straight at this and looked him in the eye,concern painted all over your face
“again?? When did it start? What are they about? Are you okay? Are you in danger? Can I help???” you let the stream of questions leave your lips before you even had a second to process them.
He let out a little laugh,a sad look suddenly coming over his eyes. “don’t worry y/n,nothing I can't handle. '' he joked,squeezing your hand. You weren’t buying it.
“Come on Luke.you can tell me…” you cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes,searching for a clearer reason for his pain.
He placed his hand over yours and leaned into your touch,kissing your palm.
He sighed,“can we talk about this later? Please? ” he sounded pained but you gave him the space he needed. You trusted Luke with your life;you trusted him to tell you the truth “sure” you said.
When he was ready,you’d be there for him not matter what.
A few days later when you were sparring together he got an iris message from Annabeth,Percy and Grover, he accepted and you both said hi to the trio of kids they told him of their adventures and how they knew who the lightning thief was. At the sudden mention of that last fact,you saw him go slightly pale.Not much,but you noticed. You stayed silent watching their exchange,and when percy said it was Ares,Luke visibly deflated. ‘no…’ was all you could think. There was no way Luke had anything to do with Zeus’ Master-bolt going missing…you simply refused to believe it. Suddenly you couldn’t breathe and your head was spinning. It was suddenly hard to breathe and that’s when you noticed Luke was at your side,his hand on you back propping you up and asking you to lie down,asking you if you were okay and what happened.You just rushed to wrap your arms around him .You held onto him for dear life and started sobbing.he hugged you back but pulled away when he noticed you were crying. “hey..hey are you okay?? What happened? What did I say?” and for the first time you did it. You used your ability on Luke and what you saw confirmed your suspicions.
You saw him setting a pit scorpion on Percy. Admitting to stealing the bolt,admitting to summoning the hellhound.you saw him leaving Camp Half-Blood behind.You saw it all.
In that moment you knew that you should let him go. Push him away and kill him for being such a traitor not only to you but to the entirety of camp. But you just held him closer,tighter,impossibly so. You didn’t want to believe it.Your Luke,the only true family you had other than your Apollo siblings. The man you loved,was a traitor. But you said nothing. You put on a brave face and spent the next days with him as though nothing was wrong.you
You savoured the next few days,went on picnics,sparred together and when he inevitably asked you if you were okay, you just told him you hadn’t slept well.He dropped the subject pretty quickly. And when the night of his betrayal came,you were ready. You left your siblings to practice and made your way to where you knew he’d try to leave from. And sure enough he came running out of the forest with a sword different to the ones you'd seen in the armoury and the forges. This one was two-toned,one side seeming to be steel and the other the celestial bronze you knew well. The moment Luke saw you he looked almost relieved,but when he saw the arrow you had drawn,his smile quickly faded. “y/n,” he chuckled, “wha-what are you doing?” you kept a straight face,tears beginning to well up in your eyes.
“how could you luke! How could you betray us! Betray me?!” you choked through your tears and his face went completely blank.
“you don’t want to do this y/n..just put the arrow down and we can talk about this”
“like hell we can! I’m not letting you set a pit scorpion on me too!”
He looked almost hurt as you said those last words but he just sheathed his sword and held his hand out for you to take.
“come on y/n.do you really want to be a slave to the gods forever? They don’t even care about us.Join me.Join me, and Kronos will let us rule the new world together.we can make our parents pay for abandoning us,we can get justice”
You looked at his outstretched hand,it looked so tempting .You wanted nothing more than to drop your weapons and run to him. To say yes and rule the world with him.You didn’t care about the gods and about this world,all it had ever done was hurt you and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to see Olympus burn sometimes,but you caught yourself . Just as you began lowering your bow,you remembered your siblings.your friends at camp.what would happen to them? Would they just be casualties to him? Would Luke spare them on your request?
You were many things but a traitor was not one them.
You dropped your bow to which luke smiled and made his way to you. He wrapped you in a warm hug and for a second you felt like everything was good in the world. You hugged him back,tight. “I love you” you said, giving him a teary kiss,which he returned.
