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#now i only hope to be able to save my own soul…
cecropiacrown · 3 days
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for the kiss prompt meme! fengqing and 49? 👀
I took this one a bit literally, hope you don't mind. Thanks for the ask! :) #49 a kiss out of necessity
“What are you saying?”
“Are you deaf, or just stupid?” Mu Qing crosses his arms, jutting that regal chin of his out and up in an arrogant display of self-righteousness.
Feng Xin would say the other martial god is looking down his nose at him, but Mu Qing’s eyes are still fucking closed. He seethes, unobserved, and clenches his fists so hard he’s surprised his gloves are still intact.
“A kiss?” Feng Xin tries to clarify, instead of bashing his head into the nearest wall as he has been so wishfully imagining.
“A man with a history like yours, I assumed you’d know what that meant.” Feng Xin knows Mu Qing would roll his eyes right now if he was able to—but he can’t—he just keeps talking. 
“Yes, General. A kiss. A press of the lips. I don’t know.” Mu Qing waves his hand in the air dismissively, his head still held high, but his eyes still as magically closed as when Feng Xin first arrived at his chambers.
“I am not the one who crafted the damned curse. So, yes, a kiss. Or my eyes will stay this way.” 
There is an underlying sense of unease to Mu Qing’s tone that Feng Xin is sure only he can pick up on, purely from the fact the two of them have known each other for 800 years. 
“And before you ask—yes, I have tried to hold them open. And, yes, I still am unable to see.”
Feng Xin sighs and racks his brain for any other possible solution, but Mu Qing is growing more impatient by the second, if the tapping of his perfectly polished boot is any indication. Feng Xin holds back the groan of frustration that sits so readily at the back of his throat, and tries to bide some more time.
“Is… well, I mean. Is there no one else who could—”
This was, evidently, the wrong thing to say.
Mu Qing’s face is alight with unbridled fury as he whips his whole body in Feng Xin’s direction. His arms shoot down to his sides, and Feng Xin can tell he instinctively reaches for his zhanmadao even though the saber lays discarded on a nearby low table.
“What?” he spits, venomous and clearly defensive. He’s quite agitated now and throws his arms up in the air as he speaks, a habit he has had since his time as a mortal. His face twists and contorts, save for his eyes, which stay almost peacefully closed as he rants, “Is it such a cruel fate to kiss the austere and ruthless General Xuan Zhen that you’d sooner pawn off the task to some other poor, unfortunate—”
“Stop.”
“—soul? What—is it so beneath the mighty General Nan Yang that he’d rather—”
Feng Xin crosses the room in an instant and grips Mu Qing by his shoulders before he can stop himself. He has half a mind to shake him, as if that could knock any sense into him, but he knows better.
“Enough.”
Mu Qing draws in a quick breath through his nose, his face pinched unpleasantly as he stoically faces forward.
“Unhand me.” 
Mu Qing’s voice is low, like a threat, but it’s tinged with something else that Feng Xin can’t quite place. Something delicate.
“Fine,” he says, and pushes Mu Qing back a little out of habit before he removes his hands completely. 
“But stop speaking such nonsense.” Feng Xin straightens his own robes and clears his throat. “Of course I will help you. You’d be a fool to think I’d allow you to remain this way and leave me to watch over the South on my own.”
Mu Qing sets his jaw, his mouth twisting into a snarl, but he says nothing. His arms are crossed over his chest again and his hands… his hands are shaking.
“Are you nervous?” Feng Xin asks before he has the sense not to.
“No,” Mu Qing snaps, like the notion itself is preposterous.
But Feng Xin sees the way Mu Qing presses the tips of his middle finger and his thumb together, drawing small circles, and he knows he’s caught him. Now that’s an anxious tick he hasn’t seen the other god display in centuries.
“Then why are you trembling, General?”
“I’m not.” Mu Qing says this through gritted teeth, as if this helps his case.
“Ah, but you are.” Feng Xin reaches forward now and, with a featherlight touch, he cradles Mu Qing’s face in his palm. The other god noticeably stiffens, but that near-imperceptible tremor in his hands is still there. Whether because he is stubborn or because his lack of sight limits his range of movement, he does not pull away.
“Remember now, it’s your eyes that are closed. Mine have been open the whole time.”
Mu Qing swallows audibly and Feng Xin tracks the movement down his pale throat until it’s hidden by the top of his collar.
“Mu Qing,” he says quietly and Mu Qing’s mask of indifference instantly crumbles. With where Feng Xin’s hand rests along Mu Qing’s jaw, he’s in prime position to feel the spike he just caused in the other god’s pulse.
“Be still. I’m going to kiss you now.”
Mu Qing’s breath goes ragged and Feng Xin feels the jaw under his palm go taut.
“It’s okay,” Feng Xin breathes, and guides his face slowly closer to his rival’s. He trails his hand down Mu Qing’s jaw to rest at his neck, gently thumbing at the soft skin of his earlobe. 
He gives Mu Qing ample time to pull away, to decide he doesn’t want Feng Xin to take his first kiss after all, but Mu Qing surprises him. It seems Feng Xin’s gentle caress has Mu Qing softening, just a little, because there’s something so bashfully pliant about the expression he’s making. Feng Xin can hardly take his eyes off of him. And even though he closes his eyes, he swears that when their lips do finally touch, that Mu Qing leaned forward to meet him there.
The kiss is oh so tender; quiet in a way the two of them never are. It’s brief too, lasting only a few moments, but when they part, there’s a lingering warmth that radiates through them both.
Feng Xin sees the moment Mu Qing opens his eyes and looks at him—sees him—and he realizes his hand is still on Mu Qing’s neck. He lets his eyes rove over the thin jaw, those soft lips, before he pulls back completely and straightens out his sleeves.
“Cured?” Feng Xin asks, even though he knows the answer.
“Cured,” Mu Qing replies quietly.
Feng Xin isn’t sure he’s ever heard Mu Qing speak in such a hushed tone and he finds himself wanting to hear it again.
“I suppose I’ll be on my way then. Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“Right. Good of you to know your place."
As Feng Xin reaches the door, his hand poised to open it, he turns to speak over his shoulder, finding he desperately needs to know the answer to this question.
“Why ask me?”
“Why would I ask anyone else?”
Feng Xin smiles and slips silently out into the corridor.
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laligraves · 6 days
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a wedding in june
cult leader!joel miller x virgin fem!reader
[18+] | wc: ~3.2k summary: You run from Joel on your wedding day. masterlist | AO3
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warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), some proofreading, post-outbreak, commune/cult vibes, arranged marriage, mentions of infected/gore/violence, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, some face slapping, loss of virginity (and some pain associated to that but only a few sentences), outdoors sex, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: i promise i have other ideas rattling in my brain besides dubious consent 😭 i have a whole wip chart with tons of ideas that i hope i can write
You run faster at the sound of shouts behind you. Sweat drips down your temples and fear makes your heart beat erratically, but you don’t dare stop. 
The outer gates are only a few more hundred feet away. All you need to do is get past the trees and you’ll be able to escape. You don’t have time to think about how this will be your first time venturing outside of the commune. 
Everything you were taught about the outside, about the orphaned souls and monsters that lurk, none of that matters. Not when you’re more terrified at what your future will bring.
Joel Miller. The man who in just a few months, cleared away the hundreds of infected in the nearby valley. Joel, who in the commune’s monthly hunting trips, manages to find everything from venison to medication. 
