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#loving you means to fall in love with loneliness
moonstruckme · 10 hours
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hiii i would love a tasm! peter where reader has just moved out of home for the first time and is feeling a bit lonely! peter comes over and keeps them company, maybe they make dinner or have a movie night :)
Thanks for requesting lovely!
cw: reader deals with loneliness
tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 753 words
You open your door to the smell of smoke. Instantly you beeline towards the kitchen, worried you’d left the stove on or your new apartment came with some faulty wiring, but you find yourself blocked at the threshold. A tall figure steps into your way. 
“Please don’t—” 
You gasp and jump at the same time, up and back, and Peter has to grab your arms to keep you from tripping over the couch. 
“Freak out,” he finishes. He grins as he rights you, eyes light with amusement. “Sorry, there were probably better ways to do that.” 
“Fuck,” you sigh, bending and setting your hands on your knees. “Peter, what the hell? How did you get in here?” 
“You left your window unlocked.” Peter lets you go, holding his hands aloft for a second to make sure you don’t topple before stepping back. “Super not safe, by the way. I’m not the only person in New York who knows how to climb a fire escape.” 
You shake your head, baffled, before remembering your original concern. “Are you burning something?” 
He winces. “Not intentionally.” 
You raise your eyebrows and move past him, into your kitchen. Peter follows behind. 
“It’s out,” he assures you. You spot a smoldering dish in the sink, the charred remains of what you suppose was once food submerged in cold water. At least the smoke seems to be thin, clinging to the ceiling and drifting slowly out your open kitchen window. “I thought I could be fancy and make something, but, uh, reinforcements have been called.” 
You turn. “Reinforcements?” 
Peter grins sheepishly. “Pizza.” 
A little laugh sputters out of you, and his grin softens around the edges. 
“Can I get a hug?” he asks. 
You step forward willingly, the remainders of the day’s exhaustion seeping out of you as Peter wraps his arms tightly around your shoulders. You squeeze his middle in return, resting your cheek on his chest and wishing stupidly that you could fall asleep just like this. 
“What’re you doing here?” you ask. 
“What do you mean?” Peter’s tone is teasing, but it’s still a bit gentler than usual, mushy fond. “Where else would I be? You thought you could move to Staten Island and get away from me?” 
“It’s kind of far,” you admit. 
“You’re delusional. You don’t get to have an apartment all by yourself, you’re stuck with me and my mooching forever. This is our new apartment.” 
“Really?” you ask, though the words have happiness and affection sprouting to life in your chest. When you’d moved here on your own, you’d figured it would seem empty without your family but you hadn’t known how much you would feel it. You like the freedom, having control of your own schedule and how you decorate and which things go in the dishwasher, but you miss having people around. It’s been so easy to fall into a routine characterized by solitude, with nothing but work to make you leave the apartment and no one to keep you company when you’re home. “You gonna pay rent?” 
Peter squishes his cheek into the top of your head. Unbeknownst to you, he’s picked up on all of this. You’ve been calling him more since you’d moved in here, late at night and in the middle of the day. He’s gotten the sense you just want to talk to someone. He’s always happy to be that someone, but sometimes the phone doesn’t cut it. The trip from Queens to Staten Island isn’t a short one, but he’s going to be making it more often. He’s missed seeing you, your sweet face and the way your eyes crackle when you look at him. 
He pulls back, and they’re doing it now. You’re smiling at Peter like he’s the best thing you’ve seen all week, which is very flattering, but it seems like a low bar. 
“I’m thinking I’ll pay thirty percent of utilities,” he says. “Sound fair?” 
“Totally fair,” you agree, rolling your eyes. 
He grins. “Perfect. You’re getting a great deal, here, sweetheart. I’m already providing pizza and a movie.” 
Your eyebrows raise. “A movie?” 
Peter goes to your couch, whipping up the DVD case. “Yup. Blu-ray.” 
You’re smiling so big he can see all your teeth, but you shake your head. “Oh, Peter.” 
“What?” 
“I just moved in here. Why would you think I had a DVD player?” 
Peter’s head rolls back, an odd breath leaving him that’s half sigh, half laugh. “I guess that’s another thing I’m getting you, huh?”
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knavesflames · 2 days
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Hey knavesflames. New follower here.
Hope you are having a great day.
This is my first time ever requesting a writing and I know you could cook up a wonderful piece with it.
So basically got this idea after listening to Mitski's Washing Machine Heart (yes my life is mitski coded). So anyways, the prompt goes like how Arlecchino views the reader as a replacement for the Clervie, something along those lines (and the lyrics of the above mentioned song). All three of them were also living together in the House of Hearth during the reign of the previous Knave (I forgot her name) who Arlecchino defeated.
(I don't know if anyone else have come up with this idea).
Would love to see an angst filled story with this.
Thank you!!!!!
P.S - love your writings💙
Hello! My day is fine thank you:) the fact you trust me to cook here made me smile very much, I hope I cooked enough. Thank you for liking my stuff!!
Contents: angst, non graphic moment of sex that just turns sad as hell, arlecchino sharpen urself up
Word count: 2873
Fic under the cut:D
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She was different from you and Clervie. You and Clervie were very similar, most of the kids called you twins. Happy, cheerful, protective, always talking to the other children. Peruere was not like that. She was reserved, almost cold-blooded, quiet. It quickly became obvious she cared about you both when she would quietly invite you to watch her spider do something, or when she would catch three fish instead of one, because you and Clervie were simply too loud for one to stay still. You were a trio, one the entire House of the Hearth knew, and ‘Mother’ knew. She let you all be friends, for now. But it didn’t mean she stopped punishing Clervie. If anything, she was punished more. Often coming back to your room (where you all mostly sat, because your room was the biggest) with shaky hands and a tight lipped smile after having a photo frame thrown at her, or a red face where ‘Mother’ had slapped her. Or, as she got older, even worse, when she would come back with cuts and scrapes that you and Peruere would bandage for her silently. You learned that making the bandages look pretty cheered her up, despite her always having an outward smile. And when she opened the window that night, promising that you’d all go to Snezhnaya and see the dancing lights in the sky, something in Peruere changed that day.
She became more protective, more cautious of things.. when Clervie was involved. As you entered your teenage years, you would often come back to your room, devoid of people, only to hear two people giggling in the next one. You were still a trio, you always had been and always will be. But growing up means indulging in feelings, and they seemed to have more feelings for each other than for you. They were not cruel, no. They did not mean for it to be this way. They invited you out on walks and you caught fish together like usual, but it just felt.. different. The small jokes they made, clearly private jokes you didn’t and wouldn’t understand did not go unnoticed. Neither did the small pit of loneliness that began growing inside of you. You were jealous, yes. Your two best (and only) friends seemed to like each other more than they liked you, if only in a romantic sense, and they let it cloud them when they were with you too. A bitter person, you are not, so you endured it. You still loved and cared for both of them (especially Peruere, but you refused to let Clervie feel the way you felt then) and wanted the best for them, you just wished that for a second, things could go back to the way they were.
But they didn’t. Especially not when you and Peruere stood frozen over Clervie’s fallen body, both of you trembling and breathing fitfully. ‘Mother’’s fight to be king has finally infiltrated your friendship, and Clervie was the one to fall. With Peruere holding the blade, you were convinced you’re next, with your eyes widened and filled with unshed tears (though, the past couple of years, all of your tears have been unshed).
“Peruere, please don’t.”
“I’m going to murder her.”
“..who?”
“Mother.”
“Moth-..”
Your voice trails off as it shakes, your ears thoroughly listening to Peruere’s admittance of her plan, of the future matricide she did in fact go on to commit. You were the one to bury Clervie and place lumidouce bells around her body, closing her eyes and placing the small teddies you three had of each other next to her. Arlecchino was the one who avenged her, brutally murdering her before quickly being imprisoned.
Eventually, after taking Crucabena’s place as the Knave, after becoming ‘Father’, changing her name to Arlecchino, you both began dating. A drunken night turned into dating and living together. Perhaps it was grief stricken, perhaps she really did feel that type of affection for you, the way you have for her for so long. The way you have silently yearned for her has not gone unnoticed by the people around you. What is also noticed, what has been noticed since the day you met Clervie, is your similarities. You both are very similar, you always have been. Kind, cheerful, you both even say the same things, enjoy the same foods. Most used to joke that you were secretly twins, you and Arlecchino know that, but the joke came to an end when Clervie met hers. It was never spoken of again, and neither was she. Barely, anyway. Years went past, and it seemed both of you were happy in the relationship you both had carved from tragedy. Though, you ignored the niggling feeling in your chest when Arlecchino would come home and surprise you with a bouquet of flowers. It wasn’t the fact you received flowers, no, that made your heart warm. It was about which flowers and what she said along with it.
“I saw some lumidouce bells as I walked home. Here, dear, your favourite.”
The phrase alone is all good and well, but.. they are not your favourite flowers. They never have been. You have always preferred lakelight lilies, and she should have known that after over a decade knowing you. Lumidouce bells were the favourite of Clervie, not you. The strange feeling in your chest swells with every new bouquet you receive, until receiving flowers is no longer a pleasant thing. The feeling is pushed back again and again, until she comes home one evening, the keys jingling against the door. The familiar sound of the paper around the bouquet is audible again, and you feel your stomach sink slightly when you see the familiar lumidouce bells.
“Look what the florist had today, dear.”
“So they did. Thank you, love.”
You take them with a small lump in your throat and a tight smile, delicately placing them in water and giving one a small pat, a habit you picked up many years ago as a nod to your best friend. Your mind wanders, though, and eventually, you bite the bullet and ask.
“Did they have any lakelight lilies?”
“They always do. Why?”
You wonder why she doesn’t buy those instead.
“No, no reason. They’re pretty, don’t you think?”
You are not talking about the flowers when you ask this, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling softly. She glances up with the faintest smile of her own before continuing to undo her heels, the heels you know she has killed many with.
“Not as pretty as lumidouce bells, in my opinion.”
You have to turn swiftly to hide the twist of your expression, the hurt that flashes over it as you grit your teeth together so hard they should have turned to dust already. You manage out an “alright” before beelining towards the kitchen to make dinner. You don’t even know if she knew you were not asking about the appearance of the flowers, if she understood you were asking about your own, to try to find some affirmation in the sea of self loathing. It stung nonetheless, but you realise you cannot be angry if you didn’t say it outright. Still, the thought lingers, eating away at you as you zone out, letting your hands chop the carrot too finely before shaking yourself out of it. You can’t stay upset for long though, when her hands snake around you and she praises you for your food making skills, murmuring that it smells good. So, the thought is forgotten, left behind for a night of overthinking that will inevitably come. For now, though, for tonight, you enjoy dinner. Steak tartare, (you scrapped the carrot), laughing lightly when she draws an ‘x’ over it with sauce to match her eyes. The rest of the evening goes the way all of your evenings go. Contentedly, quietly. She agreed long ago to not bring Fatui doings into the home. You grew up with that and you don’t want to deal with that again, which she respects, so, you don’t speak about work, a relief for both you and her. You watch a movie, a boring movie neither of you really like, that leads to channelling the inner teenager and making out on the sofa. You can’t hide the giggle that escapes you when she lifts you up, carrying you and placing you on the bed before proceeding to undress you. Before long, you’re naked, moaning her name softly in pleasure, both names of hers. ‘Peruere’ is reserved only for this, only for moments of intimacy or when you’re alone. In return, she loves to whisper sweet nothings against the shell of your ear, enjoying the way your body squirms against her.
“It’s good. Please keep going.”
“Good girl. You’re so pretty, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, Clervie.”
Oh.. oh. You freeze. She doesn’t. Despite her movements still continuing, the pleasure is gone as quickly as it came and your ears begin to ring as you pale. A shaky hand comes to her chest, pushing her away as you shake your head, swallowing hard.
“Stop. Stop it. I don’t want—“
She stops immediately, a concerned look on her face. Her hand moves to comfort you, to ask what’s wrong but your own hand slaps hers away gently.
“What…? What happened?”
The way you sit up, your once pink cheeks now pale, your eyes wide and your breathing shallow concerns her. When you don’t speak, she stays silent, staring at you as your mouth opens and closes. You know you heard her right, it was clearer than the sky in Fontaine during June. The worst part is that she doesn’t even realise she’s done it. Your stomach is twisting, your chest aching harder than it has in years as you finally manage to speak.
“You called me by her name.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
When you think about everything in hindsight, the way she (accidental or not is still hard to tell) indirectly said you weren’t pretty earlier with the flowers, and now, during sex of all things, told you that you were the prettiest girl she had ever seen, only to call you by someone else’s name makes you realise it wasn’t you she was talking to at all. She wasn’t calling you pretty, she was calling Clervie pretty. And she wasn't thinking about you at all. Suddenly, the fact you’re naked becomes all too apparent and your hands clutch at the various blankets, covering yourself out of insecurity. A wave of nausea fills you for a second before you speak again.
“I’m not her. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“I was naked underneath you and you were not even thinking of me.”
“I was, I..”