Then,as quick as you could you unsheathed your dagger and stabbed him.
he grunted in pain as he was hit with the sudden realization of what you’d done. He staggered back,blood beginning to stain his shirt. You began to cry out. You didn’t want to do this. It felt like you'd been stabbed yourself and that’s when you looked down to see he was holding out his blade as well,and it’d cut you in your side,deeper than you’d gotten him.You fell to your knees and when you lifted your head,he was gone.You lay there on the grass,bleeding and crying.you shouted for help as loud as you could before your vision grew blurry and you passed out.
When you woke up you were met with the sight of the infirmary’s ceiling.
You tried to sit up but the searing pain in your side kept you down. You groaned in pain before turning your head to the patient in the bed next to you. It was Percy and he was passed out cold.
All you could manage was a strained,“Percy…” before a firm hand held you down.
“Rest.” You heard the familiar voice of one of your half-brothers,Tom.
“What happened?” you whispered out,but it was just loud enough.
“Luke happened. He set a pit scorpion on Percy and then he stabbed you” he said softly. He must have known how it’d affect you.
At this information you began to tear up again. “so it wasn’t just a bad nightmare?” you asked. Tom sighed before replying. “unfortunately not…” he squeezed your hand and asked you to rest.
You fell back asleep sobbing.
In your dreams you found yourself standing in a shallow pool of water,luke was standin in the distance and you,without thinking,just ran to him. You wrapped him in a hug and he did the same. You looked up to him with tear stained cheeks and teary eyes and kissed him. “Im sorry” you choked out.
He kissed you back before placing another kiss to the top of your head. “I know y/n…I am too”
“Will I ever see you again?”
“yes…”
“but we’ll be on,”
“on opposing sides…yeah”
you both sighed and just stood there,holding each other.
“Then this is goodbye isn’t it” you said this time more clearly,you were finally beginning to believe how real this all was.
“it is…good bye y/n. oh and, I love you,please rememeber that.”
you nodded and with that your dream faded to black and you woke in the infirmary once again.
Everything had changed so fast,but the one thing you were sure of was simple. There was a war coming. And you had to be ready to fight the love of your life.
You had to kill Luke castellan.
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untitled-tmnt-blog · 3 months
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Summary of Cartoon Base's Q&A with Ron Corcillo
(Feb 10, 2024)
This is VERY long, so putting it under the cut!
Apocalyptic Future
We don't know how Donnie and Raph died specifically, but it was in combat against the Krang.
The turtles were leaders of the resistance and obviously went through some serious trauma. We don't really know how that affected them emotionally. It might be interesting to do a series that explored that timeline at some point.
Leo was the best ninja fighter. Once Raph and Donnie were gone, he was also the leader of the resistance. He also had a special affinity for Casey. He may have felt particularly responsible for Casey once his mother was gone.
Mikey probably could have communicated with Raph/Donnie/Splinter in the same way they could communicate with Karai, even though we didn't get the chance to see it.
The turtles wouldn't have had time for having their own kids or starting families. They were too busy fighting the krang, and the world was too dangerous for raising children.
They couldn't work out everyone's timelines in the bad future, but presumably, Big Mama's assistant would have joined the resistance, because what else could you do? She would have to have adopted her brothers as allies.
Mikey is definitely less cheerful and more wise, but he still ultimately has faith in the goodness of people and the world. Some things, you just can't change.
The turtles are in their early 40's, but the war has taken a toll.
Characters
Splinter spent a lot of time in the Hidden City, so he knows about more mystic things than we realize. He's developed those skills (i.e. using Leo's odachi to make a portal on the first try), but they've been dormant for a while.
Donnie can temporarily create items with his powers like the ones we see in the movie, but to make a tangible item that would last, he's have to build it physically the way he would with any of his tech.
Leo probably had the hardest time accepting Draxum, since he is the most skeptical. Mikey is the one who accepts Draxum the most easily. But they did have episodes planned where Leo and Draxum work together, so Leo would have gotten over it as well.
They had never worked out a name for the second turtle sister (the first possibly being named after Frida Kahlo), but would have chosen another female artist to name her after. Maybe Camille, after Camille Claudel.
The planned sisters would be roughly the same age as the turtles, so also teenagers. The only existing designs are what we saw on screen. They had never settled on colors for them.
CJ and present Leo is kind of a weird dynamic, when you think about it. Casey still couldn't help but see Leo as a father figure, but it must be a little different when you're roughly the same age.