The times you’ve been close enough to Joel, to feel the heat emanating off his body, you can almost taste the violence that simmers beneath his skin. Instead of it scaring you, like it would any sane person, it excites you. 
The longing in his gaze whenever he looks at you makes you dizzy. There’s a pulse of heat between your thighs each and every time, one that will only go away after you ride your pillow until exhaustion. Whenever you face him again, after you’ve dreamed of him taking you, you wonder if he knows what you do in the privacy of your room. 
There’s no denying that he’s saved this commune from the brink of starvation. Of course everyone, including you, is grateful for the kindness of a stranger. But in the months he’s been here, their gratitude has turned into pure devotion. 
Your parents practically pushed you into his arms the moment Joel asked about you. Normally quite level headed, your parents have begun to treat Joel like a God. You thought Joel would find their insistence of marriage off putting, that he would be an honorable man and let you choose your own path in this place.  
You were wrong. 
Your parents saw it as an honor that out of all the women in the commune, Joel chose you. The books and pretty dresses he finds on his trips are only a sign of how devoted a husband he will be, at least that’s what your mother tried to tell you.  
And the times you tried to speak to Joel and get him to rethink this marriage? Don’t worry about it, pretty girl, was all he would say before he’d send you off. 
You can imagine him in your bed and fantasize about him in your dreams, but to be his wife? Especially now that he’s been chosen to lead the commune—you want nothing to do with that. 
A denser path to your right has you changing directions, wishing to throw them off your trail. You can still make it if you run through here. 
Except it’s too late. Strong arms grab and push you into the lush grass. 
“No,” you scream, “let me go!” 
“What’s wrong with you,” Joel snaps, “don’t you know what’s out there?” 
“I don’t care,” you scream out childishly, “I’d rather be out there than be with you!” 
He climbs on top of you, grabbing your wrists in one hand and pressing them above your head into the grass. He leans on your thighs to keep you still and grabs your chin with the other hand. 
“Listen to me,” he insists, “you don’t know what you’re sayin’. You know nothin’ of what life is like outside these walls.” 
He digs his fingers into your cheeks and shakes your head slightly since you refuse to look at him. 
“Joel, did you find her?” your father calls out from a distance. 
“Yeah, I got ‘er.” 
“Great, let’s go back and finish the celebration–” 
“No,” Joel calls out. 
“Joel–” 
“Leave,” Joel interrupts. 
He continues sitting on you, putting most of his weight on your trembling body. The white dress you're wearing, a satin piece that he found on their last hunting trip into the town, rides up dangerously close to your panties. 
“I need to teach you a lesson in respect, wife,” Joel growls. 
He stands and just when you think you can escape again, he yanks you up with him. Joel holds your arm tight with one hand while taking off his belt with the other. He spins you around and brings your wrists behind your back, using the belt to bind them together. 
“You wanna see what’s out there? Since you think you’re so tough?” Joel asks, not waiting for an answer and instead dragging you to the gate. “I do everything to make this place safe for you, darlin’. But this is how you repay me? Runnin’ off at the first chance you get?” 
You’re surprised at his words and the sincerity of his voice. He sounds almost… sad. 
“Practically beggin’ to be out there with those fuckers instead of me?” he continues, “The only man who can truly protect you?” 
You reach the gate and your heartbeat picks up again. You’ve never been out this far. In fact, you’re acres away from the actual commune. While the gates are secure and regularly enforced, you can’t help but feel truly terrified that something will grab you just outside these barriers.  
“I’m sorry, Joel–” 
He stops, spinning you around and landing a hard slap, slap, slap on your ass. 
“You address me as sir.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” you cry out, “I learned my lesson. Let’s–let’s go back.” 
Joel ignores you, choosing instead to march you right to the gate. He keeps one hand on your arm and uses the other to maneuver the many locks and wires on the barrier door until it finally opens. 
“No, please! I said I was sorry! I wasn’t thinking!” 
He drags you out and for the first time in your life, you’ve left the commune. Despite only a metal gate separating both sides, this area seems devoid of life. 
He walks and walks until you wonder if you’ll pass out from the panic. You fall to your knees and Joel crouches right in front of you. 
“Your daddy ever tell you about the infected?” Joel whispers, tilting your chin up with his index finger. “How they’ll bite and rip into any part of your flesh.” 
“No, please,” you whimper. 
He drags a finger down your neck and over your exposed collarbones, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Your nipples tighten as he glides his finger over one breast and then the other. 
“Once they’re done with you, if there’s anything left, then you become just as mindless and violent as them. Forever lost–” 
“Sir–” 
His hand tightens around your neck, cutting off your words. 
“It’s not just one, babydoll. They like to travel in hordes. Makes it easier to find their victims.” 
Your air supply thins and blood rushes to your ears. You squeeze your thighs unconsciously as the pulsing between them only grows. Joel ghosts his lips over yours and your eyes flutter closed without thinking. 
“But it’s not just them,” he whispers over your lips, “there’s non-infected out there. People who won’t think twice about hurtin’ a pretty girl like you. Killin’ ya’ just for fun.” 
You’re not sure who kisses who first. It’s not the chaste kiss the two of you shared at the altar. It’s rough and has you pressing your body close to his so you can take every swipe of his tongue or bite from his teeth. He continues holding your neck, lightly squeezing so you have no other choice than to gasp for air. 
You fall back at the push of his hand on your chest. He flips you on your side to untie his belt from your wrists. You attack the moment your hands are free, sliding your hands through his salt and pepper hair and tugging him down.
Joel hisses but returns each of your kisses and bites with his own. You hear the squawk of a crow from above and you're immediately reminded of where you are. 
“Wait, sir,” you gasp, “not here. Take me back to your–our house–” 
He drags his teeth down your neck, rubbing his beard into your soft skin and biting down. 
“Thought you’d rather be out here than with me?” he says, repeating your words from earlier.  
“No,” you whimper, trying to push him off, “not here. I–” 
He reaches your chest and sucks your nipple into his mouth right over your dress. Your words are cut off and you're arching your back, trying to push more into his mouth. 
Joel makes room between your thighs and grinds down as you twist his wavy strands of hair between your fingers. His hard bulge rubs over your pussy and your whimper at the roughness.
He pinches your other nipple between two fingers then leans back to tug down the straps of your dress. Warm, summer wind glides over your now naked breasts and you shiver. 
“Look at these pretty tits,” he groans, “all mine.” 
Joel yanks the skirt of the dress over your tummy and runs a finger up and down your panty-covered pussy. You shamelessly grind down on his hand and cry out the moment he lands a harsh slap. 
“Please,” you beg with what's left of your sanity, “take me home.” 
With the same technique as before, Joel holds both wrists in one hand and uses the other to rip your panties off. You try to close your thighs from the sting of the elastic, but he’s quick to stop you. 
“Christ,” he whispers, “now ain’t that a beauty.” 
With two fingers, Joel swipes through your slick folds and brings them up to his mouth.   
“Mmm, sweet girl. Needa taste of this pussy.” 
“What do you mean—“
You try to remind Joel of just where the two of you are, but he fits his broad shoulders between your thighs and fuses his mouth to your pussy. 
You’re surprised, stunned silent by the heat of his mouth on your most intimate parts. You’re by no means ignorant of what a husband does to his wife—you’ve read enough of the romance books your mother keeps hidden in her bedside table and heard enough stories from your friends to have an idea of what happens on a wedding night. 