How many times has she thought about Clervie while having sex with you? How many times has she wished it was Clervie underneath her instead? Your brain begins a whirlwind of thoughts, barely giving each one time to form before another one comes. Then, the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, your shaky, quiet voice echoing the room and cutting through the awkward tension.
“Do you wish it was me that died instead of her? Do you even know me at all?”
“Of course I know you.”
She didn’t answer the first question, it dawns on you. It hurts too much to bring it up again, not when you know how her avoidance of the question is an affirmative.
“What is my favourite flower, Peruere?”
Her true name comes out of your mouth in what seems to be an attempt at a sneer, but ends up as a sad whisper, your voice quivering with the force of your contained tears. Arlecchino’s own voice is quiet, softer than it usually is.
“Lumidouce bells.”
“No.”
“You loved them as a child, you had a necklace—“
“No, Clervie had a necklace. I like lakelight lilies.”
Arlecchino’s own face pales slightly at the memory of your earlier question. The way your face looked at her with your crooked smile that held that slight tinge of hope, only for you to immediately turn (not before your face fell, she noticed that, but didn’t understand) and walk away. She goes to speak, but you cut her off, a tearful, small voice that’s so unlike you.
“When is my birthday?”
“April 23rd.”
“That is Clervie’s birthday. My birthday is in December.”
“But—“
“You don’t think I’m pretty. You think she is pretty. You have not moved on, you still love her. You— you do not love me and you do not know me at all.”
The silence that follows confirms everything, and a choked sob fills the air at the newfound knowledge. You let your head fall to your knees, quiet sobs wracking your frame as Arlecchino sits beside you, a hand hovering over your back.
“My dear.”
“Do not call me such a thing, Peruere. Not when it is not me you wish to be saying it to. Say my name. Say my name, and tell me you love me and mean it.”
“You must take a breath.”
She does not say it and your heart shatters.
“You do not say it because you can’t. You did not ever love me, you loved her. I am the closest thing you can get to her, so you settled for me and you live your life pretending I am her. What is it, exactly, about me that isn’t good enough compared to her? Why not me?”
“I don’t know. You are wonderful.”
“Yet I am not enough.”
“You are.”
“Not to you.”
The utter heartbreak and anguish in your voice rips through Arlecchino’s body. Not many things get to her like this but her best friend lover crying like this, the insecurity and shame radiating off of her body is heartbreaking to her and she feels the guilt rise in her stomach. You have your head buried into the blankets as your body wracks with soft cries. Being stabbed would hurt less than this, you think. Hurt less than being used to live in a fantasy where Clervie didn’t die.
“Should I go for a walk?”
“Yes, go.”
How enthusiastic your response was, she wonders. Though, she knows what she has done even without meaning to do it. She stands up, clothing herself silently before slipping out of the room. You hear her feet padding down the hall, and eventually her leaving the house and her softly muttering to herself as she passes the window. You want to hate her, you want to punch her and throw all of the flowers out of the window. At the same time, you can’t even bring yourself to think of looking in the mirror and seeing the face your girlfriend does not find pretty. Nor can you bring yourself to walk to your living room and find a picture of the face your girlfriend does find pretty. All you can bring yourself to do is dress yourself in the first clothes you can find before letting yourself fall back into bed, sniffling with a look of misery on your face. You wonder when she’s coming back. You wonder if she’s coming back at all. You wonder if you care. You do, but you wish you didn’t. You wish you didn’t love her the way she loves Clervie. Or, rather, you wish she loved you the way she loves Clervie.
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ganondoodle · 2 days
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Oh man I saw your totk issues post and I agree 100%!! Those are all things that have really bothered me about playing totk, and things that made playing it not nearly as fun (the dungeons, the shrines, the building, etc).
Especially the map!! When I tell you I was so disappointed by the maps on totk, I was hoping for something new! It really just feels like a modded botw, not an official sequel.
I was wondering what your thoughts are on the concept of “what if they had sent link to the past instead”? So the surface map would feature huge differences in the land forms and buildings that exist, and we’d get to see more ganon whenever he visits Hyrule, or go out to the desert to see Gerudo town, etc.
If they really wanted no sheika tech, they could also just have it being newly built? And you could introduce the new characters and such, etc etc.
(I also think the past champions are such a missed opportunity? If botw is about grief and loneliness, and finding hope in the hopeless, and Totk is about coming together despite that, it could have been really interesting if Link had gone to the past! They could have used the past setting as an eerie reminder to what Link and Zelda had lost when the Calamity struck!)
THAT BEING SAID: I’m not as familiar with the legend of Zelda lore, and haven’t played totk very much! I wanted to know your thoughts on this because you seem to have a lot of story and game mechanic knowledge that could explain why this could be a bad/good idea!
(Plus, your discussions are always super interesting to read, as is your custom totk lore, so I’d love to know what you think🩷)
I’m sorry if you’ve already answered an ask like this! If that’s the case, feel free to point that out and I’ll go through your ask tag if you have one:) I hope you have a great day!⭐️
Hi!
im glad you enjoy my rants, i often feel like im being overly mean but tbh were else could i just rant as much as my heart desires without getting spammed by annoying people (certainly not on twitter lol)
i have talked alot, and i mean ALOT, about totk and my issues with it, both lore and gameplay wise, i dont claim to be an expert on any, though i am an old zelda fan and aspiring gamedev, i really only talk about what i feel about it, what i think about it, and by all means im biased as hell xD
if you dont know yet, the "ganondoodles rants" tag is where all my rants go, so if you are interested in reading more on my totk thoughts thats the way to search (given tumblrs search in blog works ..)
and to answers your question, i have touched on it briefly, sending link back in time before the shiekah tech existed would have been an easy way to excuse how they jsut got .. rid of it, bc they didnt, it literally didnt exist yet- and for reusing the map- though that argument falls a little flat bc ... they coud have already done that in present totk, like i brought up in one of said rants, things like flooding gerudo desert, collapsing death mountain, drying out zoras domain etc, and changing the location of the main populations would have already done alot without having to redo the map in its entirety;
the little changes to map itself really wouldnt that big of a deal if they didnt also send you to the EXACT same locations AND repeat the SAME LOCATIONS AGAIN but in the underground, like thats a fact i have talked about multiple times bc its so illogical in every way, anywhere theres a settlement on the surface theres a bigger mine below, its so stupid, the shrines conenct to a lightroot, the same, again, you dont need to explore bc theres nothing TO explore (its also extra weird bc theres one below taburasa (tarrey town) which .... link literally build with dumsda (hudson) a few years ago .. unless that got retconned too idk wth do i know anymore honestly- AND it makes the sonau extra weird bc why the hell do they have a bigass mine under every settlement ESPECIALLY UNDER GERUDO TOWN like, that just adds to my suspicions towards them)
anyway, link to the past was the point and yes, it could have solved a few issues (mainly shiekah tech and the whole "story" taking place AGAIN in the past completely disconnected from you the player) i personally am not so much a fan of it, but that mostly comes down to me just not liking time travel, i dont like going back in time, i want to play and do things in the here and now, i want to repair the damages of the calamity, find out its origins, maybe fix that too, i love to learn about past stuff too, but that more in text, no literal flashback (unless done well), i want to connect to the past but it also holds alot of mystery that maybe shouldnt be touched upon, some mysteries and unkowns are much more interesting when left as such, i want to THINK about things and come to conclusions that are logical and makes sense in hindsight even if it wasnt clear at the start, i dont want information and what to think about it told to my face over and over like im stupid
after botw i really didnt care much about the past, maybe about the acient hero who alot of people specualted to be of gerudo origin due to its red hair- which also got a monkeys paw curled bc in totk they do sth with but its so stupid and insulting that i do not accept it as canon, say what they want, there are no dog people anywhere in the past nor present botw/totk wtf is that i hate it- and its not even .. why is that the reward for that, it has literally NOTHING TO DO WITH TOTK ITSELF I COULD YELLLL AAAARGH
main point is that really, i wanted to explore the past .. in the present, i hoped to find broken old shiekah structures, old labs and maybe some left over damage and records from when the old king persecuted the shiekah for their tech, i wanted to know where the ancient energy the shiekah used was coming from, what the boss arena in the middle of hyrule castle really was- so many things just discarded and acted like they never happened or mattered; i dont want to travel into the past, i want to discover whats left of it, piece it together, discover dark secrets you can ask no one about bc all that knew about it are long gone- thats what intrigued me about botw, it felt like there was so much left to discover only for totk to throw it all away and just do its own thing .. but not commit to that hard enough either so its neither its own thing nor a sequel-
.. that wasnt really what you wanted to know was it? xD sorry i tend to ramble on if someone seems to give me permission to
to sum it up, i think it COULD work, sending link to the past instead, if done well, but so could canon totk have been, it could have been done well but wasnt for reasons i dont know and tbh even fear bc i worry its sets a dark future ahead of zelda; i personalyl am just not a fan of time travel so i dont have that much to say to it :O
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resonancewitness · 19 days
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Loving me, you said, would mean falling in love with loneliness. 
But you should write, you said, your letters help me remember
our beginnings, the curve of your lips, what we are hoping for. 
Across the distance, amidst work travels, under surveillance, 
I want to help you remember. I want to help myself hope. 
I wish I could be in two places at once. I wish I could
steal you away from the mobs, keep you safe and happy, 
hide you selfishly in my sleeve, everyday, forever.
I wish I could, like the magical heroes of old, 
transfer my energy to help you heal.
In the meanwhile, bodies and souls thirst for sweetness, 
carry the ardent flame hidden, deep under the cool façade,
it is not easy to be a passionate youth this season. 
But I don’t wish to free myself from longing for you. 
Waiting for you, worrying that I will be forced to leave 
before you arrive, let me remind you what is that we are missing. 
From my memory and imagination to yours, let these 
blazing images drive you also, as they are driving me, 
marching double time, day and night, keeping the long view, 
running to you with all I have. 
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One thing about me is that I will stand by basically every bad deed of my favourite characters fully aware of them being bad deeds. I just don't care
#'He destroyed an entire city and tried to destroy the world *twice*!!!'#Yes and he was right to do so. The motives are good and the city is fake anyway. Drown it in the abyss‚ dear boy#'He caused the fall of Camelot!' have you considered Guinevere and him wanted each other desperately and with a heart wrenching longing?#I don't care about Camelot#'He manipulated children to get his way!' again good motives. That's actually my favourite trait of them. Cheers#'He was the cause of kids dying!!!' Yes and it was quite the rational choice both times. And he wanted to go home to his wife and kid#Quite sweet of him#The other wanted to see his most important person again and ease their loneliness. I couldn't care less about the children dying#It's the 'absolute loyalty and devotion to someone means betraying everything else' approach#They do shitty things to everyone else but don't harm what matters to them the most‚ or not on purpose?#They can go wild. I'll support them in every step#Slay Gawain even if I love him. Cut heads off. Manipulate and kill children. Destroy the world. Steal from the kid you raised. Have fun#I'll bring you a snack and some water when you're done!#I talk too much#I should probably delete this later#The examples here are Heathcliff‚ Jack Vessalius‚ Lancelot and Odysseus#but I'm really okay with basically everything my faves do every time#In Ovid' Heroides it is said in one of the letters that Helen wanted to be kidnapped#I like the potential of the idea. As if trying to gain glory‚ reclaiming it as her right as daughter of a god‚#and doing so in the way she can in her condition of woman (as opposed to someone like Achilles)#What can I say. I don't care if Hector dies and Odysseus is lost for twenty years#I mean‚ I do. I love them. But also... Good for her. Go take your glory‚ girl#Medea murders the kids? Avenge yourself. Clytemnestra murders Agamemnon? Avenge your daughter. Eat him later if you want#I don't stand by this interpretation (or not entirely) but is Cathy dying 'on purpose' to hurt Heathcliff and Edgar?#Destroy their lives. I love you#I just don't care. I fully support their wrongs. They're actually rights 😔#'He is scamming and manipulating people' is particularly funny to me because that's not even all that bad?#It's always the best trait of the characters that do so#And idk maybe the scammed manipulated people could have been smarter about it
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noxtivagus · 1 year
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i love love ffxiv sm fr (to the edge)
#I ACCIDENTALLY FELL ASLEEP LAST NIGHT 😭 my alarm didn't wake me up sob. gna do a lot today but rn i just.#wna listen to music n think to myself n write for a bit. hdfkalsjdf oh my god the effect to the edge has on me.#it's. genuinely probably. if i had to pick one song. wld be to the edge. hard choice but nothing else would be right.#n well. the fight's more for hmm i guess elidibus fans? apollo likes him more than me bcs i'm uhhhh an unfortunate emet-selch liker#but. that wave. THAT WAVE 🥹 such a simple movement but one that just. revealed the identity of that. yk shade that arrived#the bittersweetness in the whole exchange. n it hurts so much when you think of how. how they all used to be so happy#but now everything they've known is torn apart. for thousands of years.. that loneliness must've broken emet fr#the burden of all those lives lost. being able to see n feel them w his affinity w aether n the underworld#n then. elidibus forgot. n lahabrea's.. twisted beyond himself. tragic isn't it? n emet-selch's the only one that remembers#cries. but w endwalker what they did. i rmb crying so much throughout all that. gave me some closure fr 😭😭#n then when it comes to the musical comp too yk the. oh my god w neath dark waters yk the theme of amaurot n#the ticking.. time. n then the lyrics. i'm. technically catholic christian sob but i'm not religious n i'd consider myself agnostic.#but yk the references w the bible or christian mythology. n then the lyrics in general. 'we only fly when falling far from grace' 🥹🫶🏼#i love all the expacs in ffxiv sm i just have these phases where i'm all over each of them n rn it's shb#all the. expacs r like. arr was the start yk n i went through most of it w school n. it was comfort. esp bcs smth painful irl happened#around then. heavensward was. my fav expac at that time yk? for so many reasons.. alphi aymeric haurchefant n the story n drk n#end of the free trial. stormblood was the start of when we subbed. i cld finally play tgther w apollo. our freedom too in our own way#n then it was such a real story n touched on pain n. yk. rlly was a very compassionate story n i enjoyed thoroughly w my empathetic heart#shb was. my endgame for a while. i mean. we started out 5.3 but was still in the free trial n finally got the game 5.5#we started raiding n that's where most of our growth to who we are now happened. n the story is.. it's so. perfect.#i have a lot of memories in endwalker too but shb as an expansion was where most of my memories w other players n all happened#n. i'll ramble too much oh no but endwalker was. the first i experienced from the start. n the story is so.. oh my god#i have. the highest praise for ffxiv's story. obvs still has some of its faults here n there but the highs are worth indescribably much.#n i really mean each of those words. oh my god ffxiv rlly saved me. but i'll. also ramble more if i entertain that thought n write rn so#yk these. stories n songs n just wtvr. just has sm themes that. oh fuck it idk how to put it into words bcs it just all resonates w me sm#like. to the edge it has such a lovely composition n i love listening to every single part of it. n then the lyrics r so well-made. yk?#n then the story behind it too is.. they just put so much thought into it n w so much love n it's just so meaningful. it means so much to m#it just has. so much. n i find so much comfort in it. hdlkafjsd n then themes.. yk w amaurot for example n to the edge#underwater. angels. wings. remember. time. tomorrow. n then the stuff w morality n. just. sm of that has resonated a lot w me#ever since i was young so yk in finding ffxiv it was like i found smth that finally. finally matched w me n smth that'll continue for long
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dilemmaontwolegs · 17 days
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Angel || LN4
Summary: Kingsday gets a little wild, in honour of Lando’s nose. Warnings: alcohol, injuries, blood WC: 1.7k
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Lando wasn’t drunk, but he was by no means sober either. Everyone had warned him the Kingsday event was a marathon not a sprint so he was taking it slow, sipping his rum and coke out of the orange paper cup while the river boat cruised its course.