Leo keeps whatever he wants in the little bags he has attached to his belt. Snacks, candy, fidget toys, body spray - this is Leo, after all.
Splinter had never celebrated the turtles birthdays in the past, because he was so depressed about his own mutation. But going forward, now that he's come to grips with who he really is, he would start to celebrate that day.
A meeting between Cassandra and Casey Junior would be incredibly heartfelt. Break out the tissues.
They thought about bringing Piebald back in Man vs. Sewer, but it didn't work out. She's definitely still out there in the sewers, so there would be plenty of opportunity for the turtles to interact with her again.
Following the movie, the most serious repercussions would be to Raph mentally. He would still be carrying some of that krang mentality. He might even occasionally pick up on thoughts of the krang. It would almost be like he had some form of ptsd.
A lot of Draxum's softening only comes from after his horrible experience of having his life force sucked away by the dark armor. He may have never seen the error of his ways without an experience like that. So, if the boys had never been taken by Splinter, he probably would have gone through with his plan to make them into weapons.
Splinter would have understood that Casey Jr became a soldier because he had to, and wouldn't have a problem with that. He would view Casey Jr as a nephew or grandson. They're all used to thinking of people as family even if they're not exactly related.
As far as mystic abilities, Mikey is definitely the most powerful. Donnie and Raph both seem to have pretty strong powers too, maybe Donnie a little more so. Leo is the one who relies the least on mystic power and the most on his physical and mental skills.
Donnie definitely seems to embrace the mystic power at the end of season 2 and in the movie. Ultimately, he would find ways to combine it with his tech for supreme power-ups.
April is 18 and the turtles are 16-18. Casey Jr is around late teens or 20.
Rise Lore
Given that the first krang that came to earth crashed into the Crying Titan, there must have been some form of historic yokai/hidden city even before the empyrean was around to introduce mystic powers. After all, someone must have built the Crying Titan. Maybe it was built by some other race that actually predates the yokai, and the yokai evolved from that race, affected by the emperyan.
There are definitely still krang out there, and most of the ones that we encounter are evil. The possibility of a good Krang could exist, though.
Before the humans, the yokai roamed freely both on the surface of the Earth and underground. They were probably a lot happier then, and somewhat more numerous. Oppression by the humans must have taken a toll on them.
There were a lot of Hamato and only so many powers you could have, so there would have been a lot of overlap in ninpo abilities across all the ancestors.
The Prison Dimension and Dimension X are two different dimensions. Dimension X is where the krang are originally from, and the Prison Dimension was just used to get rid of villains. Both exist in the Rise universe.
If there was more Rise
There weren't any specific plans for Kendra, but she certainly could have been interesting as a frenemy.
They would definitely want to get into Casey's whole history with the TMNT, his mom, etc.
They would have wanted to develop April and Sunita's friendship a lot more, and see how both of them related to Cassandra Jones.
They'd make as many seasons as they'd be allowed to! But seriously, they could easily fill at least 3 more seasons. There's a lot to unlock with the Krang, and they'd also want to expore much more with Big Mama and the Hidden City.
Cassandra might not have been part of the main group, but she would have been a regular ally.
Cassandra and the turtles would have been allies, fighting the Krang. It's clear from the end of the movie that Cassandra is now roaming around and fighting krang, so she and the turtles could connect occasionally as a running storyline.
A new season would pick up from where the movie left off, so it would be a new plan instead of what was already made.
Bishop would have to be an ally, considering that the turtles had just saved the Earth. But he might be a grudging ally, one who didn't really trust the turtles or didn't like the fact that they don't play by the rules.
It would definitely be easier to do crossovers with the other 2D animated series, like the 87 series or the 2003 series. They could have some fun playing with both the writing and animation style of those shows. Combining 2D and CG animation is more difficult.
They probably would not have mutated April, as it would be a big step. In the scrapped episode where Dale turned into a wolf mutant, it was a result of a temporary mystic curse. They could certainly do something like that with April.
The turtles would still be able to comminicate with Karai through mystic means.
They would have gotten a lot more into the history of the Council of Heads in future seasons when they explored the relationship between the Hidden City and the Krang. They are clearly among the most ancient of yokai, possibly predating the Hidden City itself.
They could have done a temporary reverse mutation via some sort of mystic spell, to give the turtles human designs. It might have been fun since it seems to be something that fans enjoy so much.
