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f10werfae · 1 year

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But That’s Mine Hen!

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry Cavill x Short!Shy!Wife

summary: Pouty Y/n gets jealous when her grump of a man is approached by a certain woman; she can't help but stomp her foot and whine, showing everyone that he's hers and vice versa (Dom!Henry)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Lumberjack!Henry, Full Masterlist, taglist form

“Come on bun, let’s go get that dress you wanted” Henry smirked keeping a hand on his wife’s ass, a small squeak leaving her rosy lips as he gave her cheeks a tight squeeze. Giving him a kiss wet enough to leave others drooling, she giggled interlacing their hands together. The both of them taking an afternoon stroll into town for some summer shopping, Y/n happily spending her burly man’s money.

“Oh Henry! Hey!!” A high shrilly voice said from behind them, Y/n’s face immediately furrowing seeing Patricia, the bar owner of the town calling after her man. A pang of jealousy immediately hitting her chest. Henry seemed to have noticed this, a smirk on his face, he walked forward and gave the woman a hug.

“Oh Patricia, it’s lovely to see you, still lookin’ as beautiful as ever” Henry smirked, his eyes still on Y/n who could be heard scoffing as she looked to the side, her eyes finding her shoes the most interesting thing in the world. Fisting the bottom of Henry’s shirt, a pout on her face as she stomped her foot slightly. Henry looked at her from the side of his eye, finding her jealous reaction the most adorable thing ever, she looked like a baby bunny. His baby bunny.

“Please, you flatter me too much, you never come round anymore been missin’ you round the bar” Patricia pouted crossing her arms over to prop up her breasts, ‘don’t be so obvious’ Y/n thought to herself. “Swear you have gotten more handsome, we should have dinner sometime, maybe we can catch up some more?” Patricia beamed happily, she had clearly been ignoring Y/n’s presence this entire time, because when Y/n tried to say something next she was rudely interrupted.

“Great it’s a date!” Patricia replied without even hearing Henry’s reply, wrapping her arms around his torso like a mad woman, how desperate Y/n thought. Deciding not to let herself third wheel her husband and some sloppy woman, Y/n turned straight on her heels and walked towards the dress boutique she was there for in the first place; her eyes set on the periwinkle backless dress settled on the mannequin. Her mood immediately lifting as she saw the glitter sleeves and the length seemed just perfect.

“Oh my, is that the Y/n L/n?” A guy around Y/n’s age shouted from the other side of the boutique, a shining smile on his face, a clearly well kept man of his time. “J-Jeremy?” Y/n said confused, she hadn’t seen her friend in years, truthfully she had forgotten he even existed. “What are you doing here?” She asked confused, seeing him holding a tape measure and pieces of fabric.

“Moved back from LA, took a job here as a fitter and designer, wanted to feel more at home. You get it?” He smiled setting down his things and folding his arms over his chest, “Y-yeah I get it” Y/n stuttered back feeling a bit anxious under his gaze, lowkey wishing for Henry to walk in now any second.

“So can I help you? Are you wanting that new periwinkle dress? I can help you get fitted with my tape measure, make sure it fits perfectly” He smiled honestly, holding up his tape measure; within seconds he had thrown it around the smaller woman’s waist.

“O-Oh no it’s okay, i’m just waiting on my husb-“

“Sugar? So this is where ya ran off to?” Hearing that same low voice she loved, she smiled shyly knowing he wouldn’t be happy with her being in such close proximity with another guy. Specifically one that she had dated mildly back when she was 14, even though it meant nothing, Henry still seemed pissy. “It’s okay my wife doesn’t need help, Jeremy” Henry grumbled standing up to his full height, then bending down and reading the shorter man’s name tag, leaving him slightly shaken merely by the size of the older man.

“A-are you sure? I can help with-“

“Listen, Jeremy, I told you we don’t need help. Do we sugar?” Henry asked deeply, his eyes travelling to Y/n who shook her head rapidly, her hands immediately wrapping around her man’s hairy forearm, her nails mindlessly raking through the arm hair. Jeremy simply nodded and scurried off to help the other elderly woman in the shop, leaving the married couple to their own devices.

“Leave ya alone for two seconds n you’re already givin’ away my pussy for a dress” Henry grumbled scoffing grabbing her hand tightly, pulling her out of the shop like a kid who was being scolded, pushing her into the back of his truck that was parked on the sidewalk. Her head landing on the soft pink seat covers she said she would die without, and Henry of course gave in without a second thought.

“W-wasn’t givin it away!” Y/n pouted crossing her arms as Henry hovered above her, pushing the seats down to almost make a bed like surface. “Sure you weren’t” Henry grumbled, his hands holding on tightly to her hips, his cock slightly hardening at the sight of her breasts now pushed against her thanks to gravity.

“B-but you were about to go say yes to dinner with Patricia, n-n that’s no fair. I-i’m your wife n’ that’s mine!” Y/n whisper shouted, tears slightly collecting in her eyes from frustration motioning to the tent in his trousers, so she turned her head to the side not wanting to look at Henry right now. “Oh baby sugar, did ya not hear me when I said no afterwards, or were ya too busy suckin’ off Jeremy”

Henry’s heart ached seeing her so riled up and upset, but he couldn’t help but notice how wet she got from him simply teasing her. “W-was not! You’re mean, I don’t wanna talk to you right now. Go back to Patricia or whatever her name is” Y/n grumbled, whining when Henry tilted her head back to look at him, a softer smile on his face as he kissed her tears away.

“M’sorry honey, jus wanted to tease ya but I promise I won’t do it no more, i’m all yours, n’ I definitely don’t want to see you around that Jeremy fucker ever again. You understand?”

“Yeah whatever, can we jus go home now please” Y/n pouted still feeling down in the dumps. “I love you sugar, my precious wife” Henry cooed nuzzling his nose against her slightly reddened one, her eyes as big as buttons as she looked up at him.

“L-love you too” She whispered back leaning forward and pecking his lips softly, wiping away her face with the back of her hand. “Aw i’m sorry honey, your Henry’s sorry, didn’t mean ta upset you so much” Henry whispered now feeling a bit guilty, making a mental note to never play this sorts gag on her ever again, he couldn’t bare to see his baby bun so upset. It broke his heart.

Nudging his head against hers he kissed both her cheeks, cupping her face, wiping her stray tears with his thumbs. “Come on, smile for me baby” He whispered kissing down her neck, over the pearl necklace he had bought her for no reason whatsoever, other than he had seen her stare at it for more than two seconds.

Seeing her lips crack up a smile, he himself also smiled as he kissed her lips passionately, his tongue coaxing open her lips; letting his tongue mingle with hers as he felt her arms wrap around his neck. “Gonna take you right here okay bun?” He kissed her full cheeks one more time before sitting up and unbuttoning his jeans, his cock already springing out without help.

Nodding ,Y/n shyly widened her legs and wrapped them around his waist, flipping her dress up to reveal the purple lace covering her centre. “Baby you spoil me too much” He chuckled pushing her underwear to the side, teasing the tip of his cock up and down her slit before resting it against her snug hole.

“J-just put it in already bear” Y/n whined wiggling her hips in hopes of him just slipping in, a sharp breath kicking her throat as he suddenly just filled her to the brim. “This what you wanted, your husband’s cock all up your wet pussy?” He said through gritted teeth, hid hands sliding up to cup her face, his forehead against hers as he basically lay on top of her.

“Come on, tell me what ya want or you aren’t going to get it butterfly, what do you want?”

“I-I want my husband’s-husband’s cock in my pussy alla time, j-jus for me and no one else” Y/n gasped feeling his thumb reach down and start toying with her clit, massaging it in all directions giving her a sense of overstimulation. With her mouth gaped open, Henry saw this as another opportunity to get his woman dirty, collecting spit onto his tongue before letting it dribble onto hers.

An excited whimper leaving her as she cupped his face and smashed their tongues together in an open-mouthed kiss, letting him swallow all her gasps and moans while he thrusted mercilessly. The sounds of hip and lip smacking filled the car, with it evidently becoming extremely steamed up giving them another cover from the public.

“Your little pussy is gonna make your husband cum baby, fuck, we were made for each other” He moaned breaking from the kiss, “W-what if you grow bored o-of me?” Y/n asked mid whimper, those insecure thoughts filling her head again, only for them to be interrupted with a pleasurable spank to her breast.

“Don’t speak that way about my wife”

“W-woah feel all fuzzy now” Y/n smiled lazily, her body jerking with each thrust, her arms again draping around Henry’s shoulders as best they could, “Oh do you honey? Fuckin’ brilliant” He swore picking up the pace to a heavenly rate, “go on baby bun, show em all who we belong to” He growled picking up her hand and dragging it down the steamed window, leaving a very erotic looking handprint amidst the mist, anyone walking by could guess what was going on; as if the car rocking wasn’t enough.

“H-Henry cumming” She said using his full name, which sent Henry into a frenzy, his rhythm falling as he felt his cock grow that bit more sensitive. “Love, i’m going to cum i-inside you okay? Wan’ fill you up and show everyone all of you is mine, show them all what they can’t have when you’re all round full of me” He rambled almost out of breath, her hands cupping his face and staring into his eyes hazily.

Both of them lost in each other ad Y/n clenched her hole around his thick cock, milking it for all its worth as he spurted rope after rope inside of her. Once they both calmed down, a small voice said “B-bear did ya really say no to P-patricia?” She mumbled looking into his icy blues, her fingers playing with the chain around his neck which had a pendant with her fingerprint.

“Course I did honey, ya kiddin me? There’s no other woman on this Earth I’d willingly spend my time with other than you baby bun. N’ that better be the same for you”

“Mhm mhm It is!” Y/n chirped now happily and more hyper despite the raging sex they had which now seemed to smell around the car, ignoring the fact that the mixture of those their orgasms were now leaking onto the cushioned seats.

“you’re going to stay here n look pretty while I go into that boutique” Henry smirked flipping her skirt down and buttoning himself back up, wiping the spit and drool of her face using his red plaid button up. “W-what?”

“Need to get ya that pretty dress you deserve, n’ show that Jimmy bastard who’s boss around here” He smiled leaning down and kissing her pussy passionately over the thin fabric of her dress before exiting the car, Y/n would have stopped him about the cum stains on his jeans, but she didn’t really see the big deal now that he was inside the boutique.

——-

Taglist Tags (form is up there^^): @severewobblerlightdragon @disaster-rose @meyocoko @HcavsCevans @morenoc @Kaydesssssssss @esposadomd @kimm4710 @yaminax @rosiesluv7 @hoya122 @imahallucinationnn @elenavampire21 @luvabellee @cookielovesbook-akie @theekyliepage @cilliansangel @thoughtsofreid @kzhlvlysstuff @grxnde-dwt @p4st3lst4rs @thebaileybugle @teti-menchon0604 @ggmimitf @ninasw0rld @acornacre @keiva1000 @spencerreidat4am @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @hp-hogwartsexpress @lastwandastan @fdl305 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @princess-paramour @stormcloudss @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @kimhtoo17 @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill smut #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x wife!reader #henry cavill x short!reader #henry cavill x shy!reader #lumberjack!henry cavill #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill oneshot #henry cavill fluff

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amorous-apothipl · 2 months

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i wont lie to ya, i think we're goin' too hard on the aros.

i am a culprit of this, don't get me wrong. i understand the rationale behind it. aplatonicism is heavily related and in proximity to aromanticism (and other aspec communities). it also is a great example of a culture who (most often) puts friendship above any other sort of relationship; one, too, that advocates for the normalization of friendship being an important part of anyone's life--regardless of whether they're in a romantic relationship or not.

i've noticed that we, as aplatonics, are pushing for the normalization of platonicism and friendship as optional. that, as well as pointing out how prevalent it is in our societies, sometimes causing stress or harm to an individual's wellbeing with us wanting to challenge how much it is brought upon people.

and i think we're toxic with how we approach the aromantic's ideas. we see them as doing bad unto us. i think it's because they're so concentrated and readily available, easy to point out as something aplatonics might be against or averse to.

aromantics are not our enemies. they are not trying to go against us. they are not trying to stamp us out.

they are just trying to exist in a world where romantic desire and relationships are the end-all be-all of *life*. an example: if you aren't married by the time your deathbed arrives, you're seen as pitiful, unfulfilled, wasted, among other things.

they're trying to find a place where they can explore their aromanticism and relationships and their feelings regarding that. for many, that's going to involve reevaluating how they were taught to think about friendship: as second to having a partner. that's not something we should take away from or denounce, for we are doing the same.

aplatonics are trying to find a place where we can explore our aplatonicism and relationships and our feelings regarding that. for many, that's going to involve reevaluating how we were taught to think about friendship: as something everyone wants, does have, and should have.

i think we should work to understand their ideas, how aromanticism and it's culture work within someone and their life, and how we can accept their viewpoints without tearing them down just because it doesn't explicitly disclaim that they're alloplatonic and aren't against aplatonicism.

our ideas play together. both romanticism and platonicism are major heads within the social world, both having their strangleholds over the population.

please keep this in mind going forward. be nuanced when talking about the aromantic's ideas. be nuanced when talking about the aplatonic's ideas. understand how we are both communities of which highlight the domination of the two forces and use that to your advantage.

TL;DR (Please still read though!)--------------------------------------

aros point out how romanticism works against us

apls point out how platonicism works against us

these ideas are both valid, and work together

apls rag on aros too much just because they're easy to point to as a perpetuation of platonormativity

aros's "platonormativity" is most often just a deconstruction of how they've been taught to see relationship, them getting more in tune with how they wanna do their shit (just like we are)

don't denounce aro ideas and lives on the basis of it not being congruent with your own ideals and how you may think it goes against apl ideas

critically assess aro ideas with an understanding that it might not be for you and you're allowed to interpret the work as you wish, perhaps even trying to understand it from your own apl perspective

Thanks for reading! Feel free to add you own ideas for or against any/all of my points; I feel this is important to how we go forth as a communities.

I come at this from the perspective of a romance ambivalent aromantic and platonic repulsed aplatonic.

#aplatonic #aplspec #apothiplatonic #aspec #apl #aromantic #arospec #aro #aroace #platonormativity #amatonormativity

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 2 months

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on the subject of Frank, Frank & Julie, and Franklydear

I used to think that Frank will probably be one of the more skeptical puppets, and prone to being one of the first to see that not all is as it seems. And I think the majority of us think/thought this!