By midafternoon it was another story completely.
Martin had taken a break and let a playlist continue the party without him on the deck while he went in search of Lando. The British driver had reached the point of being tipsy and fallen into a state of drunkenness where he could no longer block out his intrusive thoughts. Everywhere he looked couples were dancing or making out and he couldn’t help the despair of loneliness that separated him from the fun.
Leaning back on the cushions that covered the bow, Lando looked up to the bright blue sky and wondered why he couldn’t find someone that loved him with the same passion he had. He was always the one to fall harder and knew it was why things didn’t work out long-term.
The half empty cup was stolen from his hand and Lando lolled his head to see Martin drinking it dry. “No more for you, my friend. Smile! It’s Kingsday: the sun is out and the music is loud.”
“Sorry,” Lando sighed, not quite able to muster up a real smile.
“What’s wrong?” Martin dropped onto a cushion beside him and nudged his shoulder until Lando spilled the thoughts he was harbouring.
“These heels are killing me,” you complained as they wobbled on the cobblestone. “Can we stop for a minute?”
There were groans from some of the guys in the group but their girlfriends silenced them. You smiled gratefully at your friends but knew they were in just as much pain after hours of drinking in the city for Kingsday. The thought of walking any further to the house party someone had invited everyone to nearly had you calling for a taxi, despite the chances of getting one next to nothing.
“Lennon said there will be tons of single guys at the party. In that dress you will totally pull a 10,” Sarah said as she leaned back against the bridge rail and rolled each ankle to ease the ache.
You laughed at the statement and mirrored her position, careful not to drop the glass you had accidentally stolen from the last bar. “Getting laid isn’t the problem, it’s getting the guy to stick around afterwards.”
“Relationships are overrated,” she said, blowing a kiss to Lennon when he looked her way and raised a brow. “Not ours, baby.”
You sighed longingly as they shared a smile. “I want what you guys have.”
“Well then you better hurry up because the love of your life might just be waiting for you. Wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?”
You rolled your eyes but decided that you would continue the walk barefoot and put your heels back on when you got to the house. Leaning against the rail, you balanced on one foot and reached for your heel just as a drunkard went flying past on his e-bike.
“Ah, shit!” you screamed as you lost your balance, toppling back over the rail and straight towards the murky water below.
Martin yawned as he listened to Lando’s long winded explanation for why he was alone and all his friends were in relationships.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was putting you to sleep,” he sassed.
“Well if you want some advice, from someone in a relationship, you’re not helping yourself moping around. For starters, you need to get up,” Martin encouraged as he rose to his feet and offered his friend a hand before the sunlight disappeared, the boat passing under one of the many bridges. “Love isn’t going to just fall into your lap-”
A scream pierced the air before a flurry of orange material crashed onto Lando, both their eyes squinting to readjust to the bright sunlight out of the tunnel.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you realised you were still alive and you looked around to see what had broken your fall. “Holy shit, I am so sorry!”
A stunned man sat beneath you and you reached for his face as you noticed the blood running down his nose. “Oh my god, did I do that? Are you alright? Shit, you probably don’t speak English.”
“He speaks English. It’s getting him to shut up that’s the problem,” a man standing above you said with a laugh. “Lando, mate, snap out of it.”
You started to climb off his lap but his arms tightened around you and he shook his head with a wince. “Don’t move, you might have broken something.”
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you apologised again.
“Not me, you muppet,” he laughed. “You might have broken something.”
You patted yourself down, straightening your dress back into place at the same time, but everything felt fine. You tested your wrists and ankles too, only to notice you had indeed broken things.
“What’s the damage?” Lando asked.
“Ego mostly,” you admitted sheepishly. “I think I broke my heel on your face.”
“Pretty sure that was your glass,” he said looking at what remained in your hand, the sting of the cut on your palm finally appearing when you noticed the blood on the broken glass. “How bad is it? Am I hideous?”
“You are still a 10,” you giggled after noticing he was devastatingly handsome, even with the cut across his nose. Grabbing the hem of your dress, you gently dabbed the blood away before realising that it was a stupid idea. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”
“Rabies,” his friend joked.
“Speak for yourself, mate,” Lando shot back and while they bickered jokingly you heard your name called from the river bank. “Is that your boyfriend?”
“Are you alive?” Lennon shouted as he ran along with the boat.
“Nope, I’ve died and gone to heaven!”
“I’ll let Sarah know!” He grew smaller as he stopped running and the boat continued downstream to some unknown destination.
“That’s my best friend’s boyfriend,” you explained as you patted your bra but found your phone missing. “Can I borrow your phone? I think mine drowned.”
Lando carefully shifted you so he could get to his pocket before settling you back on his lap. The grateful smile you gave him almost made him drop the device and he had to enter his passcode in twice before he got it right.
“Where is this boat heading to?” you asked as the dial tone connected. “Hey, it’s me, calm down, I’m alive.”
“Good, I’ll kill you myself! You gave me a fucking heart attack, woman!” You had to hold the phone away from your ear as she shouted her concern.
“I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m sorry for giving you a heart attack.”
“As you should be! Len said you landed on some guy. Is he hot?”
Your face heated and you knew he had heard the question with the curious look on his face. “Mhmm, very.”
“You should invite him to the party and do a little sexy dance for him!”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I kind of…broke his face.”
The silence was damning before you swore you heard her laugh from all the way upstream. “Only you could have the worst luck with men.”
“Trust me, I know all too well. Anyway, they are stopping at the Rose Bridge so I’ll just meet you guys there. Guess my luck isn’t all that bad.”
You ended the call and handed the phone back.
“What party are you going to?” Lando asked as he pocketed it again.
“I don’t know, it’s some house party. There’s a local DJ playing.”
Lando’s smile grew and he pointed to his friend. “Local DJ, ha!”
As it turned out the house party wasn’t actually a party at someone’s house and the DJ wasn’t just locally renowned. Once you were finally introduced to Lando’s friend you found out he was the DJ, Martin Garrix, and Lando was even more famous.
“I can’t afford a lawsuit,” you groaned when you realised you had practically assaulted a celebrity.
“It’s just a scratch,” Lando assured you after Martin found a first aid kick. His poor attempt at wrapping a bandage made Lando look like a mummy so you took the box yourself and found a couple of small butterfly stitches. “Nothing a kiss wouldn’t fix.”
You giggled at his flirty nature you had come to adore in the last hour and if you hadn’t drunk so much liquid courage at the bar you probably wouldn't have been able to lean closer and kiss his cheek. His skin was warm and soft beneath your lips and when you opened your eyes you found his blue eyes staring intently back. “Better?”
He shook his head. “Nope, I think it needs another try.”
“Hmmm, good idea.” You kissed his other cheek and grinned when he pouted. “No? One last try.”
Your fingers delighted in the feel of his soft hair as you combed the curls and dipped your head to his. Your heart rate spiked and you closed your eyes as you kissed his pillow-soft lips teasingly slowly before his hands cupped your face and he deepened the kiss.
You broke away with a small gasp and your eyes were wide with the want for more. It was a look reflected on Lando’s face as he gently stroked your heated cheeks.
“Hey, lovebirds! We’re here,” Martin called as the boat reached the canal edge.
You kicked off your broken heels and Lando frowned before he gave you his, looping his fingers into the straps of your shoes to carry them. You were already wearing his shirt since your dress had his blood on it and you were certain you looked at absolute mess.
“Ready to party, Angel?”
“Angel?”
“What else would I call a beautiful woman who fell from the heavens?” Lando wondered if he was making a mistake and moving to fast like he always did but it was too late, the question was already out there.
“You could call me your girlfriend.” You cringed in an instant. “I mean not tonight, that would be way too quick but-”
Lando cut you off with a kiss and you felt his smile against your lips before he asked, “How about tomorrow?”
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The crushing | joel miller x f!reader, 5.2k
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Summary: This is the story of a man who had everything in the palm of his hand and traded it all for an empty space in the hollow of his heart. Or This story follows Joel, two to three years after he cheated on his wife.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST, cheater!Joel, Joel's POV, this is NOT “The Falling” from Joel's POV, brief mention of smut (p i v) but nothing too graphic (I think), self-loathing, depression, therapy, flashbacks and memories from the past, alcohol consumption, Tommy being a supportive brother (eventually), as always let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: Ok, so, Joel gave me a whiplash on this one, he was either staring at me through the screen giving me nothing, or he was mumbling unintelligibly in my ear while I was trying to keep up with him. It started out as a final chapter, but I really think that this part should be Joel's POV and the next and -probably- final one should be the resolving, however that may come. I guess it can be read as a standalone, but if you're interested, it's a sequel to “The Falling”. I edited it seven thousand times because I kept adding things along the way, so I hope it all makes some sense and there are not too many mistakes.. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘
P.S.: I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I really appreciate everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and asked about “The Falling”. I honestly didn't think a single soul would take the time to read that kind of story. It means more than you know and I didn’t take lightly how close to home this fic hit for some people; yet you’ve given it a chance, sharing some of your own experiences with me. I love you all, take care and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! 🥹🫂
Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics
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...need your reassurance...
...your only focus…
...for the foreseeable future...
He did make it his sole focus. Because of course, he closed the deal, even after he left that damn table like a madman. He still found a way to get what he wanted. That's the man he was. And he wasn't sure if he hated himself for it or not. But self-loathing was a daily occurrence now, so one more reason added to the list was nothing he couldn't handle.
For two years he would wake up every day, is it called waking up if he doesn’t sleep at all?, he would work his ass off, he would go home, he would sink into despair and then he would start all over again the next day. A vicious cycle consisting of 730 days in a row. The deafening silence within the walls of the house was excruciating, the loneliness was unbearable. Even the light penetrating through the windows seemed different than when you were there with him, a dullness surrounding every corner of the now barely lived in space.
You. He hadn’t seen your face in 730 days. He hadn’t smelled your scent or touched your soft skin. He barely listened to your voice anymore, any form of unavoidable communication, you preferred to be conducted by the lawyers, or via text messages, at the most. At the 731st one, he finally knew, something had to change. He couldn’t repeat another day, like all the others that came and went. He simply couldn’t.
Tommy suggested that therapy might help Joel, a few times, but he refused every one of them. Maria was keeping her distance, her place was delicate, being his brother’s wife but also his wife’s best friend. Surprisingly, she was the one who finally got through to him.