But never did you imagine it would feel like this. His beard and mustache only heighten the sensitivity between your thighs. The setting sun and the dense forest that surrounds the two of you should add to your terror, but Joel manages to put your attention elsewhere. 
His tongue lashes repeatedly over your clit and down to tease your entrance. You throw your head back onto the grass and stare through blurred vision at the purple sky, uncaring of where you are and of what creeps in the dark. 
He’s greedy, eating away at you like you're the last meal he’ll ever have. You’re slick and sticky, painting his face with your juices, making it easy for him to push a thick finger into your entrance. 
The stretch burns, but he calms you with a swipe of his tongue on your clit and the vibrations of his moans on your skin. 
“Your parents were right, you are a virgin,” he groans, pushing on the little piece of thin flesh that separates the rest of you. “Gonna be a tight fit, baby.”
You have no time to think about when your parents had that conversation with him. Instead, you're dumbfounded at the size of his fingers. You whine, unsure of what exactly you're asking, but nonetheless chanting more, more, more into the air. 
Joel manages to slide a second finger, curving them and pressing on something bumpy that makes you twitch and see black dots in your vision.
He stretches and scissors his fingers in your tightness, opening you up more and sucking your swollen button between his lips. Just when the heat is about to consume every inch of your body, he stops. 
“No,” you whine, trying to yank his head back to your thighs. 
Joel dodges your hands and laughs at the desperation written all over your face. He leans down, pressing his wet face to yours in a sloppy kiss, forcing you to suck on his tongue. Riding your pillow doesn’t compare to this.  
Just as before, Joel rips away and catches your wrist right when you reach for him. 
“If you woulda been a good girl, I woulda eaten this virgin pussy till mornin’,” he says while unbuttoning his jeans. “Made you ride my face and cum as many times as you wanted.” 
You barely understand how someone could ride a face, and yet you clench and gush around nothing, wanting his mouth or fingers back. You see the dark, curly hair at his base before he pulls out his length. 
“But for bein’ a brat, I’m gonna make you come on my cock instead.”
The tip is swollen and leaking a white-ish liquid that makes your mouth water at the sight. He lets go of your wrist and gently slaps your face. 
“Are you listenin’ to me, girl? I won’t fuck you if you ain’t payin’ attention.” 
“Y-yes, sir. I’m listening.” 
Joel laughs once again, noticing the dazed look in your eyes. 
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make it fit.” 
There’s a craving inside of you, one that has you suddenly feeling so empty, that if he doesn’t fill you with his cock you think you’ll die. You repeat the word over and over in your head. 
You’ve read it more than enough times and heard it through hushed giggles from your friends, yet the way Joel says the word, the way he squeezes and twists his hand over his cock, you finally understand what the word truly means. 
Your fingers and the handle of your hairbrush were never able to give you what you so desperately seeked. You always stopped before you went in too deep, never able to take that final push inside.
He spreads open your thighs and you lean up on your elbows to try to catch a glance at what he’s doing. You see your sticky fluids stuck on your inner thighs and over the tip of his cock. He pushes in just an inch, and you gasp at the thickness. 
“Fuck, tight little thing,” Joel moans. “Need you to beg f’me, baby.” 
“Please, please, sir,” you answer quickly, “please, I–I want it!” 
He sinks in another inch, his face pinching in barely controlled restraint. 
“Say–fuck, say ‘I need your cock, sir’.”
The words are caught in your throat as you try to adjust to his size. Joel doesn’t like that you take too long to answer and slaps your cheek. 
“Answer me.” 
“I need your–your cock, sir,” you whine. 
“Again, fu–again,” he demands. 
You try your best to repeat his words, except he’s too far gone now. There’s a pinch, a rip of thin flesh and suddenly he’s sliding all the way in. You claw at his arms and at the grass to get away but he’s gripping your thighs, pressing deeper and whispering take it, pretty girl and you ain’t getting away from me.  
You feel full, so incredibly full. You’re split open, ripped apart just for him. 
“I know, baby. I know,” Joel coos, “it’ll hurt only for a minute.” 
His thumb rubs tiny circles on your clit and he leans over to press kisses on your eyelids and cheeks, licking away the tears that fall. 
The stretch burns, but his groans of pleasure and his gentle kisses have a warm glow spreading through your body. Joel notices the change in you and glances down to watch your hips move in small circles. 
“There we go, baby,” he moans, “knew you’d like it.”
He pulls out slowly, keeping eye contact with you and watching each pinch of your brow and flutter of your eyelids. 
“Saved this pretty cunt just f’me, yeah?” 
“Yes, sir,” you whisper, pushing away the sweaty curls from Joel’s forehead. 
He picks up the pace, curling his hand behind your knee and pushing it into your chest, arranging you like a doll. The pain now completely gone, you lay there, running hands over his arms and watching the sweat drip down his temples. 
Every slide of his cock kisses the very end of you. Your hips move and twist on their own accord and you have no choice but to cry out into the night sky. 
“Takin’ this–this big cock like a good girl, yeah?” Joel groans, watching his cock plunge in and out of your little hole. “Need you–fuck, need you to say you’re mine, baby.” 
“I–I’m yours, sir,” you whine, feeling a twinge in your core, “yours, yours, yours.” 
You dig your fingers in his neck and drag him down for a kiss. He grunts as you bite deep enough to draw blood. 
The thoughts from earlier, about running away from him, leave your mind. Even if it hurts a little, even if you aren’t prepared to be a wife, this is exactly what you need. And you won’t let anyone else have him.
“You gonna cum, girl? Gonna cum on your husband’s big cock?” 
This time he doesn’t stop you. His hand squeezes your neck and he traps you into the ground, pistoning his hips into your slick cunt. Your oxygen lessens and your cumming, numbness and white heat spreading throughout your body. 
“Just like that, baby,” Joel growls, “soak my cock.” 
You're gushing on him, painting the hair at his base with sticky juices. You tremble in his arms and claw at the hand that squeezes your neck. Joel doesn’t let up, fucking into your limp body, loving the way you mewl underneath him.  
He moves in short thrusts, stiffening and letting out an animalistic grunt into the night sky. He presses his head into your neck, sucking and biting into your soft skin while he spills his seed inside of you.
"Take my cum, baby. Take it, take it," Joel moans.
You clench around him, massage his cock with your inner muscles. Every drop of his cum belongs deep inside of you. 
With the little strength left in your body, you run your fingers through his hair. Joel's hands move to grip your thighs and he grinds down, spilling the last of his cum into your cunt.
"You belong to me," Joel whispers. "Don’t ever run again."
You lay there in the grass, breasts bare and pussy full of your husband's cock.
"I won’t," you promise. 
Joel leans back and slowly slips out. There’s a twinge of red mixed with his cum that he wipes up with your ripped panties. He lays down next to you and brings you in close so that your head is placed on his chest. You listen to his heartbeat and the sounds of crickets around you.
You think about the long way back to Joel's–well now your house too–and then you remember exactly where the two of you are.
"Sir, we're outside of the gates what if something or someone comes–we don't have any weapons–"
“There’s another gate a few miles out," he interrupts, "I installed it for extra protection around this place.” 
You drop your head on his chest from relief and exhaustion. Joel rubs a hand down your back and squeezes your arm. 
“I’d never put you in harm's way, pretty girl.”