But thanks to Riv i have entirely changed my tune. I think Frank will actively be avoiding the truth & clinging to the illusion. Here’s why!

Frank is portrayed as the most “rigid” neighbor - hell, it’s even part of his design! He likes routine, rules, for things to be ‘just so’ in his eyes. He doesn’t seem to like it when things stray from how they’re supposed to be. Everything has a time and a place.

(and this might be mildly insane but blame Riv not me bc they said it, but in Just So Frank says “i like it best when red goes in front of the rest”, and if red is Wally… dot dot dot…)

Then there’s how Frank will very likely be trying extremely hard to be something he’s not. And this is part of his design, too - he’s the only one in the cast without a natural blush. Yes, we’ve seen art where he can blush, but that’s in specific situations. In the bio images Frank is the only one without that little extra bit of color to his cheeks - he has two huge red splotches on him instead. Fake blush. Big and bright and impossible to ignore.

And I’m gonna be diving a bit into Franklydear & Frank’s relationship with Julie because it’s important to this.

I have also changed my tune on Franklydear - slightly. Welcome Home seems to be an example of nonlinear storytelling, as we’ve been getting bits and pieces from all over the place. The Live Interview from the early days, WHRP & Wally’s secret vinyl audios from “now”, the bug audios from an indeterminate time… so while I do think Franklydear is “already happening” within the main meat of the “past”, we will likely also get a chance to see before and after. And I do think there will be an after.

But I’m getting ahead of myself! Why do I think we’re going to see an established Franklydear? I’m going to be honest. A kofi post that I accidentally saw when a friend was sharing their screen with me and didn’t notice until it was too late </3 I should have looked away! But I didn’t, and that’s on me! I won’t say what I saw (it would be a theory anyways, nothing explicit or concrete in the evidence!) but it immediately convinced me that Frank & Eddie are in a secret relationship. I want to say more very badly, but if i’m proven right in tonight’s stream then I will be sharing Why I’m right.

More reasoning that is obvious with this context - the whole “Mr. Dear / Frank- i mean Mr. Frankly!” thing might be part of this fabricated distance. I would completely believe you if you told me that Frank had them both refer to each other professionally to keep up the facade that they’re nothing but neighbors, nothing going on here nosiree. They definitely don’t meet in the woods to be romantic! That added with how unusually playful Frank is with Eddie in 8-14 is interesting… though I can also believe that those audios are from “before” their relationship, given that Frank seems to be dropping a hint with the whole “ You don’t need to be that familiar with them in order to get to know them better!” line. I don’t know - there are a bunch of contradictions that could be them acting, could be differences in the timeline, who’s to say yet!

Anyway, so Franklydear is likely in a secret relationship, but I think Frank is going to get scared, call it off, and try to force a relationship with Julie. As in lying to her and everyone that he has feelings for her, and fulfilling their “destiny” in becoming a couple. I think Frank is where a lot of the internalized homophobia is going to come in.

In most of the Franklydear art we’ve seen from Clown, Frank seems to be very nervous and flustered around Eddie while Eddie seems to be more calm and forward. Frank has already proven to have a bit of a nervous disposition - he’s certainly high strung. That combined with his rigidity, the airs he puts on, and just… everything about him really, I don’t think he’ll be able to handle the pressure.

(side note: the way that Clown said that he wishes they hadn’t let everyone know about Franklydear, it’s ok because it’s “not a major spoiler” has been fucking me up a little. Wym it’s not a Major spoiler? It’s so funny… we’ve all been like “Franklydear will be Thee relationship and a big thing-” and then it’s Not. lmao)

Then there’s the song Clown associates with Franklydear, “Esperar pra ver”. @/Theneighborhoodwatch gave a translation/interpretation of the lyrics - cannot for the life of me find the og ask/post to link, but (if I’m remembering correctly) it was essentially said that the song is about love that doesn’t last / lost love. My friend Akemi (@/akemima <3) provided an alternate interpretation - to quote:

“...to me, it speaks about how they’re both Unable to speak up about their love? and the “wait and see” part is most likely them waiting for the other to make a first step or like. something Hopeful yknow?”

As both a tragedy enjoyer and a happy-end enjoyer, I wouldn’t mind either interpretation being accurate, personally! So Akemi has given us a sprinkle of hope for Franklydear! I think that both interpretations have merit, and hey, they can coexist. We might have them together, then Frank getting scared and calling it off, and then a “third arc” of them wanting to be back together but unable to (yet). Who’s to say!

ON TO THE JULIE PORTION.

For a while I thought that Julie might be the one to pursue a relationship with Frank - both because of the subconscious influence of her “Role” & that she’s bi while Frank is gay. On surface level she would be the most likely of the two to get the wrong/mixed signals and Go For It.

However. Nothing about this project is surface level.

I’ve already mentioned that I think Frank is going to try very hard to be something he isn’t. And this is backed by how his relationship with Julie is portrayed (another thank you to Riv for pointing a lot of this out & smacking some sense into me <3)

Frank is all about rules and matching. Julie is all about improv and independence. Riv pointed out that in “Just So” the audio distorts when Frank is changing bowties and Julie asks if it “really matters”. They also pointed out that, apparently in the Halloween outfit references, Frank’s notes indicate that he’s matching with Julie - but Julie doesn’t have any reciprocating notes. It implies that she was doing her own thing and Frank adjusted himself accordingly. Julie goes along with Frank sometimes, but it seems that it’s usually Frank scrambling to go along with Julie. She’s been described as independent and stubborn. Frank is a bit more of a conforming pushover (no offense Frankie, love ya to bits <3).

Frank is the straightman to Julie’s… I can’t reference the bios anymore but you know! He might be her straightman in more ways than just “he takes things seriously.”

And really. Frank likes routine, he likes things to be consistent. He’s been with Julie as her best friend / “partner” for so long that I’m not sure if he can easily break away from that - I think a change as big as getting romantically involved with Eddie would terrify him. It might be thrilling for a moment, but then the fear will set in.

I thought Julie would be the one clinging to Frank, but it’s the other way around isn’t it?

Frank gets scared & then leads Julie on because he’s trying to act “normal”, the way that’s expected of him. And it fits. One of WH’s themes is the fear of being shunned for / perceived as different by others. Once they know what you are, will they treat you the same?

And I don’t think Julie would be entirely opposed, either. I wouldn’t blame her for developing a crush on Frank. I mean, it might turn out that she’s “just going along with it” because she feels the same pressure and fear, but hm… I’m not convinced of that given what we know about her character. But if Julie has a little crush on Frank, I wouldn’t be surprised if when he forces himself to like her & initiates a relationship, she either realizes that it really was just a crush, or she’ll pick up on how Frank doesn’t actually have feelings & act accordingly. This option has more merit in my eyes. I think it would also reflect on the “love” theme of her house - I’ve speculated since pretty much day one that she’ll have an arc around realizing that she doesn’t need a relationship or even really want one at present, going against what Playfellow likely wanted from her.

(and then I start thinking about the whole livestream trivia thing of Julie maybe falling down a hole or into some abyss… and the concept art of her shoes where she’s standing at the edge of a dark abyss… does she fall, does she jump, or is she pushed? If she winds up being pushed, who does it? Barnaby (milk theory babey!) or perhaps she’ll get in a fight with Frank and in the heat of the moment he accidentally causes her to fall, either by pushing or making her lose awareness of her surroundings (backing off of the edge?). I’m aware that this paragraph is a stretch all around! Don’t take it too seriously! A pinch of salt, people!)

There’s not much else to be said so, in conclusion:

Welcome Home’s storytelling is likely on a nonlinear timeline, Franklydear is established but won’t last, and Frank/Julie is probably going to become a temporary thing

#and yeah! not much else to say! quiet tags bc i was too thorough In Post!#homebogging #wh speculation #welcome home speculation

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end-otw-racism · 11 months

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What's Next

The action for #EndOTW racism has officially ended. Originally we called for it to run from May 17th through the 31st. We are completely blown away and heartened by the response of fandom. Even though we’ve seen some racist backlash, the majority of the response we’ve seen has been positive and supportive. For us it has been deeply reassuring to see how important this issue is to fandom as a whole. Over the last two weeks:

5,602 works have added 'End OTW Racism' to their information

Our Collection has grown to 1,606 works

There has been a wealth of discusson on multiple social media platforms about the issue of race in fandom and the OTW

"Now what?" you may ask. We have not yet received any official response from OTW. This is disappointing but not surprising. Calling for institutional change is a marathon, not a sprint, and this was just our opening act.

We count as a success that we have been able to bring awareness to issues with the OTW in a respectful but insistent manner. It is also a win that we have been able to connect with one another and begin the first of many deeper fandom discussions on how to move forward. Additionally we are heartened that many who work within the OTW have come forward to detail their experiences within the institution.

We’re also grateful for those people who have signed up to stay involved with us, including volunteering for various related projects and committing to participating in future actions. We’ll be reaching out to everyone who filled out the form in a few weeks - though it may take us a while, given how busy we’ve been with this campaign!

Also, we already have another action planned to coincide with the upcoming OTW elections. Please keep following us here or on our other socials (twitter, dreamwidth) and consider signing up at our form to be alerted when upcoming actions take place.

Though this action is now officially done, we will be keeping the AO3 Collection open and any works added during the action will remain there unless creators want to remove them. Those who wish may revert their work titles (while keeping them in the collection), though we know many will keep the changed titles going forward. If this is something you are comfortable with, we encourage you to keep them! And should you continue to update new works with End OTW Racism in your title, we welcome you adding the work to the collection.

Thank you so much to those who participated in this first of, hopefully, many actions. We do not intend to let up until consistent and measurable action on our requests has been taken.

Fandom Against Racism Team

#endotwracism #fandom against racism #ao3 #otw #organization for transformative works #end otw racism

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jewishvitya · 5 months

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I just wanted to thank you so much for all of your insight and generosity with your perspective as an anti-zionist israeli, something you absolutely don't owe us but I feel immense amounts of respect and admiration for. from an American jew, it's been so valuable to know there are people like you out there, it's made everything feel much less hopeless despite all the hopelessness. I've felt very alone recently, surrounded by all the Jewish people in my life who are pro-israel and don't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation and my pro-palestine gentile friends, and I've felt very alone in my grief as I've only really started to unpack and dismantle my own biases very recently. reading your posts and your perspective on everything has just made me feel very seen as a jew in this situation, especially as I try to reconcile my feelings about everything going on with my own feelings about my faith and my identity.

you've probably seen that I've gone through a lot of your posts and that I've followed you. i just want you to know that I'm not necessarily following you just for that, I know you're just a fandom blog, it's just that after looking through your posts I feel like you're just a really nice person and seeing yoi on my dash from you would be endearing coming from you even though im not into it myself.

just. thank you again for sharing your story and continuing to share. you have no idea how much it's helped me.

I'm in tears. I've been crying way more than usual over the past couple of months, but it's nice for a change to have those tears to come from being touched instead of grief. I apologize if I'm going to ramble.

You say I didn't owe you all this, but I do feel responsible. I'm watching so much destruction and seeing how comfortable people around me are with the loss of life. This is why I've been talking about what we do and not as much about the impact of October 7 on me or people I know. I did a bit of that in the beginning, but pretending it was the start of everything to keep going back to that one day, after two months of horror, as if I can't count past 7... I didn't choose to be born where I am, I didn't choose to grow up in the most extremist community this place has to offer. But since I'm here, since I'm comfortable at the expense of Palestinians and violence is being done in my name and I have the tools to highlight issues within my society, I think it's a moral obligation.

I know how I talk about things here, and that's genuinely because I don't want to minimize the severity of the racism and the nationalism in Israel. And someone perceived my words as showing hatred for Israelis. But... I love my people. I don't expect those who see or experience our violence to feel the same or even understand me, but I do. It's my neighbors and my childhood friends and my family. It's children I see playing outside and getting excited when they see I have a cat, and the random people who stop me in the street and give me directions if they think I look lost.

Even growing up in the West Bank settlements, the people were very good to me. I needed years to internalize the fact that this kindness doesn't get extended to you if you're not part of the in-group. It broke my heart. It still does. Seeing people who I know are capable of kindness and compassion, hardening themselves against the pain of other human beings. Closing their eyes and telling themselves it isn't real. It's all an act.

I told a friend I feel like I'm betraying my mom, who was deeply bigoted, but also a wonderful mother. She taught me a lot of the principles that are guiding me now - I just took down the walls she put around who deserves to be considered. She'd be horrified with seeing the things I'm saying if she was still alive. But she taught me to care about people, I just decided it means all people.

Everyone should be prioritizing Palestinian liberation, and at the same time, I care about this too. I care about the morality of my people. I need us to be better than this. I want to dismantle the nationalism that teaches us hate and violence so we can start to heal and come to terms with what we did (and still do) here. I want us to fix what we can and hold ourselves accountable. I want us to reimagine safety in a way that doesn't cause harm, and build good relationships with the rest of humanity. Every marginalized community is experiencing bigotry in interactions with every other community, that's just how these things work. But I believe healing the world, and healing my society, is possible.

And it's hard, because so much of what we learn is rooted in truth. Antisemitism is real. Millennia of persecution are real. The trauma we carry is real. If the idea of an ethnostate makes us feel safe, and the idea of losing it makes us scared, how do we differentiate between fear as a natural reaction to antisemitic violence and fear that was taught to us for the sake of nationalism? Especially those of us living in Israel, immersed in the propaganda. It doesn't matter in practice, our feelings of safety or fear don't justify an ethnostate, especially not one built on top of another nation, but it matters for the conversations I have with people.

And I said that the violence I'm seeing feels like an attack on my identity. Seeing a giant hannukiyah in Gaza, when Hannukah tells the story of occupied people fighting off their oppressors. Seeing images that echo so much of the horrors that were done to us. The Magen David being used with hate and spite. It's all so painful. And I love this land, it's the only home I've known, so seeing us destroying nature and soaking it with blood and calling that connection?

Judaism does guide me here. The concept of tikkun olam. The idea of לא עליך המלאכה לגמור ולא אתה בין חורין לבטל ממנה - doing what I can, even if what I'm able to do isn't some decisive blow that entirely turns the tide. The idea that every human being is a whole entire world, to me it means that every single person alive is worth fighting for. So no matter how much death I see, there's still worlds more to save.