“Are you gonna stay a recluse for the rest of your miserable life, then?” Maria wonders, switching her gaze between Joel and the dining room. Everything was untouched, as you left them when you moved out, but the place felt empty, depressing, probably mirroring Joel’s existence.
Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not a recluse..”, he snarls through his teeth, rolling his eyes at her. He was more than eager to be done with the dinner his sister-in-law insisted on having in his house and be left alone, in his natural state. Alone. Infuriating woman.
“What do you call that?”, Maria persists, goddamn lawyer to the bone.
“What?!” Joel spits back pissed off, looking at his brother next, for support.
“That!” she gestures around his body and his surroundings. “The way you go on for the past two years! Either get over it or do something about it!”, she doesn’t hold back, even when Tommy proposes a gentler approach. Yeah, look where it got you, is the paid answer, so Tommy steps back, shaking his head and raising his hands up in surrender.
“You’ve got him on a leash, hm?”, Joel jokes absentmindedly, “Can you breathe alright, Tommy boy?”, earning himself a hard glare from Maria.
“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..” Maria mutters, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in horror.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Joel retorts doing a double back at her.
“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”, Maria throws her napkin on her plate and leaves the room. Joel remains silent, pondering the meaning of her words. It would be a long time before he understood what she meant.
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Therapy was hard.
Therapy was hard because he had to do it for himself. He had to concentrate on himself. He thought, being the contractor that he was, that he would walk into the room, get the answers he needed and fix his marriage, just as he rearranged the bricks and the wood and the steel on the construction sites.
But this wasn’t about his marriage. His marriage and the way it crumbled down was the aftermath, he came to learn. It was the outcome of insecurities, selfishness, lack of communication, ungratefulness.
He got it all wrong. Everything. Every little thing. He had to rewire his brain and change every point of view he was holding onto. Honesty. Honesty was the key.
“Why didn’t you reach out to your wife after that night?”, his therapist insists.
“I respected her boundaries.”, Joel was quick to respond.
“And what were those?”
“She didn’t want to see me.”
“Did she say that?”
“No-, I mean-, the way she left that night, she didn’t say much in general. But she blocked my number, so.”, he shrugs in defence.
“So, how can you be so sure that she didn't want to see you? Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that she didn't expect a reaction from you, or that you weren't allowed to try, if that’s what you wanted.”
“Why would she? I upset her, she needed time to think, work things out.”, Joel explains.
The therapist swipes her fingers over her lips, contemplating her approach. “Joel, you walk into your bedroom, into what is supposed to be a safe place and you see your partner with another person in an intimate moment. How does that make you feel? Just say the first words that come to mind.”, his therapist changes the point of view.
Joel shudders just at the thought of it. You, naked, flushed, lips parted and swollen, skin sweaty, breaths short and pupils blown wide, coming for anyone other than him. It would utterly destroy him. “Furious, pissed, betrayed, heartbroken.. I think I would lose it, if I’m honest.” he admits instantly, in his haste to throw the abomination of this image from his thoughts.
“I see. But in her case, you think your wife was just upset?”
“No, of course not.” Joel slightly frowns, shaking his head.
“Do you think she felt all those feelings that you just described to me?”
“I believe so, yes.”, god this is so hard.
“You believe so?” the therapist pushes, again.
Joel’s nostrils flare from the sharp inhale, “I know so.”
“So, she wasn’t just upset.” the therapist concludes and Joel agrees without meeting her eyes, “No, she wasn’t.”
Over time, Joel came to realize that his choice of words was a subconscious attempt to diminish the seriousness of his actions.
“You said in a previous session that you gave space to your wife to work things out.”
“Yeah, it was only fair.”, Joel confirms.
“So, it was hard for you to give her that space?”
“Yes, of course, I missed her every day.”
“Was that a constant in your relationship?”, the therapist wonders.
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”
“How did you work things out as a couple, before? I assume you had difficult times as partners, no?”
“Nothing major to be honest, my wife was a very calm and reasonable person. If anything occurred she would talk to me about it.”
“And how did you respond to that?”
“Uh, I was there to listen, we always found a solution together as a couple.”
“Hmhm, so, what changed this time?”
“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.
“Why didn’t you talk to her? Communicate with her? Maybe help her see your side of things, like you did before, find your way out of this together, as partners.” his therapist explains. “And even before the infidelity, did you let her know that something was bothering you, that you felt differently?”
"I didn't feel differently about my wife. My feelings for her never changed.", he immediately corrects her. "My love for her was never the problem," he confesses and it's the first time since his therapy began that he's shared something so personal, so private.
“But there was a problem, something was wrong if you felt the need to be intimate with another woman. So, why did you keep that from her?”
Joel opens his mouth already knowing he does not have an answer. Or that he doesn't want to give one. He shakes his head, raising his brows in a silent admission that he can’t answer that. Or he won't. His gaze is fixed on a loose thread on the fabric of the couch, his fingers keep picking on it.
“Joel?”
“I- I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t know.” he keeps shaking his head. He can’t answer that. He won't.
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He was so angry when he left the session that day. He was so angry at you. He was angry at your honesty, your clarity, your courage to have a mind of your own and to speak it freely, knowing full well that probably no one else shared the same opinions as you did. That's what he loved most about you, but now he hated it.
“Own it, Joel. Own what you have done. At least that way it will be worth something. Otherwise it was all for nothing.”
This was one of the last things you said to him on the phone, while he was trying to persuade you to change your mind about the divorce. You were always so brave about those matters. Matters of the heart, of integrity. He remembers you always talking about things that he found admirable but utopian. Easy in theory, hard in practice.
“I need to be able to sleep at night. I need to own my decisions; not because I’m always right, far from it, but at least I know I’m being honest with myself. And that matters.” he recalls one of your late-night talks.
You usually found it easier to share your most vulnerable thoughts once you were thoroughly fucked and satiated. When Joel held you in his arms, your breaths almost shared over the same pillow, your scents and your fluids mixed together.
“We’re all imperfect beings, flawed; we all feel embarrassed when we fuck up,” you continue, “it’s hard to admit our mistakes to others, I get that. But deep down we always know what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Admitting it only helps us to be present in our lives.”
“Be present?”, Joel seems fascinated by the way your mind weaves your thoughts together into deeply rooted beliefs.
“Yes, my love, there's no greater freedom than to live your life truthfully.” you smile at him, softly. Your sleepy eyes roam his face affectionately. Your fingertips caress his jawline, your thumb pressing lightly against the bare patch of his beard. He can feel your devotion pouring from your fingers and sinking into his skin at that moment.
“That’s one of my greatest fears, you know. Living my life in ignorance, in a lie.”, you whisper your deepest insecurity against his soft lips. His hold on you tightens as he rolls you onto your back, nestling his hips between your welcoming thighs. You are safe in these arms. His arms. You surrender to him, body and soul. You can feel his growing erection pressing between your folds, already wet from your combined releases. He tenderly brushes his lips against yours and slowly licks his way into your parted mouth, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He enters you in one fluid, slow thrust, his warm exhale cooling your wet lips. “Then let me give you something real.”
Thinking back to those moments, Joel couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that he was the one who had brought that fear of yours to life. What broke him was that it was not a lie. Your life together had not been a lie. He loved you. In fact, he was burning up for you. He was a man of control, but not with you. Never with you. You consumed his every thought; being around you for too long made his lungs constrict in pain, begging for a deep breath. Sometimes he was worried sick that if he completely let himself love you like he needed to, he would suffocate you. He loved you. And it killed him that his actions suggested otherwise.
But at some point he had to be honest with himself. He was just protecting his ego. He was trying to get the upper hand out of a shitty, compromising situation. He wasn't being thoughtful, he was being selfish. He was biding his time. He thought the longer he left ‘it’ untouched, the less it would hurt when the inevitable time of confrontation came. He was scared out of his mind that he would lose you forever. No second chances, no redemption, no reconciliation.
No lingering scent on his pillow as your hair pools there, under his chin, as you nestle your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. No laughter through the enormous house, damn, why did he build it so big; you never clarified what the disbelief in your eyes meant when he said he built this house for you, while he pulls you up on your feet for a silly cowboy dance.
No more gentle touches, no more noses brushing together as a silent goodbye in the kitchen before you rush off to work. No more turning around just before you open the door to leave, running to him like a little girl, giving him quick, hungry pecks on the lips while he laughs on your mouth, squeezes your butt cheek and slaps it playfully to say goodbye. Later, baby, he would promise you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and he could feel your skin crawling with anticipation.
No more I love yous, either breathed, either whispered, either panted, as he makes a home for himself inside your warmth.
When did he fuck you last? He used to have you every day. You craved it every day. You craved him. Why did he stop telling you he loved you every chance he got? When was the last time you said it?
A week before that fateful night, when you touched him longingly, aching for him to touch you back and he told you he had work to do, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he sit there and watch the light fading from your eyes? I love you, you said with a sigh against his temple and walked out of his office defeated. Why did you say that? Did you know? Did you suspect? Why didn’t you fight him? You should have said something, anything, pushed him, punched him in the chest, woken him up. Would he have woken up? Or did he need that to come to his senses? Does he have to fall? Does this falling ever stop? Does he have to let you go? Will you come back to him? Does he deserve you?
Days blurred seamlessly into one another. Joel drifted further and further away from everyone. The house haunted him, all the progress he was making within the therapy walls was dissipating once he stepped inside the cold space of his empty house. Leaving the confines of it was his first thought in the morning, while he hurriedly dressed to go to his office far earlier than necessary and his last when he closed his eyes, as he laid his weary limbs on the couch, chasing still your now long gone scent on its fabric, knowing another sleepless night was his only companion until the first rays of sunlight hit the floor-to-ceiling windows to announce the beginning of another day.
People at work tiptoed around him, not knowing how to act. It was as if he was there, but not really. He was focused solely on the Marks project, mechanically going through board meetings, paperwork and supervising the construction site. He. Just. Wasn’t. There.
Joel, will you please sign the papers?
He simply stares at the text message for a good full minute, his thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone. This was one of the rare occasions you had initiated communication with him, always about the progress of the divorce.
No, no, I won’t, the little toddler in him screams, stamping his little feet on the ground.
The papers are not ready.
Joel texts back. He keeps it simple, frightened he might not get an answer back.
Joel, we both know they are. I don’t want any of your assets or your money; this is an easy signature, please.
An easy signature? You think he cares about the houses, or the cars, or the money?
You know I can’t accept that. The house is yours and so is a good part of the money.
The point was to share this house together, Joel, don’t you think us splitting up kind of defeats the purpose? And what on earth makes you think I would ever want to go back in there?
So, there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you?
Easier? You think money or property can make up for what you’ve done?
Of course not, I wasn’t implying anything like that. Just wanna do something for you, anything.
Can you turn back time?
Of course, he can't. So, he doesn't know what to say to that. He just keeps staring at the screen, lost in thought. After 2 minutes another text follows.
?
You know I can’t..
Sign the papers. Please.
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“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today, or should I take the lead?”
“Actually I’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”, Joel suggests for the first time. He usually lets the therapist decide where to steer the conversation, then simply refuses to elaborate until he feels ready to talk.
“What about it?”, he shifts his gaze from the window to the direction of her voice.
“I should probably rephrase that. I’m always thinking about that night, repeating it in my head again and again and I’m troubled by something I realized.”
His therapist nods to signal that she's listening.
“Why did she just leave? The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense to me. She just left. No shouting, no breaking things, no attacking either me or-”, her. “Why she didn’t stay? Why she didn’t insist that I leave? She was just- so quiet.”
The therapist smiles in recognition of Joel's near breakthrough. They were beginning to get somewhere, his empathy nudging him under the surface.
“I'm really glad you mentioned that, Joel, so I'd like to take you back to that night and try to understand what might have been going through your wife's mind at that moment," she explains.
“So, she walks into the house, finds her safe space violated by her husband, and she chooses to handle the situation calmly and quietly-” Joel tries to stop her, but she already knows what he's going to ask. “I can't tell you why she chose that path, that's for her to answer, only she knows why.” His therapist continues, “She is making one request of you and one request only, can you tell me what it is?”
“She asked me to leave the house.”
“Hmhm.” the therapist looks at him expectantly.
“I just wanted to talk to her.”, Joel elaborates, “I thought that if I refused to leave, she would accept to listen to me.”
“So you forced your needs on her, while she was in a particularly fragile state of mind.”
“I should have made my intentions clearer, you mean?”
“I mean, that maybe you shouldn’t have had any expectations in the first place. Why do you think was so important to you, to explain yourself right at that moment?”
“Because I knew it was probably the last time I would see her for a while, I just wanted to ease her pain, why is that so wrong? Should I be indifferent? Would that be better?”
“Did it ever occur to you that you might be depriving her of her right to choose?” Come on, Joel, break some eggs.