-
general taglist: iloved1lfs0
ps: i know that there has been other cult leader!joel fics but in no way shape or form have i copied those works for this. if there is something major in my work that sounds similar to someone else's, it's purely by coincidence. i respect each person who takes time out of their day to write FREE content and the last thing i'd do is steal their storylines 🤍🤍🤍
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pep reads: gojo satoru – long fics (pt.1)
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。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
☆ the way you love me by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 29/? chapters] [smut!] [fwb!gojo] #pep's first fic she was OBSESSED with #real good good smut WITH FEELINGS
“We can stop anytime. If either one of us feels like... this ...might be too much. We stop, no questions .” “We can stop anytime,” Gojo repeated “... and nothing changes between us .” You swallowed hard at his last statement. You may not be able to read his eyes but you could hear it in his voice that he needed reassurance. “No matter what happens, we’ll still be friends...” you replied softly, “now kiss me before I change my mind.”
☆ you and me by tomodachi [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [tear jerker] [eventual smut!] #pep cried #gojo just kinda loves you real hard
“Prisoners say the most comical things when their judgment comes,” you tilt your head, lifting a finger before him, “Who are you?"
--- History is written by the winners, Satoru knew this well. It was only when he lost and got sealed inside the Prison Realm he learned how to be weak and find out a long buried truth.
☆ ito by peekamatcha [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 48/? chapters] [super slow burn] [shinto elements] #pep DIES with every update #the TWIST in that one chapter omg
You, a former sorcerer now working as a university lecturer, were hoping to maintain your distance with the sorcerer world for an eternity to come. However, with the reappearance of an upperclassmen from a decade ago, you are forced to go on a journey which you would rather sit out of. But somebody must save humanity from the impending apocalypse and apparently the job falls on the shoulders of you two.
It would have been alright had he not been everything you didn’t want to be reminded of. And the sacrifices to be made may be more than what had been bargained for. ☆moonlight by @septembersummer [AO3/tumblr:] [status: completed ◦ 10/10 chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #pep SCREAMED
Gojo Satoru is dying. And no, it's not his fault this time.
The curse which is withering Satoru into an early grave is actually the product of his great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, who had a couple of sons that refused to procreate. And what does a proud, powerful man do when his sons refuse to fuck, and there won't be another heir to the clan?
He curses his own bloodline, of course.
It's only natural that he forces them through some twisted form of sorcery to become uncontrollably, violently attracted to the person they're most genetically compatible with.
It's even better that the curse creates a permanent, unbreakable bond between the two unwilling lovers. That's right, it usually takes more than one fuck to make a baby-- so, why not force them to have twelve?
Satoru wished his ancestor would be resurrected from the grave, just so that he could kill him again. That is, before Satoru inevitably dies.
He's had a good run, he thinks. Now, all he has to do is make sure you don't find out that you can fuck him back to life and try to very stupidly save him from himself.
(here's a spoiler: you do).
☆ a typical family by @literalia [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed? ◦ 32/32 chapters] [non liner narrative] [dad!gojo] #pep absolutely MELTED #slice of life #pep's gojo comfort fic
"satoru. where did you get these kids?"
or
after a six month absence, satoru shows up at your door two little kids following behind. chaos ensues.
☆ and if i cant see by hollowdonut [AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 26/? chapters] [slowburn] [eventual smut!] [tw: ptsd] #pep loves the reader's dynamics with gojo!
They say eyes are the window to the soul, but Gojo’s eyes are almost always hidden behind a blindfold. Even when they aren’t, you can never tell what he’s thinking.
You wonder if you should’ve taken that teaching job in Kyoto instead.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
bonus!
☆ all hail the empress! by @chuluoyi [tumblr/AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 1/? chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #but THE END THO? OMGGG you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...
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heartmii · 8 months
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TOA 00
✮⋆˙apollo x male!reader
!warnings!: male reader but can be seen as gn, angst, mentions of blood.
✮⋆˙ this was honestly a fic idea i had for a while but since toa isn't really that popular, i figured it wouldn't do too well so instead here's a one-shot! Has been continued !
✮⋆˙ next
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"nonono.. beloved..." the god whispered as he dropped onto his knees beside your bloodied body. his hands trembling when he reached out to touch you.
your eyes were shut when he arrived at your spot. an opening deep in the forest behind his temple. after he'd set the sun and, his sister took her shift, he would then meet you here. here, where he learned of your body, and you learned his. here, where the whispers of intimacy stayed between two souls. here, where, apollo, the all-powerful god, submitted to a mortal and allowed his body to be used for love.
now, in the shadow of his love, was only grief. for as long as you love, grief will one day be in its place. a game of chance. it is said love is a fool's emotion as only a fool would jump into a game knowing the outcome would be a loss.
and perhaps, the god was the biggest fool of them all. loving a mortal promised nothing but loss, yet, when your eyes flickered open and connected with his, a fool was what he became once again.
his heart thumped against his chest. grief soon turned into hope. although your eyes were weak, and your skin was paling. you were alive. breathing. death had not claimed you, there was a chance you could live — a chance he could save you.
"apollo." even on your deathbed, his name would roll off your tongue like honey. he was worshipped, and his name was said many times a day by mortals wishing for his blessings or his wisdom.
but, your call for him was different. when you called for him it wasn't for him as a god, there was no expectation behind your words, no secret goal. if you did expect anything, if there was a goal, it was nothing more than simply just the presence of apollo. you would say his name gently as if you didn't want to scare him off, a reminder he could let his guard down around you.
there's a difference in being valued for what you could give versus being valued for who you were. something apollo could not comprehend until he met you. "what is it, beloved?" he murmured, his attempt to be gentle with you in your fragile state as his cheek leaned into the hand you had outstretched towards him.
your thumb rubbed circles against his skin. "I've been waiting for you." apollo swallowed down a sob. he could hear it in your voice, how hard it was for you to speak full sentences. broken breaths in between each of your words.
quickly, he answered before you could speak again. "i know, love, i know. it was my father's doing. he dispatched hermes to distract me... he knew i was coming to see you..." he let out a shaky breath, "my father punished you to punish me."
zeus's cruelty was nothing new to apollo. his father had been cruel to him his whole life. it was the whole reason he began the revolt against him alongside hera and poseidon in the first place. to be liberated from his father's tyranny.
they'd been found out, of course. hera had already received her punishment. she was to be suspended into the sky wrapped in chains. all of olympus winced as she cried through the night but no one dared to help her out of fear of their "mighty" king.
he wasn't supposed to hurt you. never in a thousand years would apollo have done any of this with the knowledge that you could be caught in the crossfire between him and his father. this wasn't how their game went. zeus had never gone after his lovers before. but dammit, he should've known better. he should've known his father would make sure to break him down. come for his every weakness. now, because of his carelessness, you are a pinch close to death. practically drowning in your own blood and only being able to use the tree stump behind you for support to stay upright.
the longer apollo's eyes stayed on your struggling figure, the foggier they became. "oh, im so, so, sorry." he choked out, the sob he swallowed down earlier forcing its way back up his throat. "this is all my fault."
he felt your thumb swipe at tears he wasn't aware he'd been shedding. how could you still be so gentle with him after he had put you in this situation? so attentive even though you were the one who needed the most attention?
And your eyes, they bore into his with the same amount of warmth as always. "hey.. its okay...we'll be okay." you mustered up a smile and, for a second, apollo believed your words, that everything would be okay. because your superpower was making him - everyone - feel like everything would be okay.
reality hit him with a strangled cough coming from you. he jumped, immediately, blinking away the rest of his tears as his hands helped to support you, your blood coating him. his breath quickened. every second you were falling further into the embrace of death. he was wasting time moping instead of helping.
apollo trembled as he went to press a hand over your wound. "let me heal you."