And Jewitches had this post that felt just healing to read. Nationalism hijacked our culture, and it will always leave a mark for centuries into the future. But I'm not letting go, and I'm not letting that create a rift between me and thousands of years full of history I can be proud of.

I feel your grief. And I'm grateful for the anti-zionist Jews I met by talking about this, because honestly, I need you people in my life. The pain and the anger are both easier to hold together.

So, thank you for following. I might follow back, just to see you around on my feed. And thank you for sending this. Feel free to message me anytime for any reason (I promise it won't result in a lecture every time).

Also, your url gave me pjo nostalgia

#riki babbles

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nathaslosthershit · 7 months

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Meet Cute

Mat Barzal x Hughes!sister

Part of the Birdie Hughes AU

Summary: In which Birdie goes to an art museum, is unimpressed, and runs off with someone more entertaining to look at.

The art was beautiful but after circling around once she had seen all she needed to. Making a few comments here and there with other visitors she finally decided it was well past her time to leave. She had been here long enough to have a few things to talk about with her coworker.

But one man scowling at a painting caught her attention before she could make her way out.

“You look unimpressed.” She says coming up to stand beside him.

“Art isn’t really my thing, I'm here with friends who are here with girlfriends. I just don’t get the appeal of staring at it for minutes on end trying to understand it. I look at it, see if I think it's pretty, then move on. I’ve already looked at everything and have just been walking around.”

“Yeah I get it, certainly not everyone’s scene. If you don’t spend your days looking disinterested at art, what do you do?”

“I’m a hockey player.”

“Of course you are” Birdie mumbles. She can never get away from them.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“What about you?”

“I work in a museum.” She says chuckling, knowing the reaction she is about to get.

“Oh fuck I’m so sorry. I totally just- is this- do you work here?”

“Calm down. I work in a history museum. Art isn’t my thing that much either. One of my coworkers raved about this exhibit but I knew I wouldn’t like it. I don’t know why I felt the need to go.” Looking at the man beside her though, she was thankful she did.

“Thank god someone agrees. I felt like an asshole. Plus, I thought we were going to stay for 45 minutes tops and then get food but it's been over an hour. I’m starving.”

“There is a great Mexican place two blocks down if you’d like to try? Although maybe you should stay with your-”

“Sounds great, let's go. I like them but they all can fuck off for all I care right now, I am so hungry.” He laughs as they walk out into the night.

✺✺✺✺✺✺✺

The food was great, the conversation flowed easily, and Birdie had been sitting with one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen.

“How can you come from such a talented hockey family and not play?” He asks, something many people do, something she asked herself when she decided she was done with the sport.

“I loved it, still do. And I was good, the Hughes genes didn’t miss me. But, I realized in high school I enjoyed playing with my family more. I am just not a competitive person and liked playing for fun rather than to win. Something my family didn’t understand for a while, which I don’t blame them for. I, of course, still watch and support my brothers. I love those idiots to death, but it wasn’t my scene.”

“So now you do museums?” Mat internally scolds himself at the stupidity of what he just said.

“Something like that.” She chuckles. “I am a museum educator. I help provide interactive experiences from young children to adults. I focus on history. So no art.”

“Good, I’m glad I didn’t offend you within seconds of meeting you.”

The night continued on like this till they were both bleary eyed and yawning. Deciding to end it with a quick kiss on the cheek and exchanged numbers, she felt giddy as she walked into her room.

She knew she had to call Quinn.

Taglist: @tpwkstiles

A/N: Call with Quinn coming up next !

#nhl imagine #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #mat barzal x reader #Birdie Hughes au ☀️

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bookworm551 · 8 months

Text

Take the Edge Off | Part 6 | The Bet (1/2)

When you want to join Miguel for a mission, he places a bet with vague and undoubtedly devious stakes against you.

A/N: I am alive!!!! And I am so sorry this to forever to get done. I had to cut this part in half bc it was fixin to be 12k words long 😅 but the good news is that the next part is practically done and should be posted within a day. Anyways enjoy. If it feels rushed, that’s bc it is.

Warnings: full disclosure, there is no smut in this part (boooooooo) but! The next part is like 90% smut to make up for it :)

5.1k words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9

The loss of Earth-2319 changed the atmosphere of the compound. Everyone mourned together in their own ways, and everyone was itching to help catch the anomaly that had caused such massive destruction. Initially, you had been willing to honor Miguel's boundary of not going on missions together. However, when you had seen the recorded simulation of Earth-2319's demise, you felt sick to your stomach.

It had started as one person glitching. Soon after, another glitched, and then another, until everybody was was writhing on the ground in pain and one-by-one all began disappearing. All of the colors contorted in sharp flashes all across the cityscape. You had to look away as confused and terrorized screams tore through the air until there was nothing left except a black screen.

After that, you were determined to be on the team to take down the anomaly. He was smart and elusive, and Spider-Byte and Lyla were both working constantly to track him down, and once they could isolate his location, Miguel and his selection of Spiders would pounce.

Still, it was going to be a challenge getting Miguel to change his mind about letting you come. The day after watching the horrifying footage of Earth-2319, you found him in the control room alone and decided it was the best chance you were going to get to convince him.

He was busy typing away at his monitors when you slung yourself up onto the platform. "Always working," you commented as you approached him from behind. He didn't stop his work to acknowledge your presence. "What do you want?" He asked in a short tone. He had been sharper in his words and attitude to everyone after the incident, even you.

"I just want to talk," you told him casually. His fingers never stilled, and he grunted in response. "I'm working," he told you flatly. You sighed dramatically. "You're always working," you repeated. "When was the last time you slept?"

He didn't answer you for a moment. "None of your concern," he said finally. You raised an eyebrow at him. "That answer is concerning," you said skeptically. "It's starting to get late, why don't you get some rest or take a break?"

He huffed in irritation. "And do what? Sit around and chat with you?" He asked sarcastically. That stung a little bit. "Don't be mean," you told him as you crossed your arms defensively. "I know you have a lot on your plate, but that doesn't mean you can snap at me."

He didn't reply, and his fingers still worked tirelessly at his keyboards. You sighed again. He didn't seem to be in a very generous mood, but you were still determined to be on the team.

You moved to sit on the space next to his keyboard. Though his eyes never moved away from his screen, you could tell he was watching you from his peripheral vision. "We don't have to talk," you told him with in a mischievous tone. "We could do other things instead." Maybe that would soften his resolve. Maybe he just needed to release some tension before he would be receptive to your request.

His fingers finally paused, and though he still didn't look at you, you knew you had his attention. Slowly, as if not to startled him, you reached over and grabbed him by the arm. He let you pull him away from the screens to stand in front of you. He finally raised his eyes to meet yours as you slowly ran your hands up and down his forearms.

"It's okay to give yourself some rest," you told him quietly. "We can go back to mine." His face remained neutral, but he let out a deep sigh. "I'm trying to formulate a plan and a team for the anomaly," he stated, and you noted how exhausted he sounded.

"I could help with that," you offered smoothly, a sly smile spreading across your face. You could see the interest in his eyes at your statement. "Oh, really?" He asked, a barely-perceptible smirk pulling at his lips. "And how's that?"

You bit your lip for a second as you steeled yourself to say what you wanted to say. Given how touchy he had been lately, you weren't sure how he was going to react to you. "You could add me to the team," you finally offered.

Any hint of softness immediately evaporated from his face. "No," he said sternly. "I told you before that you're not allowed to come on missions with me anymore." You let out a disappointed sigh as he pulled his arms away from your hands. "This is different," you insisted. "Everyone wants in on this mission, and so do I."

"And I should let you because we sleep together?" He guessed flatly. You rolled your eyes with an annoyed huff. "No, you should let me because I'm good," you countered. "A lot of them are good," he argued, "and I'm not letting most of them join."

"No, you know I'm good," you countered. "You're going to need me." His eyes narrowed marginally. "I don't need anyone," he shot back. "I could do this alone, but it's smarter to take more people and only the best." He turned away from you to resume his work on his monitor again with a sour expression.

"I am one of the best," you insisted stubbornly. "You know that, too. I've got one of the highest mission success rates, and my stealth is unmatched." It was true. There may be other Spiders who have unique abilities, but you boasted some of the best work out of all of them.

"I could match you," Miguel stated arrogantly. You raised an eyebrow at his remark and said, "No, I don't think even the great Miguel O'Hara could find me if I didn't want to be found." Miguel's working fingers paused, and his head tilted just barely as a thought occurred to him.

"Care to find out?" He asked, his eyes sliding over to your face.

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What do you mean?" You asked slowly. He studied your face for a moment, and you noticed the corner of his lips quirk upward ever so subtly. "You think you can hide from me?" He questioned. "How about we put it to the test."

Your eyes lit up as you understood his challenge. "You want to try to find me?" You asked. "Like hide and seek?" He looked down at you with a disapproving furrow of his brow. "That's a childish comparison," he remarked. You smirked and replied, "But in essence, it's like hide and seek." He held your gaze for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and admitting, "Fine, like hide and seek but with stakes."

You couldn't resist the smile growing on your face. "If you can't find me, I get to go on the mission," you assumed. Miguel gave a slow nod. "Yes," he conceded, earning an eager grin from you. "Alright," you accepted, "and what's in it for you?" Miguel tilted his head as he looked down at you with a smirk.

"When I find you," he began in a low voice, "I get to do whatever I want to you."

You felt a little thrill flutter up in your stomach. Staring up at him, you could see in his eyes that he was imagining you in a hundred different ways of submission. What sort of things did he have in his mind to do to you? As much as you wanted to be on the anomaly operation, a part of you wanted to find out what would happened if you lost the bet.

"Deal."

Miguel's smirk grew fractionally as he gazed down at you quietly for a moment. "What happened to being busy?" You asked playfully. He gave a small shrug. "You wanted me to take a break," he pointed out. "We better make it worth it."

You smirked at his response as he turned away after a moment to look at his dimensional watch. "Pick a universe," he told you. You raised an eyebrow at him. "Any universe?" You clarified. He nodded and explained, "So you don't accuse me of cheating when I find you."

You rolled your eyes at his comment and thought back to all the different Earths you had been to. After a moment of contemplation, you said, "Earth-57218." It had been the universe you had traveled to on your very first mission, and it's strange beauty left you with a feeling of awe that had yet to be replicated.

Miguel typed in the code for Earth-57218, and the portal appeared before you both. "I'll give you 15 minutes before I go in after you," he said. "Then I'm going in after you." "15 minutes?" You repeated apprehensively. You had been expecting a little more of a head start than that.

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Is that too difficult?" He asked smugly.

Oh, he knew how to get to you, and you lifted your chin defiantly and shot back, "Please, if anything, that's too easy." You immediately regretted saying it because you knew exactly what he was going to say back. "Too easy?" He repeated, feigning surprise. "We'll make it 10 minutes, then."

Dammit.

"Fine," you said, trying to hide the regret behind your stubborn pride. Now, you were going to have to be smart about how to moved through the city. No sightseeing, you had to focus on beating Miguel. You typed in a 10-minute timer onto your gizmo before looking back up at Miguel. "And how long do you have to look before you lose?" You questioned.

He seemed amused by your question. "I won't lose," he responded confidently. "But if it makes you happy, then you'll have until dark." You quickly judged how long until it was dark and figured you had a little more than 2 hours to avoid being found.

"Alright," you agreed. "I'll see you then."

Miguel only watched with a smug grin as you started your timer, and with a quick wink, you stepped into the portal.

Earth-57218 was just as stunning as you remembered. The sky there was almost lilac in color, and the buildings seemed almost like paintings that covered the city. Even the sounds of traffic were almost musical. It was truly a beautiful world.

It took all of your concentration to keep from using up your 10-minute head start to just stare at the city. You immediately began swinging through the air, desperate to put as much distance between you and that portal. Miguel was undeniably good at finding his targets, and you wished again that you hadn't let your pride lessen the time you had to hide from him.

Something you had to keep in mind was the advantages that Miguel had over you. He had a keen sense of smell and a killer intuition, and while you were good at blending in, you were going to need to surround yourself with as many people as possible. Not a problem in a city like this.

Even in the early evening, the streets were packed full of people. You soared above them as you swung from building to building, thinking of places you could go to better conceal yourself from him. Beneath you, the pedestrians seemed trails of ants all bustling about. Where could you go to hide yourself?

You paused your swinging as you perched at the edge of a building to think. There were 8 minutes left on your timer, and you felt the pressure to win weigh down on you. Even from the great height you were at, the sounds of the city filled the air—people, sirens, horns, performers. You wished you could just spend some time exploring the city without the pressure of your bet.

With that thought, an idea occurred to you. "Hey, Lyla?" You called out, not sure if Miguel included the AI program in your new suit. To your surprise and relief, Lyla's yellow form appeared in front of you. "What can I do you for?" She asked cheerfully, looking at you through her heart-shaped glasses.

"I need to blend in," you told her. "Can I modify the suit for civilian wear?" Lyla shrugged. "Sure," she said causally. "What's your style? We have preppy, athletic, business, punk, even gothic." As she spoke, your suit disappeared and was replaced by several different outfits that matched the styles that Lyla had offered.

"Uh, athletic is good," you decided quickly, still conscious of the time ticking away on your watch. Your image flickered until you found yourself wearing what looked like leggings and a dry-fit shirt. Perfect. "Thanks, Lyla," you said gratefully. "Not a problem," she replied with a salute before disappearing.

You dropped down from the edge of the building, catching yourself at the last second before hitting the ground. When you landed in the streets, you immediately joined the current of people who didn't seem to pay you any mind. Keeping a watchful eye on your surroundings, you finally found what you were looking for.

Just like in your own city, there were stairs that descended into what you hoped would be a complex subway system. There was already a massive amount of people bustling about trying to get to their lines, and you noted with pleasant surprise that there were no turnstiles or payment stations. Completely free public transportation, just another reason to love Earth-57218.

You had no real destination in mind, so you just followed the crowd around you and stepped aboard the first train that arrived. Once the doors had closed, you checked your watch. 1:09 and counting. Now, you could only hope that this would work.

Looking up from your watch, you took in the sight of the people on the subway with you. A sea of faces filled the space around you, and you observed each and every one of them with interest. There was a girl across from you reading a book with long pink braids that contrasted sharply with her dark skin. Sitting next to her was an old woman with her large purse resting on her lap, her gray hair pulled back in a tight bun. A business man stood to your left, his clothes pressed and clean as he spoke on the phone in Mandarin. On your right, a young man and woman stood together. You noticed how the girl showed him something on her phone, and together, they started laughing quietly. The woman took her phone back, but the man was still staring at her face with a warm smile, and the love he felt for her was painfully evident in his eyes.