Joel now begins to make connections. He rubs his hand over his face, the realization of what has really happened crushing him. “Oh, god, I-” He's been so selfish from the start. He hasn't shown you any respect, not even at this delicate moment. He didn't give you a choice as to whether you wanted to listen to him or not. He didn't even let you choose where you wanted to stay. He just made you leave the house. Did he make you believe he wanted you to leave? That he wanted her to stay? Because he didn’t. Fuck. “-I never thought about it like that.”
Fuck.
How could he be so blind? Why was he so blind?
His therapist insisted on it. Because no matter how much progress Joel made over the course of a year, he never revealed the true reason behind his infidelity.
“Joel, we’ve talked about a lot of things; you’ve tried really hard to make this all about your wife and about understanding what she was feeling and how your actions have affected her, but as I keep reminding you”, she smiles understandingly, “you’re the one in therapy, you need to heal your wounds before you even attempt to heal hers. And although it is in fact a really noble thought, this” she gestures between them, “can only work if you do it for yourself. I know it may sound selfish, but I promise you, it is not. It is the exact opposite.”
Fuck.
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“Yeah?”, his voice hoarse from sleep as he answers the door after the insistent knock at it. Tommy looks at him surprised once he opens it, “You’re sleeping, already?”. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t call it that. But when he goes almost a week without any proper rest, passing out is the right word for what he’s doing. “Yeah, I guess I dosed off..” Joel lies. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.” Tommy responds as he squeezes himself through the door to enter the house. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”, Joel mutters under his breath. “You just saw me at work this morning, is everything all right?”
“I just came to check on you.” Tommy confesses uncomfortably.
“You could have called.”
“Would you have answered?” Tommy deadpans.
Touché.
“Tell Maria I’m fine, Tommy, no need to worry about me; go spend the night where it counts.”, Joel replies in an attempt to push him away, as he walks farther into the house, rounding the kitchen island.
“Hey, brother, I’m here, I am here for you.” Tommy’s eyes narrow in pain and concern as he stares at his sibling's back, following behind him.
Joel exhales hard through his nose, his grip tight as he grabs the edges of the counter, his head lowering between his shoulder blades.
“You shouldn’t, nobody should.” Joel sighs, rubbing the pads of his fingers across his forehead.
“Ok, that’s enough.” Tommy snaps at him. “Enough self-loathing, enough resignation. Enough. You’ve punished yourself enough.”
Joel laughs at that. “Is that right? Is it enough for you? What about her?” he asks, his head turned to the side, looking at his brother over his shoulder.
“What?” Tommy is genuinely confused.
Joel turns his back, resting his waist on the edge of the counter, now looking straight at Tommy. “I should have what? Just get on with my life? Let it all be water under the bridge? Disrespect her even more?”
“Jesus..” Tommy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other resting on his hip, his eyes shut in frustration.
“Are you doing this for her? Does she even know that?”
“It doesn’t matter, Tommy!” Joel raises his voice, exasperated. “I’m not doing this for her, I’m not doing anything for her, apparently and that’s the problem.”, his voice breaks, the lump in his throat too big to push down. “She’s not here anymore, Tommy.” he’s standing fully on his feet now, pushing himself away from the counter, leaning slightly forward, like he’s trying to make his brother understand; his eyes are glazed, Tommy had never seen him so devastated before. “She’s gone. I’ve lost her.”, his palms clenched in fists in front of his chest, resisting the urge to wrap them around his shirt and rip it to shreds, as he wants to do with his heart.
“I thought therapy was working..” Tommy whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor beneath him.
“Oh, it’s working, all right!” Joel chuckles in irony, sniffing his nose. “I’m getting a front-row seat, witnessing what a piece of shit I am-”
“Hey!” Tommy tries to cut him off.
“-what on earth was she doing with me to begin with, is beyond me.”
“HEY!” Tommy's eyes bulge out of his sockets, angry at his brother's self-deprecating words. Joel bends his waist forward, puts his elbows on the island in front of him and lets his head sink in again.
“Ok.” Tommy breathes deeply to ground himself, his hands in a position of a prayer in front of his mouth, “Ok, we could both use a drink.” he realizes, as he moves to open the cupboard to grab two tumblers and the whiskey from the shelf with the drinks. “..or five.”
The two brothers drink their first round in silence, both calming their nerves down. Tommy refills their glasses without asking; he knows this is going to be a long night.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Tommy begins, pushing Joel’s drink back towards him. Joel wringles his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about? You’re always there for me.”
“No, I haven’t, not really.” Tommy admits, “I let Maria take over when all this happened and I’m sorry.”
“There was nothing you could do, Tommy, don’t sweat it.”
“Let me say this, please.” Tommy raises his hand, his palm facing his brother. “I was just- fuck, we all knew how much you loved her, how much you loved each other, so when it all went down, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. What to say to you, how to comfort you. I didn't know how to deal with you.”
“You blamed me.” Joel says matter-of-factly.
“No-”, Tommy weakly refuses but Joel shakes his head dismissively, interrupting him. “It’s ok, Tommy, you should.”
Tommy looks embarrassed, his cheeks slightly pinkish, not only from the whiskey. “It’s just that I- I couldn’t reconcile the image of the man you were with her, with.. you know..”, he stutters.
“..the image of a cheater. Say it.” Joel adds.
Tommy shakes his head, like he still can't believe what's happened. “Besides, while she was staying with us those first few weeks I saw how devastated she was, man- she was a shell of a woman, so I was confused, I didn’t know how-”
“Tommy. Tommy, it’s fine.” Joel feels his skin crawl visualizing you like that in his head, cutting his brother off once again; he deserves every ounce of mistrust and he knows it.
“No, it’s not.” Tommy insists. “Yes, you fucked up. Brother, you really did. You did a number on her-”, Joel’s body tenses instantly at his brother’s words, his jaw clenching as his eyes darken, moving down to his hands, his grip on the tumbler tightening, his knuckles turning white and Tommy stops abruptly, “shit, sorry, I didn’t mean-”, his face twitches with regret.
“It’s the truth. That’s exactly what I did.” Joel’s gaze seems detached as if he's somewhere else right now.
“What I meant to say, is that I should have been there for you in spite of what has happened. I can see you're suffering, it's taking its toll on you, it has been for some time now; tell me what I can do. How can I help you?” Tommy seems almost desperate, like he’s the one in need of redemption.
Your text flashes through his mind, can you turn back time?, making him smile bitterly.
“Can you turn back time?” Joel's repeating your question and as the words leave his mouth he can feel your presence next to him. That's the most he felt of you for the last three years. He's almost blissful.
“You know I can't.” Tommy sighs. Joel laughs earnestly, the irony of the moment too good not to appreciate.
“Joel, brother, please, just talk to me. Help me understand. You act like you’re the one who’s been cheated on. So, what happened? Why did you do it?” Tommy is pleading with him to give him anything.
Silence fills the room for much longer than either of them would like. Joel feels torn between telling his brother everything or keeping his mouth shut. He wants to tell him, he hasn’t told a soul, but he’s not sure he can get the words out. He’s not sure he can bear to hear the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not sure he can substantiate it, make it real. Because that’s how it feels. He talks about it and it becomes real.
But maybe this is the right thing to do. That’s what needs to be done. He needs to talk about it. He needs to tell the truth and admit the pain he’s caused. Make it real for you, too. Perhaps it is time for him to give you what is rightfully yours. Acknowledgment.
Joel’s made up his mind. He’s gonna talk to Tommy. He lifts his glass to down his drink for some liquid courage, freezing his hand in mid-air as the next words fall from his brother’s mouth. “First of all, who was it?”
“What?” Joel's eyes search Tommy’s through his glass for an explanation.
“Who did you do?”, Tommy clarifies.
Joel feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Who did you fuck, Joel?”, Tommy begins to feel confused, are they not on the same page here?
“You don’t know?”, Joel can barely speak now, his voice low in shock.
“No one does, not even Maria; she never told anyone.”
You told nobody? Not even your best friend? Why on earth would you do that? Did you feel ashamed? Was it just too much to talk about?
But his brain takes pity on him, helping him for once to understand. He’s connecting the dots while your voice fills the corners of his mind through his memories. His head is swarming with images of you standing in that walk-in closet, remembering what you said the last time he saw you. You’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.
You were right.
It didn’t matter who it was. That is why. He was the one making the choice. He was the one breaking his promises, breaking your trust, breaking your heart; breaking you. He was the one who should have known better. He was the one who should have been honest. Easy in theory, hard in practice.
He feels a fresh wave of pain scattering through his body. He welcomes it. Damn, he’s craving it. He’s glad you chose to withhold the identity of the woman. Not because somehow it’s making it easier for him to defend himself, on the contrary.
There’s no one else to blame. Nobody. Just him. All of the anger, the resentment, the disappointment, all of them on him. He embraces them all. Everything. He will take it all, swallow it down and let it rot inside of him.
Joel tells Tommy everything. Everything, but her name.
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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre
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die-rosastrasse · 10 months
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I have romanticized my life to such an extreme point, I feel like I'm living in some sort of unattainable fairytale. It's blissful and full of wonders, but I sometimes experience loneliness, being so away from the world of other people, feeling like they don't want to open up and show any sign of excitement, of love. I live in a perfect bubble that is pink and heart-shaped and I'm fine with it. I'm constantly surprised that people aren't falling to their knees and screaming with joy at every flower, tree, poem, painting, the way the golden sunrays light up the forest, the colors of the clouds, the sounds of summer evening. And honestly, why don't you? What's in your world that's so powerful, it made you indifferent to the beautiful things that surround you all the time? If your reality means any less delight, any less everyday ecstasies, I'm choosing my handmade fairytale and I'm going to live in it until I die with hymns on my lips.
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emmasbrain · 18 days
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Miscommunication (the fun kind)
Part 1 | Part 2
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Warnings: slight alcohol consumption? i think that’s all, nothing NSFW in this one
Synopsis: Your good friend Penelope sees you in a bar and begs you to sit with her and her work friends. You realise you like one. She also realises you like one. She however, thinks you like the wrong one.
The moment Penelope spotted you, she gasped. “Oh my god!” You spun round on your seat on the bar towards her running over to you in unrunnable heels, a brilliant smile gracing her face and a surprised one falling to yours as you saw each other.
“Penelope?” You hopped off your bar stool and pulled her into a hug. “It’s been too long darlin’. I feel like we haven’t seen each other in years.” You gushed, definitely over exaggerating your circumstances.
“Didn’t we go for coffee last Thursday?” She giggles, and you see the familiar glint in her eye that she only got after a couple of margaritas.
“Like I said, years!” You giggled right back, and she held your hands, leaning in towards you more.
“Who are you here with?” She questioned, looking around.
You shrugged casually, “I came with some girls from work, but they all left with guys and I decided to drink my loneliness away… Except I haven’t actually had a drink yet because I’ve been sitting here debating whether I really want to drink alone.” Your words, though holding a little weight, came out with a laugh and a self deprecating sigh.
Penelope gave you a look, and you knew she was brewing something. “What if… you come sit with us?” Before you can ask questions or protest, she continues, “You know I’ve always wanted to introduce you to the team, which is who I’m here with, and it would be good for you too ‘cus it means you can drink not on your own.” She gives you puppy dog eyes, and clasps her hands together waiting for your answer.
You relent, deciding the sooner you had an interaction with her FBI friends the sooner it was over. You had heard some things, and they seemed lovely, but they were her friends and you had the feeling you wouldn’t be very welcome with your job as a journalist. “Okay fine, but you can’t mention my job. I don’t want them to hate me on the first impression.”
“It’s okay they know, I told them ages ago about what you do. Alright you stay here, I’ll go tell them and then I can introduce you.” She was practically buzzing, so excited you could see it in the air around her. She shuffled away happily, and came back to drag you over a moment later.
As you approached the group, she introduced you in order of where they sat around the table. “That’s JJ, Derek, David, Hotch, Emily, and Spencer. Everybody, this is my friend Y/N.” She smiles all big and goofy and then scrunches up her face in disappointment. “There’s no chairs left.”
You take this as an opportunity. “Well, I suppose that means I should g-“
“Here, you can have mine. I’ll grab one from over there.” Spencer quickly finds a solution, standing to walk over to an unused table and fetch another chair. You follow him with your eyes as he lifts it over. Doctor Spencer Reid. Penelope had mentioned the man on multiple occasions. Ever the problem solver, you gathered from her ramblings on the things he would do and say.
Penelope sits in the chair between JJ and Derek, and the latter lets his arm rest on Penelope’s shoulders. As you sit down in Spencer’s sacrificed chair, he pulls another one in between you and JJ, and you both awkwardly smile at each other before you look down to your hands in your lap. “Thank you.” You whisper to him.
“What for?” He whispers back.
“The chair.” You mumble, and he nods.
“It’s no problem.”
“Okay, I say we get some drinks. How bout it, pretty girl?” Derek's words snap you from your awkwardness, and you smile, realising he’s given you a nickname already.
“I am in dire need of a beer.” You reply, and Emily looks at you from your right.
“Beer, huh? I woulda coined you for a vodka redbull kinda girl. All for the thrills.” She looks at you with a smirk and you shake your head with a giggle.