They would have had the turtles go to the krang's dimension at some point in order to defeat the krang fully. They could have encountered any of the traditional dimension x/z stuff that way.
The storyline where the boys find their sisters would probably still happen. People would want to see it, even though it's been spoiled.
They had plans to eventually visit other Hidden Cities, such as one beneath Tokyo.
Cut Episodes/Scenes
In the original ending of the movie where Casey says goodbye and leaves, he was going to find his mom.
One of the scrapped episodes had to do with Mikey taking care of the other turtles when they were transformed into toddlers. He was a natural caretaker.
They never planned on a space arc, but they probably would have done one where they travel to the Krang dimension. They also were going to travel to the prison dimension to release Karai, and they could have had other adventures there as well.
Behind the Scenes
For the episode Pizza Puffs, Ben Schwartz did his part for feverish Leo without looking at the script so he would sound confused.
It would be great if Nickelodeon released some of the finished animatics for the lost season 2 episodes that were already boarded, but unfortunately, it's all copywrited material.
All animated movies go through multiple revisions, rewrites, and changes, which is why some of the original rise movie storyboards were scrapped.
They do remote recording all the time, especially since covid.
The amount that a writer incorporates into a fight scene varies from script to script. Sometimes, there are moments in a fight scene that are key to the story. If so, they are written out. Otherwise, they would sometimes write out a fight scene but know that it would change in the board. Sometimes, they'd just shorthand it.
The writers try not to indulge in too much fanfic because there could be copyright issues if it is similar to anything they would ever do in the show.
When writing the brothers, it was important to keep them in character. You have to know exactly who your characters are, all the time, in every way. The audience will forgive you if you do things that aren't exactly logical, but they won't forgive you if you sell out your characters.
There was never an overall map done of the lairs, just individual rooms. It was always kind of tricky for them to figure out exactly how to move the characters from one room to the other.
The krang invasion was specific to the movie, so we probably wouldn't have seen it in the series at all if it had not been cut short.
Other TMNT Characters
They weren't necessarily planning to add characters from other versions yet. They still had so many areas to explore that were specific to Rise, like the Hidden City, the yokai, and the history of the krang.
There were no particular plans for Honeycutt. One character that they wanted to use but never did was Monty Moose, and they were trying very hard to figure out a way to incorporate him into a story.
They didn't have any plans for Renet, but a character like her could easily fit into the Rise universe. Obviously time travel is a big part of the movie. They could use her to explore timelines that might have happened had the events of the movie turned out differently.
They didn't get a chance to explore triceratons, so there could certainly still be some out there.
Any similarities between Big Mama's assistant and the High Mage from TMNT 2003 are coincidental. They gave her the cape and hood to disguise her identity.
They didn't have any plans for Beebop and Rocksteady, since they don't really fit in with the Rise version of Shredder and the Foot Clan.
The turtles certainly could meet Yuichi Usagi.
Usagi Yojimbo crossovers are always fun. Ron could see one where his dimension has been overrun by the krang, and he comes to our dimension to seek the turtles' help because they're the only ones who have ever defeated the krang.
Ron-Specific Questions
Ron's personal favorite episodes are "Hot Soup: The Game" and "Sparring Partner."
They were super excited when they got John Lydon (aka Johnny Rotten) as Meat Sweats, just because Ron and Russ are big pink rock fans.
When asked about favorite duos, Ron likes Raph & Mikey, Donnie & April, and Leo & Senor Hueso.
If he could only save one episode from Rise and the rest became lost media, Ron would save the four-part finale.
If he could save one cut episode or plotline, Ron would want to save the more complete version of the end of season 2, where we would have seen much more of the turtles training and bonding with Karai.
Ron was not part of the new Saturday Morning Adventures comic that has Rise Raph on the cover.
If he could make a spin-off, Ron would want to do a series where Cassandra roams the Earth fighting remnants of the krang, joined by her son Casey, and occasionally joined by individual turtles and others. Draxum might join forces with her as well.
Miscellaneous
The silhouette in a tank shown at the end of Bug Busters was meant to illustrate Lou Jitsu when he is first hit with the ooze and mutated along with the turtles. It's more of a memory than an exact replication.
The reason Raph was transformed via the pod instead of instantanously may have been because Raph was unwilling, and was more difficult to change than someone like the Foot Clan ninjas, who underwent their transformation willingly.