Seeing such a wide diversity of people all around all at different points in their life filled you with a strange sort of nostalgia. You felt like an imposter sitting amongst these normal civilians simply going about their lives. How different would your life be had you not been bitten by that spider all those years ago? Would you be in a successful career by now, not hindered by the endless fatigue that plagued you from your late-night hero work? Would you be carefree and fun if not for the responsibility that came with your power?

Looking back at the young couple, you felt a pang of longing in your chest. You had never been able to settle into a long-term relationship since becoming Spider-woman. The secrets, the late nights, the missed dates, it was all too much for any relationship to survive. Many times, you wondered how you would look at the end of your life—old, gray, and alone. Sometimes, you wondered if you would even make it that far, or if maybe one day, there would be a villain you just couldn't beat. All of these thoughts were like an ever-present cloud in your mind, and there was no way for you to ever communicate it to anyone else. There was nobody who understood what it meant to be you.

But Miguel did.

The thought was like a whisper in your ear. Miguel knew what you had sacrificed. He felt the suffocating weight of being a hero, too. He understood the loneliness that consumed you every day. You could tell yourself that you had only started this undefined, physical relationship out of boredom, that it was just because he was hot and you were horny, but deep down, at the bottom of that calloused thing you called a heart, you knew you longed for a sense of companionship with him.

But what could you have with him beyond the occasional late-night liaison? His work was just as important to him as yours was to you, and neither of you had the time to give to each other the way you wished you could. Besides, Miguel was even more guarded than you were, and other than the brief moments laying on the pillows together as your bodies were buzzing with endorphins, he never seemed willing to let down that guard for you.

You were startled out of your thoughts by the swell of people leaving the subway. Looking around, you realized you had passed all the stops and reached the end of the line, and it was about to start heading back down again. You quickly stood, still reeling from the disconcerting thoughts, and exited onto the platform.

You moved through the crowd as fast as you could without drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. Miguel was undoubtedly somewhere in the city looking for you, and you felt the pressure of his pursuit in your mind. You really wanted to go on that mission.

Now, you had maybe an hour and a half to kill before it was completely dark. What to do, oh what to do. Emerging from the subway stairs, you were immediately swept away by the bustling crowd. You followed down the sidewalk of a busy street full of honking cars. You were tempted to find a way to swing up to the top of the buildings, but you reasoned that Miguel would be looking for you there. On the ground, you were practically invisible.

That thought allowed you to relax somewhat. You had wanted to peruse the city to enjoy the unique beauty it possessed, and now, you allowed yourself to do so. You soaked in the vibrant colors and loud noises all around you. There were performers, tourists, residents, vendors, and many other different types of people everywhere. In many ways, it was like your city, but the subtle differences all around made it still feel like a new world.

You walked for what felt like miles. Though you enjoyed the sights of the city, you still kept a watchful eye on the skyscrapers around for any sight of Miguel. A part of you wished he was there with you just to enjoy the city alongside you, but you knew that was ridiculous. Miguel didn't do fun things, and to do them with you would be too close to having an actual relationship, something he had reminded you several times he did not have time for.

You shook yourself from your thoughts with a sigh. You seriously needed to get a grip. You had been perfectly fine with just hooking up before. Why were you all of a sudden plagued with these thoughts of Miguel?

You answered yourself silently by glancing down at the web shooters, now disguised as thick bracelets, that he had given you. His gift to you had been so generous and unexpected that it made you think that perhaps he saw you as more than just a fuck buddy. In fact, something about your last encounter in general made you rethink everything.

Maybe it was the vulnerability he showed you after the loss of Earth-2319. He had come straight to you for comfort, and even if it was through sex, you still felt that it had meant something. Additionally, he had gotten a glimpse into your personal life by seeing your home, sleeping in your actual bed, not just your little standard-issue apartment at HQ.

And the looks—the softening of his eyes, the subtle smiles on his lips, the one laugh he had given you—each one was tucked away in your memory like a collection of rare, sacred artifacts. Each was made precious through the knowledge that he wasn't like that with anyone else, and you never wanted to stop collecting them.

No, you shouldn't be thinking things like that. You needed to stop. You needed to escape from him, and not just in the way you were doing now by hiding, but also in your mind. There was something about the mundane that made you yearn for a simple life, and you realized how much you would like to live it with him. Surrounding yourself with these blissfully ignorant people was seriously infecting you with this inexplainable melancholy. You needed to get your mind off of these brooding thoughts, and you knew just the way.

The sun was dwindling towards the horizon now, and still, there was no Miguel in sight. You had wandered around the city for a surprising amount of time, though to you, it seemed only a brief few minutes. If you could avoid him for maybe 30 more minutes, you would win the bet. You reasoned that 30 minutes was hardly enough time for Miguel to find you now that you had taken the subway to the other end of the city and wandered around for over an hour and a half.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, you slipped into a side alley. You were about to call for Lyla again to change your suit, but as you thought about what you wanted, the suit itself took the initiative to change for you. You stood in awe for a second as your whole body transformed from athletic wear to your spider suit, and you wondered again for the millionth time why Miguel thought to give you such an amazing piece of technology.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts of Miguel again, you scaled the side of the building all the way to the top. From there, you leapt off and began swinging with no particular direction in mind. Up here, you were able to forget about those thoughts that plagued you down below. The wind rushing around you freed your mind of all concerns for Miguel and gave you a sense of confidence that only swinging from building to building could give you.

You finally pulled yourself up to the top of the highest building you could see. You settled down on the edge with your legs dangling over the side of the building. The sun was halfway set already, and the sky was painted brilliantly with pinks, violets, and orange.

It was incredible, truly incredible that you were able to be there, to be in another dimension. You didn't ever express your gratitude to Miguel for letting you join the Spider Society and allowing you to access places like this. Lately, you had been taking it for granted, but as you watched the sun dwindle beneath the horizon, you were filled with a deep sense of gratefulness.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and your premonitory senses screamed at you to jump. Without a second thought, you quickly pushed yourself off the building, and right where you had been sitting, a bright orange web appeared.

As you twisted through the air, you caught Miguel's large figure leaping after you. "Sight seeing?” He called out to you as he shot another web at your figure. “Shit," you cursed quietly to yourself. You had been so close to winning. How had he found you out here?

You didn't let yourself dwell on the thought for too long since Miguel was swinging towards you with all of the focused determination of a predatory animal. You let your instincts take over as you hurdled through the air, narrowly avoiding his webs. You tried using your surroundings to your advantage—swinging around halfway-built buildings, turning at the last second through a construction zone, crawling up glass windows you knew he couldn't stick to. Nothing worked, though, and he stayed close behind you.

In that moment, your heart was pounding with the thrill of his chase, and you felt almost giddy at being able to swinging around the city like this without the danger of fighting someone. Miguel of all people was the one who reminded you of how much fun it was to be Spider-woman sometimes.

You saw a bridge ahead that crossed over one of the many channels in the city. Back on your world, you loved perching atop the numerous, large bridges to watch the sunset, so it shouldn't have surprised you that you instinctively webbed over to it, swinging underneath where countless cars were crossing over the water.

"You can't run forever," Miguel shouted behind you. Under your mask, you smiled. He was right. He had found you, and even though the sun had receded behind the horizon, the brilliant twilight still lit up the city, and you recognized that he had won the bet. You sighed in resignation, wishing that you could've gone on the mission to capture the anomaly. Still, you were going to honor your agreement, so instead of releasing your web to continue fleeing from Miguel, you let yourself swing back towards him.

Miguel was still quickly hurdling towards you. With you falling backwards and him moving forward, your webs actually caught together, and your bodies began circling around each other as your webs twisted around like a rope.

You stared at him as you spun around each other, and he stared back at you wordlessly. As your webs wrapped around each other, your bodies grew closer together until Miguel caught you around your waist and pulled you to him. There was a moment of stillness between you as your webs had now wrapped all the way down to your wrists, and you allowed your suit to retract enough to reveal your half-smirking face.

You wanted Miguel to show his face, too, but he just stared at yours for a few quiet seconds before your webs slowly began unraveling. Instead of continuing to let himself spin away from you, Miguel dropped down to the ground below right next to the channel. His suit retracted away from his face as well, and he was looking up at you with a triumphant expression.

Instead of releasing your web to fall down beside him, you pulled your lower body up above your head so that you were upside-down in a characteristic Spider pose. Slowly, you slid down your web until your upside-down face was level with his right-side-up one.

"I won," he told you in a low voice, a faint smile on his lips. You hummed quietly in response. "Really, I surrendered," you argued cheekily. You knew that he had you beat, but you couldn't let him know that. "The conditions were if I found you," he explained, and you could tell he was amused by your attempts to rationalize losing. "And I found you."

"Mmmm, I think they were if you caught me," you countered. "Which you didn't. I surrendered." Miguel raised his eyebrows as he pretended to entertain your argument. "Oh, really?" He said, and you nodded solemnly at him. He took a step forward and gently grabbed your head in his hands. "I caught you now," he murmured quietly, his smirking lips appearing like they were turned downward due to you looking at him upside-down.

"Damn," you whispered, "I guess you did." His thumbs brushed across your cheeks for a second as he studied your face quietly. As the two of you stared at each other, the bustling noises of the city seemed to fade away. The only thing you could hear now was your heartbeat in your ears. You could feel your face growing warm, and you didn't know if it was from being upside-down or from the way his fingers traced over your skin. Finally, in the dying violet light around you, Miguel kissed you.

His lips were a familiar feeling, yet your body reacted like it was the first time. Maybe it was the effects of the adrenaline from his chase, or maybe it was your own stupid emotions getting the better of you. Either way, you felt a fluttering in your chest that was hard to ignore.

As Miguel kissed you, you forgot all about the thoughts that had plagued you earlier. You didn't think about the fears you had with living a double life. You didn't think about the yearning you felt for a connection. You didn't even think about how impossible it was for you to be with him. All of your attention was focused on the way his lips moved against yours.

Finally, he broke away from you, leaving a pleasant hum running through your body. "How did you find me?" You asked quietly, breaking the charged silence between you. One corner of his lips quirked upward. "I'm the best," he replied in an arrogant tone, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes.

His thumbs were still brushing across your skin, and softly, he added, "It's easy when it's you. I could find you anywhere."

His words knocked out any capacity you had to think. You hung there in a flustered stupor, unable to come up with any response to him. Despite your lack of rational thought, you still felt a vague nagging in the back of your mind reminding you that this couldn't last. Why did it have to be him out of all the people in the multiverse for you to feel this way toward?

However, your apprehensive feeling disappeared again when he pressed another soft kiss to your lips. It was shorter this time, but it still left you smiling like a fool. "I still think I should go on the mission," you told him. Miguel gave a small huff of amusement. "Nice try," he replied. "You lost. Now, enough stalling."

You felt a nervous thrill flutter in your stomach as you remembered his conditions of the bet. I get to do whatever I want to you. He stepped away from you to type in his home world into his gizmo while you sighed in resignation. Turning over, you dropped down to the ground beside him as the portal appeared in front of you.

"After you," he said smugly. You rolled your eyes. "Such a gentleman," you huffed under your breath as you stepped into the portal with him following closely behind you.

#spider man #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel ohara smut #atsv miguel #miguel x you #spider man 2099 #spider man across the spider verse #into the spider verse

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hanbxnn · 1 year

Note

girlll,, what about this idea where we all know mammon is teased by his brothers and seen as incompetent or always messing things up here and there. but the fact that he’s the second most powerful demon of the bros shows, he’s not some baby that always needs saving. his brothers are teasing him and mc stands up for him, he appreciates it and later on that night dotes and kisses on them in thanks. but it’s like a switch flips and he starts getting rough, and turning mc to putty in his hands to also let them know that he isn’t incapable and how powerful he really is but rarely shows

enough is enough

paring: mammon x gn!reader tags: hurt/comfort (?), slight angst, swearing, kisses, suggestive, sexual tension, love bites, dom!mammon notes: dom mammon has me hdfhwhedihwgb if the responses for this is good i might turn it into a longer fic c:

it was infurtiating.

to listen to the same shit the brothers spout every night at the dinner table as if it was a normal everyday occurrence.

the grip on your spoon tightened by the second without you even noticing, to hear such degrading and pointless words over what should be a peaceful and joyful time of catching up with one another.

mindless rambles immediately quietens the moment you slam your hand down onto the table, unable to take another second within the suffocating conversation.

"don't you guys think you're going a bit too far? the jokes stopped being funny after the first time you guys said it." you lifted your head to scan across the room, watching everyone's shocked expression turn towards you.

"even if mammon has the patience to listen this, i really don't have it in me to entertain your guys bullshit." you cleared your throat as you stood up, pushing the chair back as you glanced down at your half eaten plate of food.

"sorry, i've lost my appetite. you guys can eat my leftovers, if not, put it in the fridge and i'll eat it if i get hungry later. i'm calling it early for tonight." not bothering to spare anyone one last glance before you made your way out of the dining hall.

it was only when you got back to your room were you to finally able to take some deep breathes to calm down.

you weren't the type to get angry often but it just goes to show how much you had to endure to get up to this point. you couldn't even begin to imagine what mammon was feeling seeing as how the time you had spent with the brothers were merely a single fraction of the time he had.

you shook your head at the thought, deciding to check up on him a little later after you've cooled down enough to let you talk rationally without your emotions taking over.

thinking that it'd be best to freshen up first, you headed into the shower in hopes that by standing under the hot steam, you'd be able to clear your head a little.

after the shower, you hummed a soft tune as you put on your pajamas, glancing at the time and wondering when it would be best to make your way to see mammon for the night.

though your thoughts were put on a halt when a knock at your door catches your attention.

'speak of the devil and he shall appear' you thought to yourself amusingly as you opened the door to reveal none other than the mammon himself.

"come in." you smiled as you lead him inside.

mammon, being the familiar guest he was, sits down on the edge of your bed and only gives you a moment to close the door before tugging you to sit beside him once you were within reach.

you allow the silence to fall within the room first, waiting as mammon pieces together what he wanted to say in his mind without giving him the sense of any urgency.

just as his thoughts falls into place, he takes your hands within his, lifting your gaze until they met with the sincerity of his. "thank you. thank you for stickin' up for me."

you couldn't tell what broke your heart more, the fact that mammon seemed to be speaking so soft with hidden questions unasked behind his words, questions like 'why' and the elaboration of your whole reasoning for your outburst, or his genuine gratitude for something that was a given.

you gave out a soft sigh, squeezing mammon's hand as you brush your thumb over the insides of his wrists.