"no," you denied. it was all you could say with the little bit of strength you had left.
a helpless cry left apollo's lips, his tears flowing once again. your answer did not surprise him. in fact, he expected it. in all of your meetings with apollo, you never failed to mention that you cherished the value of a mortal life. to value which is rare, and what is more rare than a mortal life with the only promise that it would one day end.
apollo was a god. he was never born to die but born to continue living and changing as time allowed. life meant little to him, he'd taken many lives without much thought just as much as he created lives.
that was normal in the life of a god but, you were not a god. only a man. a fact that was being painfully made apparent more so now than ever.
power coursed through apollo's body and, yet, he could not get himself to use it. you were just a man. a man who got a god to submit to your will. you taught him the value in life, the value in you. in turn, he could not disregard your wishes as he could anyone else. he hated it. apollo hated how he loved you so much, he couldn't be selfish. how even when you were slipping through his fingers, he stopped himself from healing you because he knew you would be unhappy if he did, and he would be dammed if he was the reason for your unhappiness.
it was childish to believe that at the doors of death would you change your mind, abandon your humanity, and beg him to save you. "is this really what you want..." he asked. a plead, his last attempt to bargain with you.
you didn't answer his question. he preferred that. it left room to wonder, pretend there was a chance at something else. instead, you reached behind his head, pushing it forward until it gently bumped against your own. you didn't speak at first, opting to admire the face of your lover one last time.
“you're so beautiful..." you breathed out through your staggered breath.
apollo scowled at your words. Not finding the humor in your inappropriate timing for a compliment. “really? that's what you have to say right now." he frowned, his lips jutting into a familiar pout.
“it's true," you hummed, bumping noses with him.
he allowed you to indulge in your affections, scrunching his nose in response. a pointless attempt at gaining some type of normalcy within the situation. yet, the reality loomed over him. he could not shake it off as easily as you. “you’re dying and your last words to me are going to be something I hear from everyone.”
your laugh was music to his ears. soft, like your voice, but full of joy. the type of laugh that could light up a room and have even the gloomiest laugh along with you. he needed to savor it. to imprint the sound in his mind for the days he needs the encouragement to keep going. you found laughter even in a moment like this.
"it's only a matter of truth," you said, eyes flickering to his lips followed by a tilt of your head. when your lips brush, you murmur against his lips. "besides, wouldn't you miss hearing it from me the most?"
his stomach flutters at your words. of course he'd miss hearing your praise. not just for his beauty, but for anything. he held you in the highest regard, like you were a god yourself. but, it was easier to pretend he didn't care, and instead leave those words unspoken.
he settled for angling his lips to meet yours and disregarding your previous question. "you're being ridiculous." apollo mumbles, ignoring his aching heart.
then there is only silence as the two of you lean in to close the gap between you. like a magnet pulling you forward. when your lips touch, there's an immediate desire. your teeth smacking against each other, your hand pulling apollo's head in closer, deepening the heated kiss as much as you could. he didn't expect to feel droplets on his cheeks. you had cried. the realization made him want to weep.
you had nothing to lose, so you gave it your all. one last time.
the pull away was hesitant, and even then, your lips still ghosted one another's. forehead's touching, your eyes met. "i love you," you declared as if it was the first time you had confessed.
"i love you too." a silent goodbye hidden behind the desperation of his words.
you sighed contently as your expression softened and your eyes shut with a smile. apollo wanted to speak, to yell at you to keep your eyes open. keeping them on him until you couldnt anymore instead, he chose not to speak. the look on your face didn't let him.
you were happy. happy to accept your fate. you showed no signs of regret, no anger, no guilt, nothing that would keep you on this earth any moment longer. dying happily. who was apollo to take that from you?
his cries and begs would only put stress on you. you didn't deserve that. your death had to be just as beautiful as your birth.
so, apollo continued to sit there, watching your breath. how after a few seconds, it would begin to slow down, and the little tufts of warm air he felt against his cheek gently came to a stop. the cool air of nature taking its place.
your body was heavy against his. cold too. he didn't care, he would hold you until you were warm again. soon, as the hours went by, he would have to bring upon another day. a day that you would not get to be apart of.
until then, he would hold you under the moonlight one last time
they were caught. after making it onto the ship and successfully snagging caligua’s stupid sandals, they were taken by surprise by a horse. It was ridiculous. as piper laid out cold on the steed’s back, apollo made conversation about his demise. It was a nerve racking walk to the emperor’s throne room. caligua wasn’t merciful and apollo wasn’t sure of the whereabouts of meg and jason.
as a god, he thought he saw everything. but as lester, the surprises were never ending.
they made it to caligua’s throne, apollo’s eyes immediately scanning how many enemies were in the room. he wasn’t shocked to see the loyal attendants of caligua, nor was he shocked to see meg and jason trapped beside him.
but when his eyes settled onto the person beside caligua’s throne, apollo wanted to throw up. his heart thumping against his chest making him lose his breath. It was you. how was this possible? you died in his arms. In Ancient Greece.
reading the shock on his face, you dared to give him the smile he loved most as you stood behind the enemy. with a tilt of your head and a wave, you greeted him, “hello apollo, long time no see.”
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bonthefuckjourx · 4 months
Text
Lucifer x Sinner!reader (Hazbin Hotel)
   SUMMARY: You wake up in Hell and realize you didn't make the cut into Heaven. You never did anything evil, but never believed in God. You wanted to live life by your own morals. Little did you know a group of hazbins would take you in and show you more kindness than anyone on Earth ever did. Then you met someone you never thought you would, Lucifer, the King of Hell. Then you did something you never thought you would, make a deal with the devil.
WARNINGS: brief mention of depression/anxiety
WORD COUNT: 3100k+
A/N: Hello everyone! I haven't posted around tumblr all that much, but I hope this gets some traction as there isn't much Lucifer fanfiction to begin with. I love writing fantasy stories intermeshed with romance and Hazbin Hotel was a perfect world for this.
And yes, eventually there will be smut. I suppose you'll have to stick around and find out~
(Also, I hope you all know the Reputation album by Taylor Swift is fueling this ^-^)
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Chapter One: ...Ready For It?
One day you were in school studying for the next exam and then you were spawned into a hellscape like no other. The literal hell. You never were religious, and it always seemed more like a fear-mongering cult to you. Apparently even though you didn’t do anything evil or inherently bad you still went to hell. Gunshots fired off into the distance making you drop to the ground. They were loud and scared you to no end. Shakily you stood up, started to run. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you didn’t want to die, not again. Eventually you ran out of strength and wandered inside a hotel-like building before collapsing on the ground.
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“Don’t just stand there Vaggie, come help me! It’s okay we have you now.”
With closed eyes you made out an alarmed high-pitched voice. It sounded like warmth and trust. You didn’t have the strength to open your eyes. Arms lifted you up and after some time you landed in a warm bed. You drifted off into a fitful sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As your eyes fluttered open you were met with one beady red eye.
“Nifty would ya give her some space?”
This so-called nifty jumped off your bed and landed on the floor next to you.  
“Hi, I’m Charlie. You collapsed on the floor of my hotel and so we took you up to a room. And yes, you can stay as long as you would like.”