They never attempted to get a brand deal with a soup company so fans could get Rise hot soup, but it would be a good idea.
The photo from the movie was taken just before the krang arrived.
When asked which Rise character is most likely to be Spider-Man: none of them, because he's owned by Marvel and Sony.
When asked why Donnie likes cute bratty girls: Ron is not sure where that comes from.
In Dungeons and Dragons, Raph would be a fighter class, Mikey would be some sort of illusionist, Leo would be a clever assassin or theif. Donnie would insist on being a scientist because he's sure there would have been at least one sensible person back then. April would be the DM.
Ron doesn't know what the illegible skate ramp graffiti means, but can ask one of the designers about it.
In a coffee shop, Mikey would be the baker, Donnie would create the most efficient coffee brewing system ever, Raph and April would run the business side, and Leo would be the most demanding customer ever.
The Future of Rise
The demand for Rise merch is real. It would be nice if Nickelodeon would put out more official merch.
There are no current plans for a season 3, but we can keep trying!
All we can really do to try and get Rise back is continue to share the show and encourage other people to watch. As well as keep it trending whenever we can. Sooner or later, someone will realize that there's a very real demand for this show.
He has talked about the potential for continuing the show in a comic book or short format, or in some other formats as well.
When asked if there's any chance of Netflix picking up Rise, or for both Tales of the TMNT and Rise to coexist -- anything's possible!
Ron would love to see a Rise comic series, but it's not his call. As far as if it would be darker, Ron thinks it's important that for Rise, they keep things light-hearted and comedic. That was always the goal of the show.
Shows rarely get "cancelled" in kids animation. It can always be brought back, but the focus is on Tales of the TMNT for now. He's said before that Rise could be brought back down the road as a "retro" series, or in other formats like a comic book, movie, or shorts.
... plus one answer, that does not have the original question attached:
"She would be stunned, and probably disbelieving at first. But we would find a way (through mystic means) for her to see her future timeline, at which point she would be overcome with emotion."
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tragedybunny · 5 months
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If you are in the mood for writing and taking requests, could you pls write a short fic about crying f!Tav and Astarion comforting her?
Hello! I hope you like it. This was actually a scene I had been thinking about for awhile as it fits in with my Tav's story. Thank you to @satanicspinosaurus for the beta.
Lean On Me - Astarion x F!Reader
Your group stepped through the Basilisk Gate after your confrontation with Gortash at Wyrm’s Rock, entering Baldur’s Gate properly for the first time. The clamor and crowds of the city were overwhelming, smothering you in an alien way of life you’d only glimpsed in bits and snatches from the Patriar’s ivory walls of the Upper Gate.
were familiar, and yet not, and entirely overwhelming. You almost stumble as you glance around, trying to take everything in. Muscles tense as it all blurs together and you frantically try to figure out how to navigate the section of the city you’ve rarely seen. Someone soundlessly hovers at your shoulder.
“Everything alright, Darling?” Astarion whispers to not draw the attention of the others. 
“Y-yeah,” you stutter before stepping away. There isn’t time for you to be anything else, so you breathe deep and take a step. 
“Should we start at the Elfsong? Could be a good base to operate from, and there’s always information to be found there.” Wyll’s point is solid, and the Emperor already urged you to stop there. 
“Good call.” There was just one problem. 
“Lead on, fearless Leader,” Wyll says jovially, but you’ve frozen where you stand. “You do know the way to the Elfsong right?” 
“I…” Frantically, you try to recall anything you know about the Lower City. 
“I thought every Baldurian knew where the Elfsong was,” Karlach asks, without malice, but genuine curiosity. 
You open your lips, but instead of words, a small noise comes out. It’s not their fault, they have no way of knowing, the Lower City was worlds away from your gilded cage. A place forbidden, it was below you. Or so you were told. 
“You're not familiar with the area, are you?” Wyll offers kindly, sensing something is wrong and trying to take some of the sudden pressure off. 
He says something else, but you can’t even hear him. The busy streets fade into visions of dark, cold rooms with windows to a world you can never touch. Tears embarrassingly prick your eyes as you’re drawn back into a place where fear motivates perfection, where hurt is a price paid to be molded into who you need to be. Eyes that mirror your own, blue and icy as a winter storm, stare at you with disdain. The message is clear: you’re not enough. 