"you don't have to thank me for doing what i should have done a long time ago," you continue to speak as mammon begins to tug you into his embrace, pulling you onto his lap where he could bring his arms around your body. "i know you say it doesn't bother you but that still doesn't make it right."

your fingers untangle from his, bringing your hands up to brush through mammon's hair, playing with the shorter strands that lay at the back of his neck.

"compared to you guys, i'm not strong at all but i still have the power to say something if i don't believe the situation is right."

silence falls over the both of you as you watch as mammon just gaze longingly into your eyes. his replies to you were received in soft patient kisses that gradually begin to turn feverish in nature.

you gasp into his lips at the sudden change of tension in the air. before you could process what was happening, mammon had already flipped the position, pressing your back firmly onto the bed as he continues his trails of kisses along your face.

"yer have no idea how much it turns me on to see you stick up for me, it's cute really." he mumbles against your collar, his voice rumbling deep into your core, creating a heated ache in your lower abdomen.

"i think you forget sometimes that i'm the second eldest but it's alright, my love. i'll be sure to remind yer while i pay back my thanks with interest."

as he strips you of your clothes, his body cages over yours, holding you down with just enough force that you could wiggle your way out of, if you had really wanted to, but his heated gaze leaves you pliant and docile in his hands.

the sudden switch of his usual jokingly playful side felt like whiplash, taking the oxygen in the room and leaving you almost breathless.

all you could do with pant heavily, holding in soft whimpers as mammon drags his teeth along the side of your neck.

this was one of the very rare moments in where you could feel the amount of power that mammon really has.

the fact that he wasn't even in his demon form but solely exerting his dominance through his presence alone brought shivers down your body.

you felt like a mere puppet in mammon's hands with the way you moved and bend at his command. with just one swift movement, he molds you in the position he wanted.

his tongue mapped around your body as if he was following a treasure map, marking down coordinates with blossoming love bites.

as he hooks his hands around your knees, bringing them up to your chest as he forces your body to bare itself just for his eyes, he leaves light pecks along your cheek before meeting your eyes that were blown with lust as he rocks his erection against your crotch.

"deep breaths, pretty baby. i'm gonna take my time ravishin' yer tonight and remind ya why they call me mammon."

#obey me #obey me angst #obey me fluff #obey me smut #but its not quite smut #mammon x reader #mammon x y/n #mammon x you #anon #anon request #ky's delusions

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it-happened-one-fic · 9 months

Text

Waiting For You - Jack

Author Notes: Haha! Jack fic in time for the Portfest event! That aside, this fic actually doesn't have anything to do with Porfest and, furthermore, I should not be allowed to write fics while listening to 80s ballads and feeling sad. I wrote this fic while listening to "Right Here Waiting" by Richard Marx and, as per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ Angst with comfort/ Fluff/ sfw/ Can probably taken as platonic even though I wrote this with romance in mind

Word count: 1871

It was a strange thing. To ponder if you were truly loveable or if everyone just simply accepted your presence because they had little choice in the matter. Because you were present, it was easier to just accept you rather than just shun you.

Maybe it was because you were useful to them. You knew Crowley used you, so who was to say others didn’t?

And maybe you really were only worthwhile when you were being useful. When you were facing overblots, giving others a place to stay and hide from dorm drama, or making it so they could stay in this school by forming a half of a student.

They were bitter thoughts, but sometimes, in weak moments, they came. And when they came, they seemed to devour you.

To swallow you whole and threaten to destroy everything you’d built up for yourself in this strange world of magic.

The friends you’d made, the dorm you’d been repairing, the home you’d slowly built for yourself. You suddenly found yourself questioning it all and wondering if you would ever return home to where things had at least pretended to make more sense.

Where you weren’t burdened with expectations and the lingering fear that the only reason anyone stayed close to you was because they felt they had to.

And did you even want to get home? It was a terrifying question to have. Especially when you feared that the people you’d come to love so much—the people who made you want to stay here with them rather than go home—might not care for you in the same way.

“If we leave them be, they’ll never make it.”

“They’ve saved my life; I should help them at least once.”

Were these the thoughts your friends had? That without them, you couldn’t make it? That they had to repay a favor?

It felt horrible to question others and their reasoning. Did it really matter why they lingered nearby? Wasn’t their presence enough for you? Or were you really so greedy that they had to genuinely care about you?

The sadness that suffused your entire being seemed to be beyond anything you’d felt in the past.

You were lost, and, now that you had realized you were living merely by the grace of others, you were terrified.

It was hard to believe that they cared for you when you could have such selfish thoughts. Why would they, after all? Who would care for and love someone who questioned whether or not their friends, who’d been with them through near life-and-death situations, cared?

But question them you did. Because they didn’t willingly go through those situations. They’d just been at the wrong place at the wrong time. And being by your side often seemed to be the wrong place, given how many things had gone wrong since you’d come to this school.

Your hands gripped at your legs tightly, your tears muffled by the way you curled in on yourself as you questioned if perhaps your presence here as something from outside this world had somehow caused a domino effect that resulted in the overblots.

It was an illogical thought, but one that plagued you and had become the root of all the fears that were now assaulting you as you cried within your dilapidated home. Alone.

It was almost a blessing that Grim had gone off to wander around the campus and left you alone. Because while you were lonely and did want reassurance that someone cared, you didn’t want to be seen like this.

Crying over fears that you had no proof of and that were an insult to the very idea of the friendships you mourned. Because if you were truly friends with the young men here at this school, you wouldn’t be questioning them in such a fashion.

Questioning everything and everyone like the uselessly emotional person you were. You couldn’t blame people if they didn’t like you, because why would they? You didn’t even like yourself right now.

A small logical part of you whispered that this was all just brought on by how exhausted you were, mentally and emotionally. But did that really matter? Exhaustion was just an excuse and didn’t change the fact that you were behaving like a small child right now. Hardly fitting behavior for a Prefect who took care of everyone else.

Your throat ached with restrained sobs that you forced yourself to keep muffled should someone enter. And, like a cruel answer to both your hopes and fears, someone did enter.

The front door opened downstairs, and you heard them long before you saw them, their familiar voice calling out your name in an almost curious tone, “Y/n?”

Jack. It was Jack.

Dear Jack, who was so like a stalwart companion and actively did his best to protect and look out for you. Like so many others, Jack had done so much for you.

You didn’t want him to see you like this. So broken and filled with ungrateful thoughts, even though everyone, including him, had done so much for you.

Your entire form tensed, somehow curling tighter on itself as you willed your tears to vanish like the sun behind a cloud. Praying that your eyes wouldn’t appear puffy by the time he reached where you crouched in your room, somehow unable to bring yourself to hide even further.

It was almost like there was some small part of you begging to be found and comforted while the rest of you recoiled at the very idea of it.

You heard his footsteps on the stairs, and then the door to your room creaked open. You felt yourself freeze even as he spoke once more.

“Y/-” Your name was cut off in the middle, and you heard a sharp intake of breath that caused your fingers to twitch before you slowly looked up with a forced, wavering smile and made eye contact with the young man who stared at you from the doorway.

Jack stared at you in shock, with something akin to horror in his golden eyes that were now wide, and he stood frozen in the now open doorway.

“Hi Jack, how… How are you doing?” You managed a fakely cheerful tone, as if that could hide the fact that you’d just been sobbing your eyes out for senseless reasons that you couldn’t bear to tell Jack. Not when he’d already done so much to help and asked for little to nothing in return.

You didn’t get to say anything else as the young man darted across the room to where you sat on your bed and knelt, his hands finding your tear-stained cheeks even as you attempted to pull away and hide your face. “I’m fine, Jack. Really it’s-”

“You’re not fine,” His tone was firm, and the way he was looking up at you from where he knelt on the ground brooked no argument. And something about that steady gaze of his had you nodding and biting your lip as the emotions started to overwhelm you once more.

Your eyes filled with tears that slowly began to stream down your cheeks before you gave way. Sliding off the edge of your bed and all but collapsing into Jack’s secure embrace as he held you tightly to him. As if he could hold you together even as you tried to crack into a billion pieces under the pressure of your own thoughts.

And he sat there with you, rubbing your back soothingly and not saying anything as you sobbed into his shoulder without explanation. He didn’t ask any questions but just accepted you, as he so often did. Serving as a support against the maelstrom of emotions you were currently experiencing.

Guilt, fear, sorrow, and even a little heartbreak. It was like you were mourning for all the things that you hadn’t let yourself consider since coming to Twisted Wonderland. It had been a long time coming, but you’d finally cracked under the pressure of everything and given way to your own feelings.

Slowly, you calmed down, though. Your sobs gave way to quiet sniffles before you leaned back and wiped your face as Jack met your gaze. He was still quiet as he watched you, continuing even now to rub your back in the most soothing manner possible.

His ears were down, and worry shone in his eyes, but he waited. Waited until you were ready.

“I’m sorry,” Your apology was mumbled, almost like your voice was still buried under the weight of all the emotions you’d just let loose, but Jack simply shook his head.

“It’s fine… Do you feel better now?” You nodded quietly, feeling oddly small in this moment, as you shifted backwards to give both him and yourself some room as the embarrassment and slight mortification of having just bawled on his shoulder like a small child set in.

But if Jack was judging you, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just continued to watch you carefully. Almost like he was trying to see where you were hurt even though there was no physical injury, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head again, “No… maybe later.” The two of you fell silent, you resting in his presence and Jack just sitting there and silently supporting you, even at a distance. Waiting until you were ready and willing to talk to him. Until then, he would be there waiting for you.

You glanced hesitantly at him, meeting his gaze once more, and he looked at you almost expectantly, waiting for whatever it was you had to say.

“Can I… Lean on you?” It was an odd request in many ways, but it didn’t seem to phase him. In fact, he just nodded and held out one arm, fully prepared for you to cuddle up against his side and lean on him in exhaustion.

And as you leaned against him, tucked up against his side, safe and sound, you felt yourself slowly begin to relax and then, slowly but surely, smile despite yourself.

You had no idea how you'd questioned the people of this world... how everyone... how Jack cared for you. Because wasn’t this what love was? Sitting with someone, comforting them, and waiting until they were ready to talk to you.

And it was nice to let yourself rely on him for support, and there was a sort of catharsis to having finally let all of those messy emotions out in the form of tears.

You would have to talk about it. You couldn’t just sob on Jack and then not explain it. And it would be hard to put all of those messy feelings into words, but you would. And when you did, you somehow knew that Jack would accept it.

Because even if you doubted and needed reassurance sometimes, it was a simple truth that Jack cared for you. And in the end, if it was with Jack, you knew you could face those emotions once more without drowning in them this time.

Because if Jack could wait for you like this, then you knew he cared for you just as much as you adored him. And that was enough.

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cloudcountry · 1 year

Text

like real people do: diavolo

they've seen the world shift and change throughout their long, long lives, but if they could they would have given it all up just to be with you.

~~~~~

I could not ask you where you came from I could not ask and neither could you. Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips We could just kiss like real people do.

~~~~~

The stack of paperwork on Diavolo’s desk never seems to decrease in size. He sighs, tearing his gaze away from the pile and towards the packet currently in front of him. He can briefly make out something about the economy in the outskirts of the Devildom and how their markets don’t have as many laborers, and he feels a headache coming on. Everyone looks to him. He’s still an incredibly young demon, and yet the weight of an entire realm is on his shoulders. It isn’t hard to see why he’s slowly deteriorating, nor can he be blamed for it.

Right?

He wishes he could have fun like those rowdy demon brothers do, going off on adventures with MC and visiting sweets shops and being able to talk to each other about things. (Even though Lucifer always said siblings weren’t as fun as Diavolo thought they were, he had to disagree. What he wouldn’t do for a cute little sister or brother to spoil and spend time with. Unfortunately, that was not his reality. His reality was stacks of paper and stuffy suits and formal events and speeches that were meant to rally demonkind together.)

A soft knock at the door snaps Diavolo out of his thoughts, and he sighs.

“You may enter.” he calls out, eyes bleary and unfocused as they turn back to the packet.

“My Lord.” Barbatos bows as he enters, looking as energetic as always, “MC has requested an audience with you.”

Diavolo almost twists his ankle when he jumps up, eyes brightening immediately. A few papers go flying and his pen clutters to the floor. Barbatos does not look amused as the important paperwork is scattered across the office, but Diavolo cannot bring himself to care.

“My Lord, have you finished any of your work?” he asks, stooping down to pick up as many misplaced documents as he can.

“Yes, yes of course! So much work is done! Does my hair look alright?” he frantically looks for a reflective surface, patting down what he thinks may be unruly strands.

“Your hair looks fine as always, My Lord.” Barbatos stands, placing the stack of papers carefully on his desk, “I have served them tea before I came to get you. They talked very fondly about your trip together to Bayside Bonanza Worlds of Wonder. It seems they want to take you out again, though I myself am unsure if I should grant them the pleasure after what happened.”

The last part of what Barbatos says goes flying straight over Diavolo’s head.

Diavolo has to hold back a booming laugh at that. It’s like his heart is soaring with glee at their proposition. He has to remind himself daily that just because he doesn’t have the brothers doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anyone. He has Barbatos, Lucifer, and them. (Most of all, them. But he could never admit that to himself. It seems…selfish.)

”What wonderful news!” he beams, crossing his arms over his chest in a vain attempt to contain the affection threatening to bubble up and explode within him, “Please, escort me to them at once!”

“As you wish, Young Master.” Barbatos bows, turning to lead him out of his office, “Though I must warn you, I will still hold your accountable for the work you need to do.”-

That comment would normally sink his mood immensely, but the promise of them keeps his heart light. It’s a mystery as to what he would do without them, but hopefully he’ll never have to find out.

(Hopefully they’ll be around forever. Another ideal, added to his lofty tower.)

The hallways all blur together as he rushes through the palace, Barbatos following a safe distance behind him as his heart pounds so hard in his chest that he hears it in his head. He knows where they are, he knows they’re getting closer with every step, and yet he’s so, so greedy for a sight of them.