            A hand was extended out for you to take and with a shaky arm you took it. The demon was pale with two red dots on her face that looked a bit like blush. She wore a suit like attire and seemed to be the one in charge. As you looked around you noticed a snake-like demon who said his name was Sir Pentious, a cat-like demon whose named Husk, and a spider-like demon whose named Angel Dust. The last demon sent chills down your spine with his unnerving smile, his name was the Radio Demon or Alastor. You hoped you never had to be in a room alone with him.
            “Uh thank you all for helping me. It’s my first day in hell and it’s a lot. I didn’t know where to go so I just kept running and running and it was so loud and violent and-“You started to look around frantically hyperventilating a little. This was all too much.
            “Hey it’s okay. This is supposed to be a safe place. You don’t have to go out there anymore if you don’t want to.” You looked at Charlie reassurance in her eyes.
            “It’s called the Hazbin Hotel! We rehabilitate sinners so that they hopefully one day can go to Heaven. As you know my name is Charlie. I’m also the Princess of Hell and I really want to be able to save my people from this life.”
 She looked solemn, but determined and in that moment, you had no doubt of what she would accomplish. You sat up and pulled Charlie in for a hug. Even though she was born in hell, she was much kinder than any soul you met on earth.
“Thank you, Charlie.”
You pulled away from the hug and noticed a tearful look in her eyes even though she was smiling.
“I’ll be honest I’m not quite sure why I’m here. It’s not like I did anything super evil, I just kind of lived an average life.”
“You didn’t kill anyone?” The radio demon mentioned from the corner.
“What! No? What is wrong with you?”
“What about prostitution? Apparently, the big guy hates it when you whore yourself out like that,” Angel Dust mentioned with a shrug.
“I was a poor college student, but I didn’t turn to that. I just had to take out an insane amount of loans.”
“Gambling, or suicide? I lost everything and well there wasn’t much place left in the mortal realm for me. The easy way out is an easy way into hell,” said Husk who stood next to Angel Dust.
“Nope neither. I don’t really think I had a reason other than not believing in God. I mean I can see now that demons are real, but why would I believe in a God that doesn’t care? His rules are horrible, you can’t be gay, or just enjoy yourself with another person. I lived my life by my morals, not someone else’s.”
You crossed your arms hoping the others would get the hint. You just wanted to be alone right now. Your life was cut short, and for what?
“I’m sorry y/n, but we can figure something out. Just give me some time, I promise.”
Charlie held out her pinkie and reluctantly you agreed.
“We’ll give you some time alone then.”
With that Charlie turned to leave and the rest followed her. After the door shut you curled up under the covers and wondered if life would ever be better. This whole heaven and hell thing made your head hurt. You never had much luck in life why would this be any different?
            A few weeks passed and although your death was still fresh in your mind you started to feel a little bit better. You and Charlie talked and set out on a plan to help rehabilitate you. She said you really didn’t need much help, but rather she had the hard task of trying to convince Heaven you should be up there with them. You both talked every day, and it helped take some of the edge off your anxiety. That and you always seemed to have company when you wanted it at the hotel. Angel Dust made you laugh and was always up for a drinking game of some sorts. Husk was always there if you needed to talk or rant about your previously human life. Sir Pentious was a bit peculiar, but over time you warmed up to him too. You didn’t talk to Vaggie much as she always seemed a bit distant. Everything she did was for Charlie, and she didn’t exactly make friends with other people and tended to only light up if Charlie was in the room. Thankfully you both silently agreed not to talk much. In the evenings you all would curl up around the fireplace and share stories or play games. Charlie loved to play human games like Never Have I Ever or Twenty Questions. She claimed they helped build trust.
            One morning while you and Charlie were having your daily talk, she mentioned that her dad would be over later that day. She was going to show him the hotel so that hopefully he could set her up an audience with Heaven. She could finally mention the souls, like you, here that could be rehabilitated. You were ecstatic that she could finally move forward with her plan but scared to meet someone new. Not only that, but this was Charlie’s dad Lucifer. The Lucifer, like the biblical fallen angel that probably has some awesome, but frightening powers. The anxiety was eating you up and you could tell Charlie wasn’t much better. She mentioned she hadn’t seen him in a few years, and you wondered how hard that must be on her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Everyone gather around! He should be here any minute,” Charlie yelled out to us, clapping to have our attention. I stood next to Angel Dust as we gathered around her near the front entrance. He always made me feel a little safer.
            “Charlie, so good to see you!”
 The door swung open and in came the most eccentric man I ever saw. He was almost bouncing around the room, hugging Charlie, then seeing Razzle and Dazzle, and finally stopped when he noticed the rest of us. You couldn’t move your gaze as you realized he was staring straight into your eyes. The moment was fleeting as Charlie grabbed his attention.
“Dad, hi. This is my hotel, and these are the inhabitants. Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, and y/n.”
When Charlie mentioned your name Lucifer met your gaze again. It was electrifying and made you blush to no end. He looked away giving Charlie his full attention once again. Suddenly Alastor appeared right next to her.
            “And I am the hotelier. Pleased to meet you, the name’s Alastor.”
            Lucifer’s eyes widened as Alastor put his arm around Charlie, his smile growing ever bigger. You swore a small growl came out of Lucifer’s mouth.
            “Hot,” Angel Dust whispered near your ear, and you did your best not to give out a small laugh.
            “Charlie, you need to stay away from this demon.”
            “Dad, I trust him. He’s been nothing but helpful. Once you see the hotel, I know you’ll have a change of heart.”
            Soon Charlie was leading her father around the hotel with Alastor on her right-hand side. Lucifer was less than happy to see his daughter hanging out around the Radio Demon. He didn’t trust Alastor, which you understood in a way. He was happy to meet Vaggie stating how he also like girls. He was quite awkward, but adorable in a way.
Next thing you know Alastor and Lucifer were arguing again. Music playing randomly and seemingly out of nowhere.
            “Yea don’t ask me why, but sometimes they break out into song.” Angel Dust leaned in towards you to comment shrugging his shoulders.
            A small laugh escaped as you took your time eyeing Lucifer up. Soon enough he was singing, his voice mesmerizing. His inflections and body language all showed off how prideful and confident he was. You supposed that’s why he’s called the sin of pride. There was something so sweet about how much he wanted to help his daughter, and attractive too. You never were able to have a family on Earth, but you wouldn’t mind having his babies.         
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After the little sing off between Alastor and Lucifer, Charlie talked to her dad about the audience with Heaven. He decided to help her, and you could tell their relationship healed a little. You decided to leave them to it and left to go up toward your room. The elevator dinged at your level, and you walked out. The balcony at the end of the hall caught your attention as its glass doors were open. A breeze blew in and you relished the fresh air. As you reached toward the doorway you hesitated, bringing your hand back. Your heartrate picked up, pounding in your ears. You were going to turn around and run into your room, your safe place. Then you heard someone approach from behind you, making you quickly turn away from the glass doors.
            “Beautiful day out, isn’t it?” Lucifer mentioned as he moved towards you.
            “I suppose if you could call hell beautiful.”
            “Some might, though I suppose we aren’t apart of that group.  What are you doing over here?” He motioned toward the opened doors near me.
            “I was going to see what the view was like, but I backed out.” You looked away from him, not being able to look him in his eyes. He stopped walking when he was right in from of you and grabbed your chin guiding you to look at him. In his eyes you could see concern and empathy.