Vaguely, more voices flit across your consciousness, but you can’t focus, until one voice in particular breaks though. “Go on ahead, I’ll take care of her.”
Cold hands clasp yours, a momentary calm in the storm. “Can you hear me, Love?” Wordlessly, you nod. “I’m going to lead you into this alley, just so we get out of the street.” The insistent pull is easy to follow with nothing to anchor you. 
The clustered buildings block the daylight, plunging you into shadows and shade, any progress of Astarion’s reassuring voice is lost. Daylight is a reward for obedience, and there is none of it here. Mother’s voice is in your ear, the matriarch of ice. You want to leave, but the door is locked, useful trinkets can’t be left to their own devices, lest they be lost. You feel yourself trembling, and you know you’re still crying. “You’re not there, you’re safe. Just focus on my voice. You can do that for me, right, my Sweet?” 
Eyes squeeze shut, and you yank your hands away from his to rub fitfully at the scar on your wrist. You never could get away from her, you're drowning in frigid water, you can’t breathe. She wouldn’t let you go, even when your heart stopped beating. Foolish to think you’d ever escape. “I’m going to take your hand again. I won’t hurt you.” 
Astarion makes a strangled gasp when he pries your hand from your wrist, but he holds it gently, rubbing softly with his thumb. “Come back to me, Sunlight, I’m right here.” 
Sunlight. “...you’re bright, and warm, and beautiful,” you can still hear those words of his as clear as the night he said them. Warm, bright, nothing like what you’re supposed to be. Because you’re free now, you’re no longer currency to be traded, your life is yours to mold. 
“Astarion,” you force your eyes open and struggle to get more words out between ragged breaths, burying your tears back down inside yourself. Wide crimson eyes stare at you with open concern, traveling down to where your nails have worried jagged, red lines in the skin of your wrist. Pulling it to your chest, you tuck it out of sight, wanting both of you to forget what you saw. “I’m fine. We should get going.” There’s so much that needs to be done. 
Astarion is never good at hiding his emotions from you, and hurt flickers across his face for a moment before he regains control. “But you’re not, and you don’t have to be all the time.” 
Deep breath, reassuring smile, the composure of a leader. Everyone is counting on you. That’s why they love you, you lead where they can’t. “Really, I’m alright, I-”
Gently, he pulls you into himself, and runs fingers comfortingly through your hair. “I know what it’s like, remember?” Gods, you’d almost forgotten who you were trying to convince. Instincts want to fight him still, to go on, to stop making a scene. But his comforting touch persists, and he raises your stinging wrist to his lips, laying the most delicate kiss on it. 
The tears you’d so successfully banished well back up, and you find yourself sniffling into his shirt, building to genuine gulping sobs. 
Composure shattered, there’s no going back. All your weight leans into him as you cry. “Sorry, I’m sorry, really, I’ll be fine.” 
“Shh, no apologies, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Lips kiss the top of your head, and you bury your face against him, still ashamed of breaking down. 
Time slips away from you as you let the fear and hurt drain away in tears. Astarion’s hold never waivers, soothing words falling from his lips in a low whisper until you finally quiet. There’s an emptiness where it all was, but it’s better than the pain. “I-”
“That had better not be another apology on that sweet little tongue of yours.” He lets go just enough to pull back and study you, concern written on his features, despite the lighter tone to his words. 
You offer him a shaky smile. Despite his faults, Astarion tries to be a good partner. “It burns like failure. I should be better.”
“Hmm, that sounds like it comes from your family I'd wager,” your eyes go wide at his deduction, “it wasn't hard to figure out from the little bits I've been able to get from you. But they're not here, and I am. And I say you're so very strong already, you deserve some time when you’re not.” 
Silently, you let your head fall back against his chest. You don’t have an answer for him because you want to argue. That’s a pointless endeavor, though, both because Astarion is nearly impossibly stubborn and a little part of you is starting to think he’s right. “Maybe,” you finally say. 
“You know I’m right Darling, like always,” it’s such a typical Astarion way of ending a heavy moment, you give him a genuine smile. “But I suppose we should catch up with the others, gods know what trouble they’ve gotten into without us.” 