Perhaps he throws open the door with a little too much force, because the first thing he sees of them is their jump of surprise. Their face looks unbelievably shocked, but before he can utter a single apology they’re laughing and jumping out of their seat for an entirely different reason. Their arms are around his neck before he realizes it, and they’re hanging off him with a huge smile and lots of chatter that he can’t even decipher because they’re finally touching him in the way he’s wanted them to for far too long.

(He likes to tell himself that anyone would do. That any physical contact would be enough to sanitate his desire for a casual relationship like this. But no, it couldn’t be just anyone, not after he’s had a taste of them.)

“Well, hello there!” he beams, crushing them against his chest with the biggest smile he’s ever worn, “I’m so glad you could make it! I hope I’m not taking up too much of your time-”

“Oh, no! You aren’t, I promise!” They laugh, looking absolutely ecstatic to be wholly encompassed by him, “I managed to sneak away from Mammon and the others, just for now.”

Mammon. The others. Oh, he gets so jealous when he hears those brothers mentioned. Diavolo doesn’t want to ruin that precious smiling face though, so he covers his flaming envy with his own smile. It doesn’t stop him from holding them even tighter, though, but before he can really indulge in them, Barbatos enters the room with a scowl. He’s clearly upset at Diavolo for not doing his work and running through the palace like a dog, and the second he sees them hanging off of the Demon Prince he gestures for them to get off. They pout and stick their tongue out at Barbatos, which makes Diavolo laugh so loudly he thinks the castle walls might have rattled. They are by far the only human who would ever dare to make such a mocking gesture at a demon, and that’s so endearing.

Before Barbatos can peel them off himself, though, they start loosening their grip. He gives the human one last squeeze before setting them down, resisting the urge to pout just as they had at the loss of contact.

“I’m delighted to have you, MC!” he smiles, offering them his elbow to make up for the interrupted hug, “Allow me.”

They swoon dramatically and take his arm, allowing him the pleasure of walking them over to the small tea table set in the center of the room. He fixes the positioning of their chair for them (and internally giggles about how they were so excited they almost knocked the ancient piece of furniture over when they threw themselves at him) and gestures for them to sit.

“Thank you.” they say, looking right at home in the Demon Lord’s Castle.

Diavolo ignores the giddy feeling that wells up in his chest at how domestic this feels as he sits down across from them.

“What brings you here, MC?” he asks, setting his intertwined hands on the table.

“Well…” they do the same, clearly teasing him for his formalities, “I wanted to discuss some business with you.”

“Ah, Barbatos has made me aware of your plans to...how did you word it?” he hums, amused at their choice of words that he absolutely remembers.

“Take you out. Like a date.” they grin, radiating smugness that's very becoming of Solomon’s student.

Diavolo wishes they could have this conversation away from Barbatos, who pours their tea as though he isn’t listening. He envies Barbatos’s ability to be present but act as though he couldn’t be more removed—Diavolo thinks his life would be a bit easier if he could do the same. Except he can’t, because he has stacks of paperwork in his office that scream his name every night and make him toss and turn until he gives up and stares at his dark purple canopy and waits for morning. It would be easier to sleep if they were there, he thinks, and he has half a mind to ask Barbatos to make a portal to their room in the House of Lamentation, where they are no doubt sleeping peacefully, so he can drag them into his arms and finally, finally have a good night’s rest.

A rest where he can be Diavolo, with no responsibilities and no crushing weight of an entire realm. Where he can be the demon that takes them out on dates without the entire Devildom scrutinizing them. Where he can be the demon that tries to win the brothers over for their permission to date them (instead of them being too intimidated to tell him no.) Where he can be the demon that walks them to RAD without stares and whispers following them on campus. Where he can just be the demon they love, without consequence or obstacle or any deep rooted hatred.

The world doesn’t work like that.

“Lord Diavolo...?” they wave their hand in front of his face, a concerned expression on theirs, “Are you alright? You just zoned out-”

“Fine, I’m fine MC.” he coughs into his hand, hoping his embarrassment doesn’t show, “Ah...yes, I would be happy to accompany you to Bayside Bonanza Worlds of Wonder.”

“Without the...bump in the road?” they laugh awkwardly, wincing as they catch Barbatos’s eye.

Right, that. Even though that man had been of no danger to Diavolo, if anything had happened to him Barbatos would have had both their head and Belphegor’s. He always thought human beings were beautiful, just like them, but that had been his first exposure to how wicked human beings could truly be. They do coexist with demons already, but it’s a parasitic relationship where the demons take and take and the humans only get worse and worse. Demons suck the life out of humans, they consume them whole, desires and all. It’s a terrible thing, and even though Diavolo knows he’s a demon himself and that he’s not exempt from these things, he wants to do whatever he can to change it.

They only inspire him, spur him on, make his lofty ideals seem possible.

“Without the bump in the road.” he whispers, reaching across the table to offer them his hand.

They take it without a second thought, and their lack of hesitation is as amusing as it is reassuring. They really aren’t scared of it, are they? It’s not just about Diavolo being a demon anymore, or about him being demon royalty. It’s about the responsibilities being close to him will bring. It’s about the fate of two entire realms, resting in their hands, and he wants to ask if it’s as exhausting for them as it is for him but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t feel like he has to, because with them, he is stronger.

Diavolo has always been concerned about what his spoiled upbringing did to his character, whether he forced Barbatos to stay with him or whether he imposed his will a little too hard onto Lucifer during meetings. Now he has to worry about what it will do to them, and their bright smile that he wants to keep all to himself. It’s why he holds himself back, refusing to ask them to accompany him anywhere, but their steady acceptance and even them seeking him out voluntarily has his restraint dangling by a thread.

It won’t be long until he leans in, souls flaring with desire, and captures them. It doesn’t matter what part of him he takes first, as long as he can drag his mouth along the soft patches of skin and make the flesh scream Lord Diavolo was here.

Guilt crashes over him the second the desire subsides, and he feels the need to apologize to them almost immediately. What is he thinking? He’s so jealous of the brothers that get to crowd them every day that he’s losing his mind. He wants to be that close to them, he wants to be able to waltz into their room and sit on their bed and play Mononoke Land but he can’t, and he’s so very sorry.

Being a demon and having desires is who he is, and yet he finds himself apologizing for it every chance he gets.

He doesn’t want to scare them.

“You’ve never scared me.” they whispered, brow furrowed as they trailed a hand down his face, “Diavolo, I promise you’ve never ever scared me.”

It was the first time they told him they weren’t scared.

The first time they’d said his name.

It was the first time someone held him that gently, and the first time someone had treated him like a friend.

Diavolo finds himself staring at them again, and when they squeeze his hand he squeezes it back.

He has only one desire now.

And damn it, that desire is to be able to love them.

#auburn's fics <3 #om: like real people do <3 #obey me angst #obey me x reader #obey me #om x reader #om! x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #om diavolo x reader #diavolo x reader #om! diavolo x reader

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riality-check · 1 year

Text

part two of angsty soulmate things, a continuation of this

There's an after.

It's not that Eddie isn't grateful that there is one. He's like most people only in the sense that he would rather be alive than dead. And while being eaten by demonic bats is a very metal way to go, it's slow, and it hurt like hell.

Not worse than cutting the string, but it still hurt.

Eddie isn't ungrateful for the after. He's just confused as to how he got here in the first place, and he's scared because there isn't supposed to be one.

But he doesn't want to think about that. That train of thought makes him nauseous, and he's barely been able to eat anything as it is.

Hospital lights, he thinks instead, are a constant. They're the same everywhere, that bright, sterile white that makes people look sicker in a place that's supposed to make them healthy. In the chair next to his bed, for example, Steve looks like he should be admitted himself.

His skin is paler than Eddie's ever seen it, the bags under his eyes could more aptly be called suitcases, and, most concerningly, his hair is flat.

Steve "the Hair" Harrington's hair looks lifeless. Eddie really screwed this up, didn't he?

He wonders if there's adverse effects to cutting the string. Other than the pain, of course. Long-term stuff is probably a better way to put it.

He tries to remember back when Mama did it, but that was a while ago. Maybe seven years now? His recollection's a bit fuzzy, but he remembers her being almost sick, even after the pain stopped.

Then again, Mama was always sick, one way or another. So even if she's the only example he has, she's probably not the best one.

Steve stares at Eddie with wide, red-rimmed eyes. He really does look like hell.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, to crack a joke, to do anything to make Steve look a little better, but Steve beats him to the punch.

"What happened?" he croaks.

"I died," Eddie says. It's not a lie. Wayne told him, when he first woke up, that it took three rounds of CPR to get his heart started again.

"Bullshit," Steve says.

"It's not bullshit."

"I know your heart stopped," Steve says. "But you didn't die."

He holds up his hand, and Eddie sees, stark black on his sickly pale skin, the remnants of a string curled around his finger. Black like a brand, like a tattoo, whatever.

It's there, and everyone knows black means death. Permanent death.

(Or, if they're a nutcase or a gullible middle schooler, a dagger. But normal people don't believe in those, so normal people don't ever consider that a possibility.

Hell, even Eddie wouldn't have if he didn't do it himself.)

"What. Happened."

If Eddie weren't in a hospital bed, he'd come up with a better lie. He'd say something about the bats, or the Upside Down, or, hell, he'd blame it on Vecna.

Nancy came in and told him the bastard's dead, so. It's not like he'd be able to counter it.

But Eddie is exhausted, mentally and physically. It's finally setting in, after the first few minutes of being awake, how tired he is, and how much pain he's in.

So, instead of lying, Eddie just says, "I'm sorry."

Steve frowns, confused. "What do you mean you're sorry? Eddie, I just want to know what happened. I'm scared out of my mind because this shouldn't be happening. You're alive. We should still have a string."

Eddie sees, clear as day, how he can use this as an out. He could lie so easily, could blame it on some occurrence within that parallel world. Steve would nod and accept it, not because he's stupid, but because literally anything, so long as it's awful, is possible there.

But Eddie thinks beyond the now very often, though most people are surprised by that. He thinks about how Steve will want to be with him; every time Eddie thought about his soulmate, the string appeared, so Steve was constantly thinking about him. He thinks about them five, ten, twenty years down the line. He thinks about forgetting the lie, about being inconsistent, about Steve pushing and pushing like he seems to do sometimes until Eddie breaks and tells the truth.

No. Finding out then would be so much worse.

Eddie has an out, but he's choosing not to run. Last time, that was a terrible decision, but no one, except for Wayne, really, has ever said that Eddie was smart.

So, he tells the truth.

"I cut it," he says.

Steve continues to stare at him. "What?"

"I cut the string," Eddie says. "With a dagger."

"Those don't exist."

"They do. One showed up for me. I used it to cut the string because I thought I was going to die, and I didn't want you to feel it," Eddie says.

"You're lying," Steve says, voice wavering, face crumpling.

"If I were lying, I'd do it better," Eddie snaps. He's exhausted and doesn't want to fight but he knows that's what's going to happen.

Steve thought about his soulmate constantly. Eddie cut the string.

"Do you know what it felt like?" Steve says.

"Yeah," Eddie says. "It was the worst pain I've ever felt."

Worse than the bats that laid him up in here, worse than the surgeries and the pull of stitches every time he tries to move. Worse worse worse.

"Me too," Steve says, and oh, he's gone quiet. Cold. The tone seeps into Eddie's bones, and he really, really doesn't like where this is going.

"You made me feel the worst pain of my life when we were going against Vecna," Steve says. "It hurt so bad that Robin was ready to drag me out and leave Nancy by herself. You put us all in danger."

"I'm sorry," Eddie says, but he can barely get those three syllables out before Steve keeps going.

"You put us in danger, you put the rest of the Party in danger, and for what?"

"I was trying to protect you."

"It still fucking hurt!" Steve shouts. "It still hurt. You did nothing. You accomplished nothing."

Eddie will not cry here. He won't.

"Steve-"

"Did you know that I thought about you every day?" Steve whispers.

"Yes," Eddie says, because fuck it, why not be honest? He has nothing left to lose.

"Do you know how excited I got when I saw the string? When you thought of me, too?"

"No," Eddie says because he stayed away from Steve Harrington all throughout high school on account of the principles and stereotypes he's realizing weren't true at all.

"I didn't think you would," Steve says. "Because you didn't fucking think, even for a second, about anything besides what? Your own guilt?"

Eddie won't cry. He won't let Steve have the satisfaction of seeing him do it.

It's getting harder, though.

"I thought of you," Eddie says instead.

"First time?" Steve asks mockingly, and before Eddie can say anything to that, he's out the door.

Then, and only then, does Eddie let himself cry.

It hurts.

#ria writes #angst #so much angst #i'm so sorry #many thanks to mahogany for talking this out a whole bunch #even if it was two months ago (certainly doesn't feel like it!)#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #soulmate au #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #st #st ficlet

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parkerslatte · 7 months

Text

Until The Flowers Wilt

Matthew Fairchild x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none. allusions to sex.

Summary: Y/N and Matthew have been friends for years. Everyone can see what the two feel for each other - everyone except Y/N and Matthew it seems.

Shadowhunter Chronicles Masterlist

•••

“Math,” James said as he watched his parabatai stare out of the window once again. “She’s going to be here soon, you don’t need to keep watch.”

Matthew’s gaze lingered out of the window for a moment longer before he turned to face James. “I’m not keeping watch.”

“Your face is practically glued to the window,” James pointed out. “She’s not meant to be here for another hour.”

“But what is she comes early?” Matthew scoffed. “She’ll be locked out in the cold.”

“I’m sure she will knock on the door,” James said, rolling his eyes.

By the time James had managed to coax Matthew away from the window seat, there was a knock on the door. Matthew immediately shot to his feet from the seat he had only just sat down in.

“I’ll get it,” Matthew announced before he began to exit the living area.

Cordelia appeared in front of him and placed a hand on his chest, halting his movements. “I’ll get it.”

Matthew let out a huff and took a few steps back as Cordelia left to greet the guest. James watched Matthew carefully as he rocked back on his heels watching the doorway. He had always seen the way Matthew acted around Y/N, and vice versa. It seemed to James that everyone could see what the two felt for one another, he even had long discussions with Cordelia about it while they should have been sleeping or doing something else.

When Y/N finally stepped into the room with a wide smile on her face she was instantly wrapped in a hug by Matthew. Initially she was shocked to be quite literally swept off her feet, but once she relaxed and recovered her arms wrapped around Matthew just as tightly.

“Don’t go away again,” Matthew mumbled into her hair.