            “I know all too well what it’s like to be limited by your own mind. Not that we have a physiatrist in hell, but depression has had me for a long time.” He gave a small sympathetic smile. A small blush crossed your face being so close to him. Your heart melted a little at the kindness he showed you.
            “Yea well, I just get anxious about going outside. I thought maybe I could try, but it was a stupid idea. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.” He let go of your face and walked around you towards the balcony.
            “I know it’s not my place, but I could help you. Not to be boastful, but you are in the presence of the most powerful demon in hell. You would be safe with me.”
With that he held out his hand, willing you to take it. In that light he looked angelic even waiting for your hand, a genuine smile across his face as the outside wind gently rustled his hair. For once in your life, you wish you could just take that leap. If only…
…and then you did.
He pulled you in close against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat as he told you to wrap your arms around his neck. As soon as you did, he leapt off the side of the balcony over the railing. You closed your eyes and screamed as you both fell into a freefall. He wrapped his wings around you until they flapped open, allowing him to gain air. You kept your eyes closed the entire time, clinging to his neck and burying your face there. He chuckled to himself committing to memory this moment, feeling whole again. After about 10 minutes you both landed on solid ground. You didn’t dare let go, but he understood what you needed. Lucifer cradled you in his arms as he walked indoors.
“Here you go, you can open your eyes now.”
As you looked around you realized you were in an observatory-like room. It had high windows on all sides that looked out at Sin City. You didn’t realize until now how hard you were gripping him and embarrassingly tore yourself away from him.
“Sorry… Where are we?”
“Don’t be sorry for being yourself. It was cute.” You blushed and looked down at the floor, but quickly returned your eyes to him.
“It’s my study of sorts. I like to come up here to think or waste the day away. I used to invent so many beautiful things, but I’ve been uninspired for quite some time.”
You walked around taking in the view then turned back to look at him.
“Maybe you just need someone to inspire you.”
“Why are you willing?” He looked at you with a smirk on his face, almost implying something more.
“Sure, why not. Maybe you could help me get over my fears in return. I mean look at what you have already done for me today. I hadn’t left that hotel since I arrived.”
“Sounds like a plan, do we have a deal?” He walked toward you, willing you to take his hand again.
“What and make a deal with the devil?”
He pulled his hand away and for a second you swore you noticed hurt flash across his face. Quickly he hid it, behind a devilish smile and you decided then you’d never make him feel that way ever again.
“It doesn’t have to be, more so a saying then anything.”
            You stepped forward taking his hand in yours. He lifted his head up to look into your eyes, his face slightly flushed.
            “No, I want it to be, Lucifer. Let’s make a deal, to be there for each other until we can beat this. “
            He nodded his head, smiling with loving eyes, tears forming in them. With that he placed his other hand over yours and spoke. His eyes turned red, horns sprouted, and he looked possessed. Just as fast as it started, it ended. In the end you were left with a pentagram tattoo on your right hand. It was beautiful, but soon it faded leaving just an indent of it behind.
            “I enchanted it so that others cannot see it, however you can feel it. It will be binding until we fulfill the deal. I don’t own your soul or anything, but it acts like a bond between us. It will also let you teleport, put your hand over it and think of where you want to go. It’ll let me know where you’re going, but don’t worry I won’t pry.” Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as for once you felt like you could finally take a breath. You felt much safer knowing Lucifer was a thought away.
After that you two kept each other company and every now and then he would show you something he made. His magic was gorgeous and made your heart soar, you’ve never seen anything like it. As the night dragged on you mentioned you should probably head back so that the other’s wouldn’t worry.
            “Remember just touch the pentagram with your hand and think of where you want to go.”
            As you did you thought of your warm bed and the pentagram flashed to life. Then you felt something. The bond between you two tightened and you felt him. His magic pulsed through him as if it was alive and in front of you a portal appeared. The bond closed then for you. It only stays opens when he uses his magic, but as you stared into Lucifer’s eyes you felt emotions overpower you. Thoughts of safe and warm and love flowed through your head. Lucifer looked confused and scared for a second before becoming his confident self again. You said your goodnights as you fled through the portal to your bed.
Lucifer’s POV
            He watched as y/n touched her hand waiting for his magic. He hadn’t made many deals in his life, but he knew enough to know what to expect. There would be a bond in place caused from his magic and that would be used to make portals.
            His eyes wandered y/n’s body taking a second to indulge. Quickly he reverted to her eyes as she looked back at him. He wondered when their short friendship turned into more, or if it simply always was. She made him feel safe and warm and loved. At that moment a small tendril of magic snapped into place. He stepped back afraid of the woman in front of him, before realizing how much he was showing with his face. After recomposing himself he bid her goodnight and she left with a sleepy smile on her face.
            As the portal closed, he fell to his knees, wondering why fate would be so cruel. After thousands of years, trying to find something to inspire him and be his light. After all the fights with Lilith and trying to raise Charlie simply because he thought Lilith was it. With the palm of his hand, he wiped the tears away as he sobbed looking though the skylight at the darkness above. She wasn’t an archangel or a seraphim, or even an angel at all. All this torture and pain was for her.
            His mate…
            No, his salvation.
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cup1dt3a · 1 year
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hi, if you dont mind me requesting, how about a wally darling x gn reader where they are the villain of the show, but like,, unintentionally. they are vv clumsy and knock into shelves at howdys, trip eddie on his mail route, ruin julies chalk games, etc. and every time they feel horrible, but run away because they are scared of confrontation. so one day they knock over all of wallys paints while hes stepped away, and when he goes to their house to give them a piece of his mind, he finds them crying and ranting to their cat about how bad they feel but how scared they are to apologize (sorry if its too long!! ive had this idea in my head all day lol)
A poor soul who is mistaken for the villain being a victim to their own clumsiness. I love it! Hope you’re having a good day or that it gets better! Also you’re fine I love it when I get descriptive requests! ⚠️⚠️warning: Angst
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“ Oh no! No no no!” You gasped panicking over the now kicked over bucket of paints.
All you wanted to do was take a closer look at Wally’s newest artwork on the large canvas. But no you just had to accidentally step into one of the paint cans. As you tried to get your leg out of it you had only made things worse. Sloshing paint everywhere, knocking down more cans, tubes, and almost the canvas. But you had managed to save in it your colossal pile of mistakes. As you finally got your foot out after jerking it out the heavy can you had noticed a small smudge of red paint. Your heart beat quickened. You ruined it! You ruined all of Wally’s hard work, hours, seconds, and passion. You just ruined it!
Why are you like this? Well that’s obvious. You’re the town screw up. The pushover who always ruins everything. You sometimes avoid going anywhere for months because you’re too scared to ruin something else. For instance one time when you were just looking the ingredients you needed to bake a cake as an apology to Julie for accidentally giving her poisonous flowers. They had all of her favorite colors , but turns out hot pink can literally burn your eyes. You had knocked down two shelves after hitting your head on them. You didn’t know what to do or how to handle all the eyes on you so you ran. Just like with Julie after giving her the flowers you ran. Just like with Frank when you accidentally tore half a page in one of his books. Just like with everyone else you always ran away.
Just like right now as you ran away from an enraged Wally who had just came out of home. Frozen in shock taken back by his usual cheeky smile now gone and replaced with an annoyed look. So you rushed to your only sanctuary as always your house.