If only you had time for just the two of you right now, it will have to wait though. More than just your friends, a whole city is at the precipice of disaster. And who knows how many more than Baldur’s Gate will suffer if you fail. One more kiss and you stand up straight, finding the will to press on again. 
A hand catches yours, a reminder you’re not doing this alone. 
Tag list:
@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity
 @mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster @dependsonthedream
@sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess
@lumienyx @lisrelly @elora-the-slutty-songstress
@astariongf
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lustlovehart · 4 months
Text
Summary: [Angst] The balladeer watches as you receive an electro vision right in front of his eyes.
A/n: I love him, but felt like he should be sad on his birthday tbh <3. (The bonus is a bit happier though so enjoy that all you want.)
Warnings: Mostly pure angst, but some possessiveness in him, not to the point of being yandere though.
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Your fingers tremble as you look at the man in front of you, his face typically adorning an expression of scorn a vast majority of the time. You’ve gotten use to the look, others feared it, you used to as well, but eventually time passed on and you’d grown accustomed to all sides of him, perhaps not all, only the ones he was willing to show you. However as you look at him now, the mask he wears on his breathtaking features, make you loose your breath.
He had no emotion, none that could be seen at least.
Your hands griped tighter onto the purple glass ball that had floated in front of you. You tried your best to stay composed but the stiffness of your joints had made it obvious.
"Kuni-"
He turns away, something he never does. You’ve never witnessed him not look at you, to the point of growing accustomed to his watching eyes. His body continues to get smaller and smaller as he walks further and further away from you. Unbeknownst to you, the puppet had turned his figure away in order for your eyes to not gaze upon his crumbling composure, the exact thing that led him to not be worthy in the eyes of god, no… the eyes of his mother.
No matter how hard he himself tried to deny it, he understood his feelings for you were the wretched thing called ‘love’, which is why he lets himself gaze at you with such an emotion in his hollowed chest. In fact, thats all he can feel when he’s around you. Yet as of this moment, he no longer knows how he should feel.
The scene of you, would typically make his heart race in way that seemed unhealthy for the regular being, yet, the image of you, holding the vision his mother had ruling over, struck a chord with him. He feels, grief. If he was still the way he was before he met you, he’s sure he would’ve ended you right where you stood, jealousy filling his veins full of unfiltered anguish at the thought of a mere mortal being chosen by Celestia as an potential candidate to ascending like his mother.
But, this is you, not some random stranger, not a random mortal beneath him. It was you who was chosen by a higher power.
You walk closer behind, even through his fake skin, he can feel the warmth of your very human body, transferring to his puppet one. But even with the fluttering feeling you gave him, he could not help the words dripping with venom spill from his lips.
"Give it up. Do you believe your grandiose belief of ambition reached the heavens? Do not forget, I am the only one you truly need in this cruel world."
In your eyes he can clearly tell the shock you held for his sudden change in deamonur. A complete 180 to the way he was just prior moments ago.
"What...?"
"Did you not hear me the first time? You dont need that so called 'blessing', for you already have me, its foolish to believe you need anything other than me. Am I not capable enough? Am I...." his words seem to catch themself in his throat, like he was holding back as to not further embarrass himself, yet the words make it out in the end.
"Am I not enough for you too...?" His hues dont make contact with, almost as if he was the young puppet he once was again.
You only stare at him, not understanding the underlying message of his words. The silence was deafening, yet as it continued, he could only sigh before walking away.
"At least be with me, [Name], even if you were the one who's worthiness was recognized, I want you to still care for me the way no one else had stayed." His words faded away with the wind though quiet, they were still there.
[Bonus]
In the dead of night, your eyes are trained on the dim candlelight in the room. Despite its unsure flame, it still stayed lit as it wavered. Similar to the man who laid beside you.
You couldnt remember his words anymore, but even then you doubt youd understand the context. His arms are tightly wrapped around you waist as you laid still, despite his unique trait of not needing to breathe, it still felt as if he was inhaling you as much as he could.
"Kuni, just what did you mean by 'too'...?" Despite your words being barely a whisper, it seems his mechanical ears still heard what you had said.
"That doesnt really matter anymore. All that matters is that you dont become the forth of it all."
"What does that even mean... I swear you need to start making sense for once..."
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This was made while I was like half asleep during class, so if it isnt too good please dont blame me you guys.
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