Y/N chuckled. “I was only gone for two weeks!”

Matthew pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and pulled away from the hug, though he still kept his arms around her. “It was still too long for me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully before stepping away from Matthew and wrapped James in a quick hug. “It’s good to see you too, Jamie.”

James smiled at Y/N as she took her place next to Matthew, unconsciously leaning into him. Matthew’s arm rested on her lower back, tugging her closer. The two shared a smile, seemingly lost within each other’s eyes.

From where Cordelia was leaning against the doorway, just behind Matthew and Y/N, James caught her eye and the two shared a knowing look before James spoke up, interrupting Matthew and Y/N from whatever trance they had put the other in.

***

It was a nice day when everyone sat together on a picnic blanket enjoying the sun. Matthew and Y/N were seemingly late everyone had noticed. The two hadn’t even sent word of their absence.

“Did they mention anything to you?” Thomas asked James.

James shook his head. “Matthew only told me that he would pick Y/N up in his carriage at midday.”

“Ah,” Anna spoke up, her gaze fixated over Thomas’s shoulder. “There they are now, only…” she checked her watch, “two hours late.”

When Matthew and Y/N approached, her arm was linked with his and she carried a large bouquet of flowers. Matthew’s gaze was planted firmly on her as she smiled brightly at everyone.

“Sorry we’re late!” Y/N said. “Instead of taking the carriage, we decided to walk because it would be a shame to waste the sunshine while sitting inside a dark and dreary carriage.”

“Where did the flowers come from?” Anna questioned, a teasing tone in her voice.

“Oh,” Y/N exclaimed as if she suddenly remembered she was holding them. “We walked past a florist and had a look inside. Matthew purchased these for me for my new flat!”

“They look expensive.”

“They were,” Y/N said. “That’s why I plan to pay him back soon.”

Matthew sent a glare her way. “You will do no such thing!”

Y/N looked up at him and grinned lazily. “Watch me.”

Matthew held her gaze for a moment before rolling his eyes playfully and sat himself down on the picnic blanket. As Y/N was about to be beside him, Matthew easily pulled her down so she sat in front of him, her back resting against his chest.

“Careful!” Y/N said. “You’ll crush the flowers.”

Matthew’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind. “Then I will just have to buy you more.”

Y/N turned her head to look at him. “You will do no such thing.”

Matthew’s head tilted towards her’s. Their faces were close but neither of the two acknowledged it, nor did they acknowledge all of the looks sent their way. Some of knowing, some of confusion and some of desperation. All they focussed on was each other.

“Won’t I?” Matthew mumbled.

“You won’t,” Y/N said, her gaze never leaving his eyes.

Matthew smiled. His nose brushed hers. “I will always buy you flowers because every beautiful thing deserves to be owned by the most beautiful woman.”

Y/N’s eyes widened the smallest amount. Her gaze remained on his eyes though her hand tightened on his wrapped around her waist. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course I do,” Matthew said, kissing the tip of her nose before pulling his face away.

Y/N smiled as she reached forward to pick up a sandwich before relaxing fully against Matthew.

Everyone around them resumed their conversation but everyone noticed how Y/N intertwined her fingers with Matthew’s and how whenever Y/N shuffled or moved the slightest bit, Matthew’s gaze fell to her, full of love.

***

It was late at night when Matthew and Y/N had finally finished decorating Y/N’s flat. It had been a dreary day and with nothing else to do, Y/N contacted Matthew to help with her decorating. Matthew was knocking on her door not even fifteen minutes later.

Matthew was sitting on the couch while Y/N came in with two mugs of tea in her hands and placed them down on the table in front of them. The two sat side by side while the fireplace roared.

“Thank you for helping me today,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence. “It would have been a boring day without you.”

Matthew smiled at the ceiling. “I’m glad I could help. And I’m happy you asked me.”

“There is no one else I would ask,” Y/N said. “Except maybe Thomas, he could easily reach the top of my bookshelf without using a chair.”

Matthew rolled his eyes and rested his head on Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N rested her head on top of his.

“My favourite decoration is still the flowers you bought me,” Y/N said. “Even if they are a little wilted by now.”

Matthew glanced over at the flowers she had put in a vase, one that Matthew had also bought her when she first moved into her flat.

“I will need to buy you more,” Matthew said. “And I don’t want to hear you object, because I will buy you more every single time the previous flowers begin to wilt.”

“You are impossible,” Y/N muttered.

“But you love me for it,” Matthew said.

Y/N didn’t respond but she smiled.

Matthew intertwined his fingers with hers before he lifted his head from her shoulder. “Dance with me.”

“What?” Y/N questioned.

Matthew stood up, pulling Y/N up with him. “Dance with me.”

“But there’s no music,” Y/N questioned as Matthew brought her into the centre of her living room.

“Who cares,” Matthew said before he wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her against his chest as the two simply swayed in the middle of the room. The only sound was the crackling fire.

Y/N had been close to Matthew before but there had usually been plenty of other people around. Now with only the two of them she felt her heart begin to beat rapidly.

Unbeknownst to her, Matthew was flustered. He hadn’t known what overcame him when he asked her to dance. Only that he had an overcoming urge to be close to her and hold her within his arms.

The fire crackled as the two continued to sway in the middle of the living room. Neither of the two were sure how long it had been since they had started. They were too wrapped up within one another to notice how much time had passed.

Matthew moved his head from where it had been looking over her shoulder to rest against Y/N’s forehead. She was truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Everyday he would wake up and his first thought would be of her and how her hair looked in the sunlight. He would think of how she smiled when she was happy or found something mildly amusing. He thought of her kindness, her intelligence, her humour. He also thought of her touch and they way she always sought him out in a crowd. The way she would lean into him or link his arm while walking. The way she would mess his hair up when he did something mildly irritating. She was the only person he ever let do that.

Matthew’s eyes closed as he began to lean into Y/N, his breath mixing with hers. There was the smallest brush of his lips against hers and Matthew already craved more. He moved his hands to cup her cheeks and fully pressed his lips against Y/N’s. He nearly felt his heart explode.

Y/N tensed her whole body as soon as Matthew’s lips touched hers. The feeling wasn’t an unwelcome one but it was a shocking one. She didn’t move and let her hands drop down by her sides. Her brain was stalling her to kiss him back but her body wasn’t cooperating.

Matthew’s lips detached from hers, his eyes dark but blown wide as he realised what he just did. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Matthew took several steps back from Y/N. “I’ll just go.”

Y/N watched him leave the room without another word. She called out to him but he didn’t reply. It was only when she heard her front door open and prompty close when her body finally allowed her to move.

She was at her doorway in an instant and swung open the door, not bothering with putting shoes or a jacket on. Luckily her flat was situated on the ground floor so Y/N was immediately opening the front door. It was pouring rain but she didn’t care, stepping outside barefoot and bare armed into the cold rain. She saw Matthew not too far ahead, his hand in the pockets of his trousers, his white shirt completely soaked through. In his haste to leave he hadn’t picked up his jacket.

“Matthew!” Y/N called while rushing down the street, stones dug into her feet but she didn’t care. The only thing on her mind was Matthew.

Matthew stopped and turned, he frowned as Y/N ran up to him. “What are you doing out here, Y/N? Go back inside.”

“No,” Y/N said. “You kissed me.”

Matthew sighed and avoided eye contact. “Can we just forget about that? I shouldn’t have done it and now I’ve ruined everything.”

Y/N shook her head. “‘Ruined everything’? How did you ruin everything?”

Matthew ran a hand through his wet hair, pushing it away from his eyes. “You didn’t kiss me back. I think that’s a clear enough answer for me.” Matthew turned to walk away.

“Because you didn’t give me a chance!” Y/N exclaimed. “You were pulling away and leaving before I ever got the chance to respond. I was shocked and confused. I think deep down I knew what I felt for you. I think it was easier for me to just mask it as a close friendship because I was scared you would never love me the way I love you.”

Matthew stilled before slowly turning to face her. “What do you mean, Y/N?”

“By the angel, you can be so stupid sometimes!”

Before Matthew had the chance to respond, Y/N clutched onto the front of his shirt and pulled him down to press her lips against his. The rain continued to pour around them but they didn’t care. Not when Matthew’s hands rested on her hips. Y/N felt the heat from his palms through the thin gown she wore, now completely drenched and clinging to her body.

Y/N’s arms moved from clutching Matthew’s shirt to wrap around his shoulder’s her hand resting on the back of his head deepening the kiss. Matthew let out a small noise as his fingertips dug into Y/N’s hips pulling her closer until her body was flush with his.

Matthew pulled away first and rested his forehead against Y/N’s breathing heavily. “Tell me what that meant.”

“Are you really-”

“I already know,” Matthew said. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Y/N smiled. “I am in love with you, Matthew Fairchild.”

Matthew pressed his lips against Y/N’s. It was brief but it told Y/N everything she needed to know.

“I want to hear you say it too,” Y/N muttered against his lips.”

“I. Love. You.” Matthew said, kissing her in between each word. “I will love you until I let any bouquet of flowers die.” Matthew pressed a soft kiss against the tip of her nose. “So now you cannot deny me when I buy them for you.”

The two stood with their arms wrapped around one another in the middle of the downpour, smiles on their faces. It wasn’t until Y/N shivered that the two broke whatever bubble they had been in.

“We should get back inside,” Y/N said. “There is a warm fire. Two cups of tea still not finished and…” Y/N leaned up to whisper in his ear. “A warm bed.”

Matthew smirked before he lifted Y/N up in his arms. She laughed in delight. “I am not opposed to that idea.”

***

The next morning everyone was waiting outside of Y/N’s flat. The previous day she had invited them all over to celebrate her moving into her new home.

“Is she even home?” Lucie asked.

“It’s Y/N,” Anna said. “When she makes plans, she sticks to them.”

“We’ve been waiting here for half an hour,” Thomas said. “Maybe she’s forgotten.”

Cordelia sighed before she pulled a key out of her bag. “Y/N gave me a key to her flat for emergencies.”

“But this isn’t an emergency,” James said.

“It may not be,” Cordelia said unlocking the door. “But I would like to know where Matthew is.”

The group looked around at one another, only noticing that Matthew wasn’t there.

“Y/N?” Cordelia announced as she stepped into her flat.

“Cordelia?” Matthew said, appearing from the kitchen carrying two mugs of coffee. He was shirtless and his trousers hung low on his waist. Cordelia averted her gaze.

“Y/N invited us to see her flat,” Cordelia said as everyone entered the flat behind her.

They all looked at Matthew. They all shared a look with one another but no one looked the slightest bit surprised.

“Matthew!” Y/N said, her footsteps padding down the hallway. “Could you help me with this, I can’t get it to stay in place.”

Y/N appeared in the living room, only wearing a white shirt. Y/N let out a noise of surprise when she noticed everyone standing in her living room.

Matthew placed the two mugs of coffee down before moving to shield Y/N’s body with his own.

“You can all make yourselves at home,” Y/N said as he and Matthew began to walk down the hallway. “We will be out in a minute.”

The group waited until they heard Y/N’s door close before laughing.

“It was about time,” James said, sitting on the couch and wrapped an arm around Cordelia, a wide smile on his face.

#matthew fairchild x fem!reader #matthew fairchild fic #matthew fairchild x reader #matthew fairchild #the last hours #the last hours x reader #shadowhunters #shadowhunter chronicles

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marichive · 5 months

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𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 : 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Writing / roleplay prompts collected from the POV chapters of Daenerys Targaryen in A Clash of Kings , the second book of the ASOIAF saga. Feel free to adjust pronouns / etc. as needed.

tw: dark & mature themes, death, violence, suggestive / sexual content

❝ Every man who sees them will want them. ❞

❝ No man may take them from me while I live. ❞

❝ They are not strong, so I must be their strength. ❞

❝ I must show no fear, no weakness, no doubt. ❞

❝ However frightened my heart, when they look upon my face, they must see only their queen. ❞

❝ I would name them for all the gods have taken. ❞

❝ Perhaps we are doomed if we press on, but I know for a certainty that we are doomed if we turn back. ❞

❝ I must be strong for him as well. ❞

❝ Do you know what this place might be? ❞

❝ When the gods are gone, the evil ghosts feast by night. Such places are best shunned. ❞

❝ Perhaps I should do the same to remind them that his strength lives within me now. ❞

❝ If I had wings, I would want to fly, too. ❞

❝ We should rest here until we are stronger. ❞

❝ There are ghosts everywhere. We carry them with us wherever we go. ❞

❝ It pains him to speak of her. ❞

❝ Was she beautiful? ❞

❝ I thought she was a goddess come to earth. ❞

❝ I did things it shames me to speak of. ❞

❝ He wants me. ❞

❝ He can never have me. ❞

❝ Seek no more. You have found them. ❞

❝ If you see anything here that you would desire, you have only to speak and it is yours. ❞

❝ Come with me and you shall drink of truth and wisdom. ❞

❝ The young queen is wise beyond her years. ❞

❝ The crow calls the raven black. ❞

❝ They shall come day and night to see the wonder that has been born again into the world. ❞

❝ When they see, they shall lust. ❞

❝ Dragons are fire made flesh, and fire is power. ❞

❝ She speaks truly, though I like her no more than the others. ❞

❝ My place is here at your side. ❞

❝ Only you can serve me in this. ❞

❝ I want to make my kingdom beautiful, to fill it with fat men and pretty maids and laughing children. I want my people to smile when they see me ride by. ❞

❝ He will kill you, sure as sunrise. ❞

❝ He was a traitor to his true king. ❞

❝ Let the whole world know my purpose. ❞

❝ I am not the frightened girl you met once. ❞

❝ Dragons die, but so do dragonslayers. ❞

❝ I see a deep sadness written upon your face. ❞

❝ They listened, but they did not hear or care. ❞

❝ Tell me what they said to sadden the queen of my heart. ❞

❝ They said it with great courtesy, to be sure, but under all the lovely words, it was still no. ❞

❝ He distrusts everyone, and perhaps for good reason. ❞

❝ Will nothing turn you from this madness? ❞

❝ I have given you my home and heart, do they mean nothing to you? ❞

❝ He asked me to marry him again. ❞

❝ I am afraid, but I must be brave. ❞

❝ Heed the wisdom of those who love you best. ❞

❝ Warlocks are bitter creatures who eat dust and drink of shadows. ❞

❝ Let me walk with you in this dark place, to keep you safe from harm. ❞

❝ Take my arm and let me lead you. ❞

❝ If you value your soul, take care and do just as I tell you. ❞

❝ Our little lives are no more than the flicker of a moth's wing to them. ❞

❝ Listen well, and write each word upon your heart. ❞

❝ I am in the presence of sorcery. ❞

❝ Little princess, there you are. ❞

❝ Come to me, my lady. ❞

❝ You're home now. You're safe now. ❞

❝ Let him be the king of ashes. ❞

❝ The dragon has three heads. ❞

❝ Long have we awaited you. ❞

❝ The docks are no place for lady's finery. ❞

❝ They know who I am, and they do not love me. ❞

❝ You need not go alone. ❞

❝ You have seen dark visions. ❞

❝ I have dreamed brighter dreams. I see you happily abed, with our child at your breast. ❞

❝ I will not wed you. ❞

❝ But where am I to go? ❞

❝ You need only say that one sweet word. ❞

❝ Men have looked at women since time began. ❞

❝ Worms have crawled up your nose and eaten your wits. ❞

❝ Only fools would stare so openly if they meant me harm. ❞

❝ Pay him before he kills himself. ❞

❝ Did I break your hand? ❞

❝ Put down your steel! ❞

❝ Who is it that I owe my life to? ❞

❝ You owe me nothing. ❞

❝ I let each man cut me once before I kill him. ❞

❝ You will accord all respect to my people, or you will leave my service sooner than you'd wish, and with more scars than when you came. ❞

❝ He would have you. ❞

❝ I want every man who sees them to know the dragons have returned. ❞

#rp memes #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #roleplay memes #rp prompt #inbox memes #[memes ; mine]#[memes ; for muse]#[memes ; general]#[memes ; sentence]

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nightcourtseer · 8 months

Text

A spicy little Elriel beach-themed romp for @tealeaves-and-rosepetals! Thankful for your friendship, happy happy birthday!