“I’m normally a whiskey kinda girl actually, I get that from my parents. I only very rarely drink vodka, it just makes me want to make out with people.” The embarrassment soaks in the moment the words come out of your mouth and you realise you’ve just told a group of behavioural analysts that vodka makes you horny.
“Alcohol oftentimes does have the effect of making you sexually confident and can heighten feelings of affection and make you more open to try things sexually. One could assume that your specific set of hormones are just more affected by the chemicals in vodka in comparison to other alcohols.” Spencer pulls his lips into a straight line, and you giggle at his readily available information. Penelope wasn’t joking.
“Thanks, Doc.” You bump his shoulder, and he looks a little confused but mumbles a “No problem” anyway. As he looks away towards Derek and Penelope, you take the chance to study his features discreetly. The angle of his jaw perfectly contrasts the softness of his eyes, the honey brown colour almost sparkling within the dim lighting of the bar. His cheeks are tinged pink from the currently inaudible teasing from Derek, and there’s a little smile on his lips that you could almost envision yourself kissing.
Derek breaks you out of your head a second time. “Hey pretty girl, you wanna go get those drinks now?” He flashes you a grin and you smile, nodding.
“Yea let’s do it. Does everyone know what they want?” As you’re trying to split everyone’s orders between you and Derek, Penelope gives you a look that says “do you have the hots for my friend?” and you give her a look back that says “maybe..” she gasps and the whole table turns to look at her, making her realise that she’d turned the conversation into an out loud one now.
“You know what? Us girls can handle those drinks, Derek. Why don’t you have a seat.” She drags you up to the bar and orders quickly before she forgets, and then whips round to face you.
“You like him. I saw it on your face. You like him!!” She whisper shouts and you glance back to Derek and Spencer hunched over the table chatting. You smile.
“Look at him! Of course I like him, who wouldn’t like him? He’s simultaneously cute and hot and I swear men aren’t supposed to work like that.” You whisper shout back at her, and her smiles sadly.
“I wish I could set you up, but he’s taken. And his girlfriend is amazing so I can’t even be mad about it.” She sighs, and you slightly deflate.
“Oh man, I can’t believe the first time in years that I actually want a guy he’s taken. Just my luck, I suppose.” You laugh, and grab the drinks that have been sat on the bar. “Well, it was nice while it lasted.” You shrug your shoulders and head back over to the table with her, handing everyone their drinks and sitting back next to Spencer to sip your own.
After an hour or so, conversation was going a tad dry, and you decided to use an old icebreaker your college roommate had taught you to get things flowing again. “Okay, one after the other I want everyone to tell the group something embarrassing. It can be anything, as long as it’s about you.” Everyone nods in agreement, and Derek starts.
“There was this one time I was flirting with a girl while I was out with my mom. Now that was my first mistake, my mom comes over and starts talkin to this girl askin if she’s my girlfriend. I said momma I’ve only just met her, and she said ‘well then you better hurry up, this girl is far too beautiful for you to pass up’. Before I could even speak, the girl says ‘I think you’re too beautiful to pass up’. She was talkin to my mom! And I just thought hey maybe she’s just tryna get on moms good side, you know? You win over mom, you win over me. But then she spent 10 minutes flirting with my mother until I had to drag her away. My mom will not stop bringing it up just to mock me.”
Spencer cracked up beside you at the story, and you couldn't help laughing a little with him.
Penelope pipes in, “Tell them when this happened.” He grimaces.
“Last year.” He barely says it loud enough to hear, but you all catch it and it sends you all into a fit of laughter.
Rossi reminisces about the time he proposed to one of his ex wives, and she said no. In public. Then later in the day said yes, telling him she just wanted to embarrass him the way his public proposal had embarrassed her.
Hotch talks of the time he finished work early and decided to pick up Jack from school. The teacher had asked him if he was Jack’s grandfather, and he had to explain that he most definitely was not.
“I once hugged my friend from behind to tell her goodbye at a party. It wasn’t my friend.” Is all Emily gives for details. She grimaces at the sheer memory of it, and you can’t help the little smile that graces your lips.
“My turn then?” You question the group, and they nod. “I probably should’ve used this time to think of what I was gonna say. Well I suppose I’ll use the only one that’s currently present in my mind,” You turn to face Spencer, “I was gonna ask you out before Penelope had to drag me away and tell me you were taken. Which was slightly embarrassing for me in the moment, but as I’m saying this I realise I’ve just embarrassed myself even more.” You nod through your internal pain at how stupid you felt, and took a deep breath before trying to move on. Spencer looked too taken aback to let that happen.
“You were gonna ask me out? And Penelope told you I was in a relationship? Why would she do that?” He looks plain confused now, and you mirror his expression.
“I never told you Spencer was in a relationship. I told you Derek was in a relationship, because I thought he was the friend you said you liked! Wait. So when you said he was hot you meant Spencer?” Now even Penelope looked confused, although not exactly for the same reason you were.
“Yes! Of course I meant Spencer! No offence Derek, you’re lovely but you’re not my type.” You rushed, giving him a sheepish smile.
“And I am?” Spencer speaks again.
“Pretty much yea.” The smile he gives you at your words makes you look away nervously.
“So what you mean is that if you hadn’t been told I was taken I could have went on a date with you?” He’s looking inquisitively at your face now, tracing for signs of a lie as he waits for you to respond.
“You still could go on a date with me.” You suggest, with a little shrug and a smile that reaches your eyes.
“I’d like that.” He nods, slightly enthusiastic but trying to play it cool.
“Me too.” You nod with him. “I should probably be heading home, I have work I still need to catch up on. But I could give you my number and you could take me to your favourite place or something. Somewhere I can get to know you just from looking around.” You suggest, gathering your things and scribbling your number down on a spare napkin.
“That sounds good- great. That sounds great.” His eyes are filled with a mixture of excitement and something else you’re not sure about, but the look on his face makes you smile.
“Call me then.” You nod finally, getting up to leave. You give everyone their goodbyes, hugging them all lightly and giving Spencer a little wave.
Over the next few days the anticipation of his call is almost overwhelming. And when your phone begins to ring, an unfamiliar number popping up on the screen, you bite your nail before clicking the answer button. “Hello?”
“Hi.”
A/N: I don’t actually really like this, but it’s fine. I wanna do a part two, someone tell me to do a part two plsplsplspls. (May rewrite this once i’m not jet lagged and cramming it between studying but idk)
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candy-heart-brew · 2 months
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I've seen some fans theorize that the lyrics to "Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight" tie into Frank's developing relationship with Eddie, potentially foreshadowing a grisly end for a favorite mailman. The lyrics are incredibly emotional and poor Frank sounds like he's fighting back tears during this entire record, making it feel like there's something more going on under the surface. While it's entirely possible that this is meant to foreshadow Frank and Eddie eventually being separated, I think the song's symbolism could be pointing to a different direction...
I touched a bit on this in a different post but to summarize: the attitude that Frank displays during "Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight" is completely at odds to his reaction to Eddie at the party. During BaBaG he's sad but resigned to fate, he knows that hibernation is inevitable but takes a bit of comfort in the knowledge that it's only temporary and that his loneliness will only last through winter. So, he does his best to power through, keep his personal feelings out of it, and assure his little friends that he'll be alright.
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By contrast, his reaction to Eddie's behavior at the party is one of panic and confusion. He doesn't understand what's happening to Eddie or why he's suddenly gone unresponsive, he just knows that he isn't acting like himself at all and he can't accept that. He refuses to leave Eddie alone even after being ignored, continuing to push until he gets a response, at which point he immediately realizes something is wrong and tries to push further, only stopping when Eddie leaves. At this point in the story they don't appear to be especially close but Frank's terrified reaction speaks volumes about his true feelings for Eddie. And if this is how he reacts to him being quieter than usual, I can't imagine that he'd be much calmer or more composed in the event of losing Eddie altogether. IMO, he's far more likely to get angry and demand answers rather than wax poetic. So while "Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight" could potentially foreshadow Eddie's fate, Frank's subdued reaction makes me question that interpretation. I do think there's a deeper meaning to BaBaG, that Frank is singing about something other than bugs, just not Eddie. But then who? Well, as we found out in this last update, bugs are not the only creatures in the neighborhood that hibernate...
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Think about it for a moment- Julie is going to be gone for months, leaving Frank all alone without his best friend. Who's going to invite him to games now? Who's going to listen to him about his interests and laugh at his jokes? Who's going to bake gelatin monstrosities with him? Julie is practically his other half so to lose her for months on end must be very difficult for him! He knows that she can't help it and he doesn't blame her but that hardly makes it any easier. All he can really do now is just push that sadness down, wish her goodnight, and wait for her to return.
Under this interpretation, certain lyrics in BaBaG take on a different meaning to me. Lines like "I know it's for the best, I can't keep you," or "I'll be the first to tell you, you just can't stay," could imply an oncoming rift between the two of them. The recent updates have implied that Frank and Julie were written to be a couple and were perceived as such in-universe. We don't yet know how the two of them felt about that but we do know that they were very close to the point of doing basically everything together! But now Frank is falling in love with someone else, someone who may very well come to eclipse Julie in terms of importance to him. No matter how much he loves her, no matter how much they might want to stay together, there are some things you just can't fight and this play-relationship they have can't last forever...
But that's just my interpretation!
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aibloomie · 1 year
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THINGS THEY DO WHEN THEY LOVE YOU
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✧ featuring — venti, diluc, kaeya, albedo, childe, zhongli, xiao, kazuha, thoma, itto, and gorou x gn!reader
I desperately wanted to add sumeru characters to this but </3 I simply do not know enough about them so maybe in the future. this was my first time writing for some characters so I hope they aren't too occ. it's 1 am i will now be going to sleep 😭 or trying
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venti lulls you to sleep with his melodious words every chance he gets. he is not fond of routines, but this act is one that he wishes to never avoid. he smiles when he catches wind of your drowsy self, and takes it as his cue to guide you to bed. his voice is quiet so as to not alarm you, so quiet that only you would be able to hear it even if the room were rowdy and full of people. it is a gesture reserved only for you, as his voice is usually loud when he is with other people. when you are away and unable to see him, memories of his honey dripping tunes are your exit ticket into a sweet and peaceful slumber with visions of your one and only lover.
diluc does not hide his growing and everlasting attachment to you. he has a tendency to discard items that he no longer needs or uses, but he is unable to fall into that habit when it comes to you. instead, every gift you give him is displayed on his shelves, or some place in his residence that is visible. he cleans the shelves and gifts every day so that his valuable possessions are not tainted with dust. he even places some of them in the bar (behind glass or in a place none of his customers would dare to touch) and his heart flutters every time he glances at the gifts. his regular customers are used to him zoning out with a sweet smile on his face whenever he does so. you are his soft spot, and he makes it very known to you and the entire town without even meaning to be so obvious about it. he would gladly keep and store everything you give him  </3
kaeya finds himself reaching out to you whenever you turn your back on him. before you, he was in a pit of loneliness and you pulled him out of it. because of that, his main comfort is spending quality time with you. so whenever you try rolling out of bed you are met with kaeya's longing gaze, and an arm that extends in an effort to pull you back in—yet he never actually touches you unless you willingly come back to him. and when you do, his arms will wrap around you and he'll place gentles kisses down your neck, and he manages to whisper against your skin, "can you stay for a while longer, love?"
albedo would drop all his work and cast aside his progress on any research for you. the minute you express you crave his touch or attention, he will immediately grant it to you, all of his thoughts would turn to you and you alone. he once believed that relationships were too demanding, but is constantly proved wrong when he's with you because he's filled with so much happiness when offered the chance to give you his love and attend to your every need. 
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childe tells his entire family about you through letters before they even meet you in person. so the first time you come to his house, his siblings are all over you and they already know your name. childe goes beet red and bashfully pulls his siblings off of you before introducing all of them. and his mom !! she made an entire grand meal for you with all your favorite food (that childe mentioned to her a long time ago) because her son is head over heels for you and she wants to treat you right.
zhongli tries his best to spoil you, despite not being the most financially responsible. he wants you to have the best there is, and wants you to get a taste of the finest products in liyue. he likes setting up beautiful dates, in which your favorite flowers decorate the table. he has your favorite floral scent as an essence so all of your senses are satisfied. your favorite cuisine will always be set on the table, along with wine (or a non-alcoholic drink if you prefer) so the two of you can talk the moonlit night away.
xiao cannot help but indulge himself when it comes to his curiosities with you. a relationship with him takes patience, he needs time to sort his feelings out and be okay with the urges he has when it comes to you. it'll take him a while to be comfortable with rubbing his thumb against your hand when his fingers are interlaced with yours. but through such actions, he is showing you that he treasures you. he gets flustered when he pulls you closer to him as the two of you kiss, because his body acts before his mind and he cannot fathom that he has the ability to desire such a thing. 