Warning: Explicit

Read on A03

“I’m not sure why they sent you to accompany me, seeing as you seem to now avoid me at all costs,” Elain huffed, picking up her skirts in one hand to keep from tripping on the wooden board walk that hovered two feet along the beach dividing the border of the Night and Day Courts.

“They could have sent anyone else to watch me.”

Azriel remained silent, trailing after her dutifully. The sun beat down on them both as they walked along the empty beach, where they would soon meet Helion and his newly-discovered son, Lucien, to accompany her to the Day Court.

There were individuals there who could help her with her powers, or so she had been told.

And being agreeable as she was, she acquiesced. Even though it secretly irked her to no end that the decision had been made behind closed doors, between two high lords and her mate.

And with everyone else in a race to find Koschei, to free Vassa, it seemed that Azriel had been the one to be saddled with her, to bring her to a meeting point at the crux of each Court for a hand-off of sorts. It was easier that way, to remain diplomatic as an example for the other Courts if word were to get out. It had not yet been revealed to the others that Lucien was Helion’s son, and any eyebrow-raising international incidents were to be kept to a minimum.

It had been a struggle for the Night Court in particular to abide by this advice in the past, or so she had been told.

“It makes no sense to me, that you are the one who will not speak to me when you are the one who left me there that night,” Elain surmised, not deigning to turn around to look at Azriel as she spoke. “Truly, I should be the one refusing to look your way.”

Azriel remained frustratingly silent, and broody.

It did not help Elain’s frustration that he looked unbearably devastating in the simple white button up shirt he wore, with canvas black trousers and black boots. His dark hair tousled effortlessly in the wind over his furrowed eyebrows as they walked, not a sliver of sweat gracing his forehead even while she felt as if she were melting into her ballet style slippers.

The cream dress she wore left little to anyone’s imagination. But when they had showed her the more typical wardrobe worn in the Day Court, she outright refused. She would simply not be tucking herself into a piece of fabric barely more than a bedsheet - she had not lost all of her propieties over the past few years.

Elain looked longingly out over the clear blue water of the sea on the southern side of the Night Court. Its cool blue waters lapped at the beach as if it was a mirage - the promise of refreshing, sweet relief found within its clear depths.

Coming to a sudden stop, Elain paused to catch her breath and delicately swipe the sweat beginning to accumulate on her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Elain…” Azriel cautioned, catching up to her as he strode up the beach. So serious, so cold ever since that night on Solstice. She had barely seen him since then, and whenever he did appear, it was as if a stranger had taken the place of the Azriel she had come to know.

“Ah!” she laughed drily, holding a hand to her stomach. “So you do speak!”

“What are you doing? We still have a long ways to go, and we don’t want to keep your mate waiting.”

Elain could have sworn he loosed a low growl on the word mate, and the hair on the back of her neck stood straight up. Interesting.

She whirled to face him, her impeccably curled hair catching on the breeze as she spun.

“I will not apologize for being late until everyone else apologizes to me for arranging this in the first place, without my knowledge.”

Azriel stopped and stared at her. She could have sworn she saw a spark of barely contained amusement cross his hazel eyes, but it was quickly masked once more behind that look of cool detachment he seemed to favor so heavily.

If she were a child, she might have stomped her foot at him.

But she was no child. She was no longer even a real woman anymore.

She was an instinct-driven beast of the wood. She was a fae.

And so Elain Archeron did what her instincts had been screaming at her to do for the past hour of walking.

She dove straight into the beckoning waters of the Night Court Sea.

Only thanks to her newly-acquired fae hearing did she hear Azriel muttering an exasperated, “Fuck,” under his breath, before a second splash followed her own.

Elain had been right - the water was as sweet and cool as she imagined it to be. She opened her eyes, which only burned slightly at the salt as she let her heavy skirts pull her down further into the darkness. It was quiet in the water, still. So unlike how her first submersion in the Cauldron had been - this was the opposite of that. Peaceful, almost hypnotic, as the gentle tide pulled her back and forth.

She let her eyes drift close, embracing the free fall into the unknown. That was, until a pair of large, scarred hands wrapped around her middle and yanked her upward, back to the dappled light of the surface.

When she opened her eyes again, gasping for breath once they broke the surface, Azriel was glaring stonily back at her as she clung to him. They bobbed in the water as Azriel kept them upright, using a free hand and his wings to keep them buoyant.

If she thought he looked devastatingly dry, it was no comparison to how Azriel looked soaking wet.

Dark hair plastered to his face, while his previously pristine white dress shirt was soaked through, revealing the dark outline of his tattooed chest underneath. Elain had never seen him shirtless, she realized, as she scanned the muscular torso currently keeping her afloat. Thin fabric clung to the swell of his biceps, and she could feel the angry heat radiating off of him.

She was surprised no steam surrounded them in the water - just his whirling shadows, which seemed just as agitated as his master at their current state.

“Are you trying to off yourself? Are you that desperate to avoid your mate?” Azriel sputtered, drops of seawater flying from his mouth as he held her above water so that she did not even come close to slipping underneath the surface. She marveled at how it seemed to tax him little effort to do so.

The arm he wrapped around her like a vice sent a thrill through her, one that she was too stubborn to admit.

“I figured you would break your vow of silence and save me if it really seemed as if I was about to drown,” she quipped airily, raising an eyebrow as she looked down at him through her lashes. Drops of seawater slid down her face and off the end of those lashes as she blinked, watching him with big, doe-brown eyes awaiting his response.

But she would be disappointed.

He had barely heard what she said, because Elain Archeron’s godsdamned beautiful, perfect tits were currently being shoved in front of his face.

If she realized how utterly tortured he was in that moment, she did not acknowledge it.

The point of her nipples were teasing him through the thin fabric of her soaked dress, the fabric thinner and airier than what she usually donned back in Velaris - meant for the warmer climate of the Day Court. The peachy skin just above the neckline taunted him as her breasts rose and fell with each labored breath.

“Well?” she insisted. “Are you to remain a mute forever in my presence forevermore?” Her full lips were pressed into a hard line as she stared at him, searching for some sort of reaction. Some sliver of presence of the male he used to be with her, in the garden.

Azriel still hadn’t figured out how to reconcile he was in the Court of Nightmares with the male that sat with her on the sun-soaked days. He had never gotten that far in his planning.

Maybe it would be easier just to show her.

“You don’t know what you’re asking me to do, Elain,” he warned through gritted teeth, resolve slipping as she heaved and writhed in his arms. Bared skin already pebbling in the cool air as drops of water clung to her heat.

“I do, actually,” she threw back at him, her dark eyes molten as she unwrapped a hand from where it clutched her other around her neck.

Azriel didn’t breathe as she moved that hand to his face, where she harshly dragged her thumb across his bottom lip.

“I do know, what I’m asking. And I know what I want.”

He had not been expecting to be entrusted with her alone, on this journey. He had not been expecting her to dive into the water, knowing full well she did not know how to swim.

But nothing in the godsdamned universe could have prepared him for Elain rolling her hips across his cock.

For the second time that afternoon Azriel swore.

“Fuck.”

Fine. Then he would show her who he truly was, when he wasn’t sitting in the townhouse in Velaris.

He would show her the Azriel of Nightmares that was told as a scary story to younglings cowering in their beds.

Azriel was kissing her roughly before his brain fully had the opportunity to make a decision. She did that to him. For all of his careful planning, his well thought-out, patient persona, there was Elain - debilitating all of it.

Because nothing else mattered, when she was kissing him back like he was offering her the breath of life itself.

Oh, they were going to be very, very late.

Azriel struggled to keep them afloat, but somehow managed to get them to shore even as his cock was growing increasingly, uncomfortably hard as Elain continued grinding against him, pulling and nipping at his lip with her teeth and moaning into his mouth.

He gasped for breath as he finally felt his feet meet sand, and he began walking them up and out of the water, frantically pushing Elain’s curls from her face that somehow kept ending up in his mouth as he fought to keep her lips firmly pressed to his.

“Azriel,” she moaned against his mouth, shooting another sharp jolt straight to his cock.

This is what had been building and growing to an insurmountable height since even before that Solstice night. And they were about to freefall.

“Elain,” he managed to choke out between frantic kisses, “Are you opposed to sand?”

Elain paused and he almost whined, whined, in protest as she gave him a sharp look.

“The only thing I’m opposed to is still being in this wet dress,” she responded, a slow smirk lifting the corner of her sweet lips as she smiled.

“Then I would be happy to remove it.”

He couldn’t resist offering her a secret smile back as she laughed prettily, then moving them over to the cover of the boardwalk. There would be just enough room for two underneath, for privacy and for shade from the beating sun on two soon-to-be bare bodies.

Once he set her down, her feet had barely touched the sand before she was grasping for his shirt, pulling the damp material away from his skin and shakily unbuttoning it, all but ripping it off his shoulders as she pulled.

He would have laughed, had he not been so aroused he feared he might come before even seeing her bare.

His belt came next, thrown hastily in the sand in the direction away from the waning tide. Then her small hands were reaching down his pants, and Azriel hissed as she palmed him through the damp fabric.

“Yes?” she whispered, looking up at him innocently, blinking wide-eyed as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing to him.

“Fuck yes,” he growled back, reaching to pull up the skirts of her dress as she moved to free his length and yank the soaked material down his legs.

Elain in a dress was beautiful. But Elain out of a dress was world-ending, time-ceasing, brain-melting exquisiteness.

He was utterly speechless. He may never speak again, after seeing Elain Archeron naked before him - small breasts full and peaked in the sea breeze, a modest amount of dark hair covering the space between her thighs. Wet curls clinging to her torso and the creamy expanse of her neck and back.

And her scent - her godsdamend scent - it put all others to shame. He had no need to ever walk in a garden again, or into the kitchen while Nuala and Cerridwen baked fresh bread again.

Nothing would ever compare to the arousal pooling between Elain’s thighs.

And then she let a slim, calloused hand drift between her legs, and Azriel thought that his soul may as well be taken in that very moment.

Her hips bucked once, then twice as she slid a finger in the space between her thighs, biting her lip as she looked at him.

Azriel surged. He would not be kind, or gentle.

For how could he be, when he was ravenous.

She cried out once at the first stripe of his tongue between her legs as a solid hand pressed her into the sand. The cool water of the tide came just up to her lower back, offering relief to her overheated skin.

Then she whimpered as tongue and teeth latched on to the very center of her pleasure, tugging and teasing and suckling until her hips began to grind roughly against his face.

He only pressed her more firmly into the sand as he worked her, hazel eyes almost black as he looked up at her from his position between her legs. A dark promise in his eyes - ruin. Ruin for the both of them. Then he roughly slid two fingers into her, and Elain bucked beneath him, her core clenching around him.

There seemed to be some secret inside of her that he was searching for, as his fingers slid in and out as she squirmed.

She knew when he found it, because she almost screamed, and she looked down in time to watch a satisfied grin slide across Azriel's face, even as it pressed against her heat.

Competitive fae bastard.

That spot was her undoing as he stroked it, playing her until the feeling tightening in her belly constricted so tightly it snapped.

Elain came, whole body seizing and hoarsely calling for him as she clamped damp thighs around his ears as. His eyes flickered close as he tasted her until she squirmed from oversensitivity.

Elain came, hoarsely calling for him and clamping damp thighs around his ears as his eyes flickered close as he tasted her until she squirmed from oversensitivity.

And even then, he was not done. Spilled arousal coated the inside of her creamy thighs, and he made for that too, the flat of his tongue sliding up through it as he tasted every last drop of her that she offered him. Humming against her sensitive skin as if it was the best meal he had ever had. And then when he had had his fill, he kissed and gently nipped the gooseflesh that pebbled beneath his warm mouth.

Beneath him, Elain shook, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through her as she watched his dark head between her legs.

She had thought she had known Azriel before. Had thought she had known him for who he was in entirety - acknowledging the darkness that was intrinsically him.

But she had not in her wildest dreams expected this.

And Elain wanted - no, needed, more. She needed it all.

Pulling up her legs as he shot her a disappointed look, Elain moved to get on her knees.

“Lie back,” she instructed, unrestrained want heating her voice. “Your turn.”

Azriel stood so quickly that his head quite forcefully met the underside of the wooden boardwalk.

Elain giggled and he couldn’t help but smile at her amusement, even as the top of his head throbbed and his shadows swarmed the hidden hurt.

“Let me make you feel better…” she whispered, crawling over him and lowering her head.

At the first touch of her mouth on him, Azriel’s eyes shot open. Praying to every god he knew that he would last more than a few strokes of her tongue.

They were indeed very, very late.

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