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kazuha has notebooks after notebooks filled with poems and portions of writings about his longing for you. most are sweet and loving, describing you as if you were more fascinating and eye-catching than the unknowns of the ocean and space combined. he thinks of you as the calming sounds of leaves blowing through the air after a storm, one that puts his soul at home. he quite simply cannot drive you away from consuming his each and every thought, nor does he want to. he is a bit bashful when you find the poems, watching as your eyes oh so carefully read each word he has written about you. his cheeks are rosy and he is unable to stutter even a sentence out because those notebooks reflect all of his heartfelt feelings for you, some of which he is not brave enough to voice aloud.
thoma finds himself copying your mannerisms and phrases without even intending to. he's around you so often that he cannot help but start humming the same songs you always do, or even laugh the same way as you. he'll pick up on some of your catchphrases and become flustered at the realization. he carries a part of you no matter where he is <3
itto has no limit when it comes to verbally expressing his adoration for you. his sentences are filled with compliments for you, and they revolve around each and every aspect of you; your clothes, personality, appearance, humor, hobbies, interests, habits, and the list goes on and on. he doesn't allow any insecurities to run free in your mind, because he is constantly reminding you of how amazing you are. he enjoys competitions, but admits that you are the only person who could beat him at anything <3
gorou cannot contain his feelings around you, no matter how hard he tries to. you are his lover, yet he seems to have never left the crushing phase. his cheeks still get adorned with a lovely shade of red whenever you inch closer to him and kiss him. he is left speechless whenever you make eye contact with him, even more when you tease him about being so easy to fluster. he still tries to look his best for you, and gets a little embarrassed when you see his messy bed hair. and of course, his wagging tail whenever he so much as thinks about you is a dead give away on how infatuated he is with you.
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magnetic-rose · 10 months
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i see “beelzebub and gabriel only cared about each other and that’s why they ran away” and i think that’s valid but also, beelzebub and gabriel had never been cared FOR in their 6000 year existence and i think that counts for a lot. they were created to do god’s will, and then were put into these leadership roles where they spent the next 6000 years waiting to command a war. they didn’t make friends (which makes sense when everyone around you is a work subordinate), they didn’t have families, they didn’t have people to check up on them, want to hang out with them, spend time with them, gift them things, comfort them etc. they existed solely for the cause.
so of course they ran away together. 6000 years of loneliness and they didn’t even realize that’s what it was until they met each other. “no one has ever given me anything before” gabriel says and it’s the most emotional and vulnerable we’ve ever seen him. beelzebub is hard and mean and cruel to everyone else because that’s been their eternal role, but with gabriel they’re soft, giving, caring.
so is it about selfishness? partly, yeah. gabriel and beelzebub did not really live lives that gave them the opportunity to care for anything but themselves and god’s/satan’s will. so any being who was raised that way and then stagnated for 6000 years in that mindset would naturally be selfish. but their love for each other? they fell for each other because they could be selfless around each other. gabriel made a jukebox play beelzebub’s favorite song without expecting anything in return. beelzebub gave gabriel the fly because they wanted to, not because they needed to. their meetings weren’t beneficial to them. it was literally to be in each other’s company.
i mean, gabriel was willing to fall to be with beelzebub and beelzebub was willing to give up being duke of hell if it meant gabriel was safe and with them. that’s very selfless of both of them.
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theminecraftbee · 5 months
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task: answer the following question. do you believe in curses? respond as completely with relevant information as possible.
Grian: Well, that's a lie. This isn't a task. I know it's not a task, I set the things up! Not sure why we're getting a question as pointless as this one, but sure, mysterious scroll, I'll answer. There's no such thing as curses, unless you're Timmy, in which case it's funny, yeah? Besides, I didn't actually kill Etho. Even if that did count, self-fulfilling prophecies aren't the same thing as curses, and I know which one I fall under.
Joel: Do I believe in bloody curses what kind of question is that? Do I really get hearts just for answering this? This feels like a prank or something... well, whatever. There are no such thing as curses, except the Boogeyman curse, which I sort of had today, but it wasn't actually the same at all. A lot of the bloodlust, sure, but a lot more... Etho had to be the one to do it, huh? And it's not the same. Not comforting. That's a stupid thing to say actually. Take it out of wherever you're putting this. Cut it out of the recording. Comforting. Please. As if it were ever... Yeah, I'm done actually. Don't have a good answer. Go away.
Scott: What, other than Jimmy? Bless that man, he may not have died first, but he sure tried his best. Sure, I'll believe Jimmy is cursed. I mean, mostly he's just kind of stupid. Lovingly so. I mean, despite him being stupid, I put up with him, right? That seems like a complete answer to this question. Jimmy's an omen but we put up with him anyway. That's all.
Mumbo: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
Pearl: Oh, I mean, I'm probably cursed. That's what everyone liked to say at one point. I think... I mean, I think this time I have good friends, which is nice. They don't think I'm cursed. And it's not like I--I mean, it's surprisingly fun, acting cursed! And I am just acting. Acting scary, blowing up dance floors, all of that. And I don't really have to this time, so... Maybe I'm not cursed? And since it's acting, it's not real? This is a weird question.
Etho: Oh, man, that's a question. Um, do I have to answer? Because I feel like if I say no, that's really just asking for it, but if I say yes, I have to explain myself. Uh, I think I'm abstaining, unless the zombie thing from earlier counts. That was scary and I hated it. Curses are scary and I hate them in general, but apparently I'm good at them, if you ask everyone else. Um, it's not the only thing I find scary that apparently I'm good at.
Scar: Why, of course I believe in curses! Look at poor, poor... Timbert? Timmy? Jim? Gosh, sorry, I'm very tired right now. That's more proof of curses, by the way! That I'm tired. I've been tired straight since the desert, let me tell you what. And that, my friends, is a curse like no other. What a terrible beast, loneliness is. Wish me luck breaking it, because it's not happening this season!
Cleo: Oh, you mean the thing people like to blame instead of their own actions? Nah. My soulbond was kind of a curse, I guess, but even that's at least half just... bad people. Bad relationships. Good ones, too. We're all just doing what you can, you know? No script, no curses, no characters, just... Oh, I hope everything turns out tomorrow. Sorry, that's unrelated. It's just nicer to hope than to preemptively blame things on curses that don't exist.
Impulse: Well, I mean, I didn't until you just asked me that, but now I feel like I should. Wouldn't that be nice? Being cursed instead of just sort of unlovable? Sorry, no, that's mean to Gem. I shouldn't say that about Gem, she's been good this season. Super, super cursed, mind you, in the like, game mechanic sense? But she's been good, no backstabbing or inability to get love involved. Um, and I guess that's not fair to Bdubs, kind of, except it also totally is and I haven't forgiven him. So I guess if they ask I said I believed in curses, and that's why my life keeps circling clocks? Don't put any of that other stuff down, I'm trying to work on that.
Lizzie: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
Gem: I was just cursed for a task, but that probably isn't what you're asking about, right? I'm new, so I don't know! A task is a concrete thing to believe in, like bloodshed or victory or fun and games. You don't have to believe in those to know they're real, either! They just are, whether you like it or not. I understand that much!
Tango: Gah, don't talk to me about... Deep breaths. Look, I don't care if it's a curse, or if it's just me being really bad, or what, I'm not going out pointlessly this time. Jimmy managed not to die first, I can manage to not go out to a stray arrow or my own bomb or a misstep this time, right? Is that so much to ask?
Skizz: Huh? Curses? I mean, I don't think so, and to be totally honest I think it's kind of mean the way people sometimes rag on people about them. Everyone's got so many good things about them! Why do people like to focus on the unfortunate luck, huh?
Bdubs: Hah! Curses! Let me tell you about curses. When I see curses, I eat them for breakfast. I don't got curses, I've got better things to do! I've got my buddies with the Mounders, and I've got-well, I'd say keeping Etho safe, but he's being weird at me again this season. Not that it matters. It never matters. Etho and I, we're... The point is, that doesn't matter anyway, because I have the Mounders, and they're the ones who matter here. And because I'm a strong, independent Bdubs, who doesn't need anyone but my bow and my perfect, flawless fighting prowess! Sorry, what was the question? I've been thinking so much lately that it's just sort of made everything else pop out of my head, so it's hard to keep track. I'm sure I answered it flawlessly, though.
Martyn: Of course there are curses. That's half the fun for you lot, isn't it? Putting your little curses on us and watching us rail against them. Bet you think it's real cute to ask us what we think of the things, too. "Oh, what do you think of curses," like we have any control over them. Please. If I had any control over curses, Jimmy--or, well, no, I guess that one was technically broken, wasn't it? Sure doesn't feel like it. Point is, curses are bad, and they're definitely real, and I hate you for them, got it?
BigB: Look, man, if you're trying to get me to write my character out for you, just say so! I won't tell anyone. We can come up with a hole thing about holes and red tasks and the Backrooms together! It'll be fun! After all, you probably don't know what kind of curse to say I have, right? Haha, just kidding. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Luckily, neither does anyone else, so I think that evens out between the lot of us.
Jimmy: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
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sh1-n0bu · 4 months
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what punishment do you think suits for blade bcus he won't come home to me?
♡︎ 𝙥𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 ♡︎
characters: sub!blade x gn!dom!reader
warnings: slapping, edging, squirting, mentions of handjob, bondage, degrading, dacryphilia, begging, mentions of cock slapping, masochist bladie, forced self praise and praise, slight fluff and angst if you squint, reader’s a bit mean but it’s deserved😤 also ig this is a bit of a self aware AU as well???? yeah, ig u guys could read it as a self aware AU if ur into it
notes: sorry for replying too fast anon. my period is making me horknee😔 this is more like a headcannon of what i think would be a perfect punishment for blade
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DEGRADING
listen listen listen, i know this may sound a bit weird but blade hates being degraded when with you. there’s a reason why he gives off wet, pathetic, soggy cat that’s abandoned at the side of the street vibes and because of that, blade loves to be praised instead. especially since you're his lover, his darling, his sweetheart, his one and only and the only one he would do absolutely anything and everything for without even thinking. because of that, blade wants to be praised. he wants to be a good boy for you, he wants to be your sweet baby, not your dirty slut. he thinks you’re being so mean to him :((
SLAPPING
now this can be taken in many concepts. he could be begging on his knees in front of you, hands clinging to the fabrics of your clothes as hazy, teary red eyes stare at you. chewed on lips spurring out apologies after apologies like a broken record. you could slap him across the face to make him shut up, its fine since blade can handle it. besides he’s a bit of a masochist as well so he would definitely let out a whimper and rub his thighs together to get some relief on his poor hardened cock
but if it's in other places such as slapping his ass as a form of punishment, slapping his thighs until the skin is all red and sensitive or even his hard cock leaking pre all over his stomach — either way, blade would be turned into a brainless sweetheart in no time. tears falling from his eyes as he begs for you to just touch him!! touch him properly please? he’s a good boy. he’ll be a good boy, he even promises!
EDGING
blade loves being overstimulated. its one of his favorite kinks. whether it be cumming over and over and over by your hand stroking his angry cock, fingering his ass and creating filthy squelching sounds or into your mouth or hell, even riding your thighs! he loves to be close to you, after years of loneliness and isolation, blade craves intimacy. he craves that close contact, to feel the warmth of your bare skin touching his own. even better when he’s crying and sobbing from cumming into your hand for the nth time that night, blabbering drunken shit as he squirts again. but when its taken away???? when he’s so close to reaching his high and stumbling over the edge, when his hard cock is ready to paint your hands with his sticky liquid and you take it away from him????? getting your hand off of his cock and leaving him aching and whining, desperately chasing after your hand with sobbing pleas? blade thinks you’re being real mean to him :((( please just let him cum, let him cum even on the sheets if you want! he won’t soil your hand, he just wants to cum so bad and his poor cock hurts so much :((
BONDAGE
this one is almost all of the time paired with the edging one. as i've said before, blade craves intimacy, he loves being close to you physically. he loves you so fucking much, way too much to the point it hurts to even be away from you even for a little bit. there's a reason why blade chose to be close to you, a reason why he decided to open up his heart to someone else again to give another shot at life and because of that he loves you and trust you so much. you're literally the reason he realized perhaps living wouldn't be so bad after all because he has you by his side, he can go another day, another month, another year, another life-time if it means he would get to spend every waking and even sleeping moment beside you. blade loves to be physically close to you so when you take it away from him, when you tie his hands behind his back or even tie his wrists up to the bedframe, he's doing everything to break those stupid cuffs or ropes. he wants to feel you!! it doesn't even have to be in the sexual way, it can just be in a literal way. holding hands, his palm flat against your back, feeling your skin, being reminded of your warmth. but if you take it away, he's a mess. but don't worry everything is consensual of courses, and you always make sure to take care of him and the bruises afterwards. one of the most effective ways to punish him, me thinks
honorary mention: FORCED SELF PRAISE
it might come of as a bit off or out of place since i did mention that one of the suited punishments for blade would be degrading and praise is the absolute opposite for that but hEAR ME OUT!!!! blade is self conscious of his body. and i meant his scars specifically. he finds them hideous, like how can someone like you could ever find him pretty or gorgeous or all those words you praise him with? he finds it ridiculous. his body is nothing but just a meaningless weapon by now, covered with scars and phantom pains that don't go away and yet you find it so beautiful. you even make sure to make him understand that he is indeed beautiful as you place kisses on each and every last one of the scars that he bears
now this!!!! is where the forced self praise comes in. it doesn't even have to be sexual or as a form of punishment. you could just be doing your everyday ritual of praising the ever loving shit out of him with blade sitting all pretty with a cute red dusting his cheeks. he would always weakly try to refuse your praises, saying that he wasn't the most handsome man in the galaxy and that was why he was wanted and instead always offering logical answers. just accept the damn praise blade >:(((( this is where it comes in. you can softly coax him to say self assuring things. it can start out small like "i did a good job on the mission the other day", "i make a delicious pancake this morning", "i always how to make hot chocolate to cheer up my beloved" and it can range to the things that he insistently denies. make him say that he's pretty, that he's gorgeous, that his hair is long and elegant, that he's an amazing lover, how he was wanted across all galaxies because he was just so charming and dashing and amazi - okay, now his brain is way too fried with the compliments and in his desperation, he's shutting you up with a kiss. he's so adorable :333
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screamingwailing · 8 months
Text
Jealous/Aggressive!König x Reader Fic
CW: possessive!König, afab reader, oral (giving and receiving), aggressive unprotected sex, p in v action
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König is usually so kind and patient with you, so careful not to scare you or make you feel unsafe with his massive frame and dominating presence. He’s aware of how intimidating he can be, he normally strives for it, lives off the feeling of instilling fear. It’s how he’s so good at his job.
But…he isn't like that with you, never with you.
When he’s with you, Colonel König fades away, he just becomes yours. He can melt away from the blood, the death, the carnage. You’re his sanctuary. 
So when he comes back after a long mission and he sees you still up, playing a game with one of those fucking friends of yours - friends that he can hear are men - he snaps and loses it.
With your headphones on you don’t even hear him open the door, don’t see him stalk into the room, jealousy and spite in his eyes.
All he wanted when he came home was to unwind into you, to turn into the person he only ever was and could be with you, and some random nobody was in the way of that. He couldn’t have that. 
Without so much as a sound, he quickly turns you around in your chair, ripping your headset off, and muffling your frightened sounds with his massive hand. For the first time, you looked at him with fear. Why did he love it so?
Standing over you, hand covering your mouth and most of your face, gripping your head with a strength and force not familiar to you, you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. Gone is the man you fell in love with, in front of you was a monster no different from any other man on the battlefield. 
He glares down at you with a fiery vengeance. “I’m home meine Kleines.” 
Your head desperately moves, trying to escape his grasp, König gently tuts at you. 
“Ah-ah, meine Liebe. What do you think you are doing? Did you not miss me?” His voice practically came out in a hiss, sneer under his mask.
You look up at him, a pleading look in your tear-filled gaze. You did, you missed him more than anything. Why else would you stay up all night playing games with people you barely cared to remember the names of? Why else would you have a constant stream of distractions? The loneliness in absence of your king was all-consuming. But this wasn’t him, surely. Your König would never hurt you, never scare you like this.
He brings his other hand up to his masked face, signaling you to be quiet. You nod as much as he allows. Satisfied by your obedience, he slowly shifts the hand covering your mouth to instead firmly grab your chin and cheeks, his thumb and forefinger wrapping around you with a dull pain.
 “Doll, why is it that when your king came home to you, you weren’t waiting in bed? Did my absence mean nothing to you? Were you off trying to find someone new?” At this, the grip around you tightens, causing you to wince, tears falling down his fingers.
Seeing you wince, König falters for just a moment, his grip loosening just enough to allow you to speak. 
“N-no! I-…I would never! Please, why are you being like this, what did I do wrong?” 
Wrong answer. As if possessed, König’s eyes darken and grow cold once more. “Lügen! You lie, little mouse.”
He looms over you, rage and turmoil in his gaze. Desperate to get through to him, your voice becomes shrill with desperation. “I’m not lying, I promise! Please, you’re hurting me, let go!” 
König considers this for a moment, then cocks his head to the side, his eyes almost glowing red from the light of your computer. “Nein, I will not let go of you again. It seems I need to remind you who you belong to.” 
You gulp, your fear tingling with arousal. Regardless of his fearsome state, you can’t help but feel your body react to his words, your legs squirming together. König’s eyes flick towards the movement, not missing your reaction. 
Voice filled with an almost childlike mirth, he chuckles at this. “Ah, it seems your body remembers, even if its treacherous owner strays.”
He leans towards your head, breathing your scent in deeply. “I have missed you, so, meine Liebe. If only you had stayed good for me…if only I were enough for you.” 
Your eyes meet his, his mask still covering a majority of his expression. You don’t understand, he was his normal affectionate self when he had left for his most recent mission. You can feel your pulse rapidly beating in your throat, but still, you can’t help but notice the pain in his eyes. And even more obvious than this, the protruding bulge in his tactical pants. You’re afraid…you’re afraid but…it’s still König. You’d trust him with your life. You sharply inhale through your nose, closing your eyes momentarily, then exhaling and meeting his gaze once more. You’re no longer afraid. 
His massive hand is still gripping your face tightly, but he notices the change in your demeanor and steps back in confusion. You gently reach out, as if scared to frighten him. Your much smaller hand wraps around his wrist, pulling his hand back up to your throat. 
“I missed you too, König. More than you could ever know. You know you’re the only one for me. You’re my everything.” Your eyes look up at him with pure adoration, bordering on obsession. 
König looks at you, conflicted, before his eyes harden once more. He steps forwards, his hand tightening around your throat. “Prove it to me. Prove to me that I am the only one for you.” 
He lets go of your throat, instead guiding your head towards his straining bulge. Without wasting a moment, you lunge forward, as if starved. In a way, you were; it had been so long since your king had been home with you. You make sure to lock eyes with him as your teeth close around his zipper, pulling it down agonizingly slow. He groans in anticipation, his fingers sliding through your hair. He impatiently tugs, urging you on. Wanting to please, you kiss him through his boxers, suckling and gently biting along his shaft through the fabric. 
“Enough teasing, Liebe. I want your mouth around me” He grits out, his pupils blown out in arousal. 
Your heart rate increases again, this time in anticipation, as you tug his clothing down. His cock bounces up against his stomach and you almost moan at the sight. Without wasting any time, you engulf his tip between your lips, making sure to wrap your tongue around at the same time. He hisses in surprise, his cock already starting to leak in your mouth. You suck harder on his tip, savoring the taste of him. You lock eyes as you take him deeper, tears already forming from the stretch in your mouth. His head falls back for a moment, lost in pleasure, before gripping your hair tighter. 
“Deeper” he growls out. It’s not a request, it’s an order, and you’re more than happy to comply. 
Taking him deeper, you gag around him. He’s so fucking big, you can barely continue. You wrap your hands around his thick shaft, making sure to pump whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. Your drool drips down him, mixing with his precum. You moan around him, bobbing your head faster, trying to take him as deep as you can.
“Scheiße, that’s it. Such a good little whore for me. God, have I missed this mouth.” 
König looks down on you, shoving your head down further as his eyes roll back in pleasure. You gag around him, tears streaming down your face. You aren’t used to him manhandling you like this, but you can’t deny what it does to you. You feel the heat between your legs, the growing wet spot in your underwear only getting worse with each passing moment. Something about the utter possession and loss of control makes you crazy, your mouth bobbing faster, drool dripping all the way down to König’s heavy balls. 
Looking up at him with your tear streaked cheeks and red eyes, König can’t help but groan at the sight, his balls tightening. He can feel himself getting closer and closer to his release, especially since it’s been so long since he last felt you. 
König’s grip on your hair grows painful as he lets out a low moan. “Kleines, take it for me. I’m going to cum down your throat. You’ll be such a good whore and swallow it all for me, ja?” 
You hum your approval around him, groaning in anticipation. The vibration sends him over the edge and you feel hot liquid spurt down your throat. As promised, you do your best to swallow every drop, your mind hazing with the taste and overwhelming sensation of König all around you. Despite your best efforts, you begin to choke, his cum seemingly never ending. He pulls your head back, finishing his climax on your face. You look up at him with a look of utter bliss, eyes clouded in lust, cum dripping down your face and down your chin. 
“My god, look at you, Schatz. So perfect for me, such a good little cumslut. Gutes Mädchen.” König’s voice is gravelly from the pleasure, praise spilling from his lips like a prayer. 
His strong arms lift you up as he carries you to your bedroom. Completely cumdrunk, you don’t even notice until you feel him throw you onto the bed. Like a predator stalking his prey, König’s massive frame draws closer, the bed creaking under his weight. He grips your thighs strong enough to bruise as he spreads them. He lifts his mask up just enough to show his chiseled jaw and scarred lips, his long tongue tracing his near fang-like canines as he takes in the delicious sight of you before him. 
“Meine Kleine, you did so well for me. Let me reward you” König practically purrs out, before he lifts your legs upwards as he dives towards your heat. 
Still cumdrunk, you moan at the sudden pleasure, your mind further clouding with König’s skilled tongue at work. You feel him expertly work you, his tongue pushing deep within you as he thumbs your clit. He groans against you and you can feel his grin against your cunt. His nose presses against your clit as he pushes his tongue in deeper, adding a finger to further your pleasure. You feel his finger push up against the spot that makes you see stars as his tongue slips out of you and over your sensitive clit. You scream out, unable to stop your cries. This only spurs him on more, König positively ravenous for you, drinking in every noise you make. He noisily laps around your clit, sensing your oversensitivity, as he adds a second thick finger. You whine at the stretch, wanting more while also adjusting to the intrusion. 
“P-please, König! I need you, please, please-” you beg for him, watching his breath quicken in response. 
König pulls away from your dripping pussy to shush you,“Shh, patience, Schatz. All in due time.” 
You whine in response, attempting to buck your hips against his face. He holds your legs tighter, squeezing them and pulling them more firmly while pushing you against the bed. You can’t help but twitch in response, loving how easily he can maneuver you. One hand is enough to hold you down while the other brutally fucks into your heat, relentlessly thrusting his fingers in and out of you, palm slapping against your clit as he laps around your folds. You can feel your climax building, keening and squirming in his grasp. A silent scream escapes your lips as you feel König wrap his mouth around your sensitive nub, sucking your clit while still working your soaking cunt. 
“There it is, Schatz, let go for your King. Show me that you belong to me, that you will only cum for me.” 
Your release rips through you violently, your vision going white as your entire body lifts and shakes, trembling through the powerful orgasm. König continues to roughly finger you through it, torturing you with his continuous ministrations. He smirks down at you as you attempt to squirm away. 
“Now, now, Liebe. You didn’t think I would be satisfied with just that, did you? I know you can cum again for me.” 
König latches his mouth around you once again, his fingers rhythmically abusing your sensitive insides, pumping them against your spot over and over. You scream as another orgasm is ripped from you, tears once again streaming down your face. Panting from the overexertion, your legs quake and twitch. 
“Gutes Mädchen, such a good slut for me” König looks at you smugly, pride and confidence clearly showing in his eyes. 
Still between your legs, you feel something hot against your entrance. König continues to grip your legs tightly, looking at you with a new glint in his eyes: a look of predation, of total need and lust. You shudder, another wave of arousal hitting your already exhausted body. 
“Are you ready, meine Liebe?” König looms over you, a toothy grin set on his face as he pushes inside you. 
You can’t help but roll your eyes back as you’re entirely filled, the stretch of König’s fingers nothing in comparison to his monstrous cock. Long and girthy, he fills you like no one else, reminding you with each thrust just who you belong to. As he pounds into you, your throat becomes raw with broken sobs and moans. He fucks you like an animal, all need and desire, carnal nearly to the point of pain. König folds you in half with his massive frame, tantalizing moans and grunts coming from above you as he fucks you faster. 
You can tell he’s about to cum, to completely fill you inside and mark you as his. As his orgasm approaches his thrusts become erratic and impatient, sounds of skin slapping against skin and dueted moans filling the otherwise quiet bedroom. You’re about to cum for a third time, this time with him. 
As König’s orgasm tears through him he lunges his mouth forward, attacking your throat with his sharp canines. Practically growling around your throat, he marks you both inside and out, painting your insides with his cum while he draws blood on your throat. 
He collapses on top of you for a moment before slowly rising and looking at your fucked-out expression. As if the spell on him finally dissipated, König calms for the first time since his arrival. He gently strokes your sweaty hair from your face, kissing your forehead. He collapses back against your chest, clinging to your form tightly. “I..I’m sorry, meine Liebe. When I was in the field you were all I thought of. Every day, I only thought of returning to you. To come home to you speaking to another, I couldn’t bear it.” 
You sigh softly before looking at him with a soft smile before saying the words you’ve been practicing in secret, “Du bist mein ein und alles, König”.  
His eyes widen at this, then soften and close once more, finally content and at peace with his love. No more words need to be exchanged, you both understand what you mean to one another. Finally, you could rest with your König. 
hello meowdy! this is my first fic, pls b kind ;;
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