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You apologized as you ran back to your own house. You panted slamming the door as you knees curled into the floor of your home. You just wanted to look at someone’s painting and yet instead of being able to admire their work you ruined it just like every thing else. All except for one soul in this name uttered your name with a scowl. Well if they could and it was your pet cat Mr.Wiggles. He was an adorable spynx cat who you one day found out all alone in the rain in a battered up box. His red eyes may have made him look scary but you find them enduring from how much love he always showed once you were in the room. On days when you let him wander around with you to most he would look like your evil sidekick ,but to you he looked like a little angle just wanting to make friends. It’s almost like you were both on the same boat of being the outcasts of the group.
You sat on the cold floors as Mr. Wiggles came to your aid at the hurried slam of your front door. Meowing attentively as if he was trying to ask what was the matter. Seeing as you were once again crying once home. Curling beside you as he tried to comfort you.
“ Thanks buddy, but I don’t think we’ll be welcome here anymore.” You sniffled trying to hold back the rest of your tears.
“ I’m fine I just…screwed up…again!” Your voice cracked as the tears poured down once again while you trembled from each sob.
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This was outrageous! How and why do you always keep on doing this!? Tube after tube of his new paints were ruined. Even his brand new canvases he laid out behind his latest work. Everything ruined and covered in the new paints. Were you just trying to make everyone feel bad? Every time you came out of your lair you always ruined something. For instance with Julie you made her sick for a week with flower pox! You had tripped Eddie while he was out on his daily run to Franks house. Burnt Poppy’s cookies when she asked you to watch over them. Ripped a book of Franks favorite book sure it was Frank, but even he wouldn’t do that to that to him. You had made a huge hole in Sally’s now broken stage. You knocked down two displays in Howdy’s store and didn’t even try to help. The worst one was with your evil little cat. He had pounced onto Barnaby’s head.
And now you decided to ruin his work. That was the last straw. Chance after chance was given to you, but now it seems like you’re just testing your luck.
“ How does someone even manage to achieve all this in under 5 minutes!?” He frustrates at the ruined paints.
His cavas had a small smudge of red paint on it thankfully. Everything except his painting was mainly ruined. But just why do you do this? The first few times when you first came here everyone brushed it off as small accidents, but it was just a constant cycle of ruining things. So he had no choice, but to try and confront you. To see just why you kept doing this. And to give you a piece of his mind once and for all.
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As he greeted a few of his neighbors while he stomped over to your own home he eventually came to the dark and gloomy home of yours. Already giving him chills down his spine as he was about to knock on the door. But he soon had heard sobbing and continuous meows. Concerned he looked around to see where they were coming from and noticed one of your darkly colored windows opened still. He sneaked around the corner peeking through the cracked window.
“ I know I know! It’s just that whenever I make a mistake and try to help I just can’t stand trying to talk to anyone.” You cried.
“ I just want to be friends and make up for my mistakes, but every time I try I make a new one! I even ruined Wally’s beautiful painting and got Julie sick! I’m just a horrible person aren’t I?” You ranted to Mr. Wiggles.
“ It’s just like every other neighborhood I’ve gone to! Soon enough they’ll all start hating me and want me gone again.” You cried now uncontrollably sobbing.
He then felt pity for you as you cried out to your cat now holding him close. Just as he was about to try and comfort you he soon tripped over a stray thick vine in your almost dead garden.
“ Wha..What was that!?” You gasped startled as you slowly got up hurriedly seeing who had just yelped outside your open window.
“ Hello Neighbor!” Wally popped up from the outside of your window startling you.
“ H-Hi…I swear I didn’t mean to knock over your paints! I just…I swear it was an accident!” You sniffled.
“ I know. I didn’t mean to ease drop, but I heard everything you said. But I just wanted to say sorry to you. ” He chuckled trying to lighten up the mood even as your glazed eyes still threatened to draw tears again while you used to window as a fence between the two of you.
You shyed away from his gaze as you croaked out “ Why… I’ve done nothing, but ruin everything since I got here?”
“ Well we haven’t been the best of neighbors to you. I don’t even think I’ve even tried to get to know you.” He said as you rubbed your eyes trying not to cry again.
“So how about we give this another shot?” He asked extending his hand out for you with a comforting smile.
“ I’d like that a lot… Neighbor.” You smiled getting up from the barrier you of your window taking his hand.
Maybe things will be different this time.
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Thank you all so much for reading this all the way here! Hope you’re all doing well or that it gets better!
Sincerely-Cup1dT3A 💌
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phoenixlionme · 3 months
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youtube
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NOTE: In case anyone is wondering, I added the gif below the video because the video cut off the moment where Charlie pulls Vaggie closer and I wanted it in.
Now, I am going to ramble on in various bulllet points why I love this scene, from what I've notice and what other people have noticed in this reprise as well. Be prepared for a long post. And enjoy.
Vaggie's soft "Charlie?" when she sees her girlfriend upset. And Charlie being honest about her fears of losing instead of putting on a smile and brave face like she did earlier in the episode.
Vaggie's starting off the reprise by reminding Charlie of all the good she's done and all of the people she's helped by creating the Hotel.
When Vaggie starts singing, Charlie still has a forlorn expression on her face but immediately smiles when Vaggie touches her cheek; and unlike her big and implicitly forced smiles earlier in the episode, it's a small smile that shows she's still scared but deeply appreciates her girlfriend's comfort. And when Vaggie touches her cheek, Charlie goes to touch the former's wrist.
Vaggie grabbing Charlie's hand and guiding her from the dark to the light. Symbolism, anyone?
Possibly my favorite line from Vaggie in the song - "And in the end, if it's only me you saved" - Vaggie isn't a sinner but a fallen Exorcist Angel that Charlie found and rescued from near death; so, she doesn't need to be redeemed in a literal sense. But, here? Vaggie is telling Charlie that even if everything goes wrong, that even if they don't know that their plan to redeem Sinners will work, that whatever happens, Charlie must know ONE thing - the Princess saved the Soldier not only from death but also saved her soul. Vaggie was cast out by Lute and Adam for showing mercy but then rescued by the Princess of Hell who's all about mercy and forgiveness. Vaggie is telling Charlie that the latter helped her own redemption.
Charlie's smile going from a small, tired small to an even bigger, love-filled one. Vaggie's emotional comfort really helped calm Charlie's fears.
Another line from the couple that I really love, "There's something that I've been dying to say" - For the past 6 months, the duo have been under enormous stress from the upcoming 2nd extermination, helping to redeem Sinners, being mocked from all corners, and personal issues (i.e., Charlie hurt and angry over Vaggie's secrecy). It's been fast-paced and chaotic, so much they haven't been given a moment to really just be a couple. And the next day, they have to face off against Heaven's Army and might not make it. But in this quiet moment, Charlie and Vaggie are able to fully express their love for one another for the first time in a long time. No interruptions, no business, just them. And honestly, I LOVE the line so much.
Just the look of peace and vulnerability from Charlie when Vaggie gently strokes the former's hair and cheek. The Princess has been so stressed and scared but having the love of her life be by her is a truly calming presence.
The happy sighs they both make after they kiss.
Charlie pulling Vaggie closer while they are kissing.
Possible wedding foreshadowing. That's it. I predict marriage given how they are positioned. And I hope I am right.
They definitely had sex after this. I mean, you can hear them sigh happily once they kiss, Charlie pulls her closer, and they're going into battle the next day.
French version of the song translates, “More than anything” to “Tu es tout pour moi” which directly translates to “You are everything for me” or “You are my everything”.
Again in the French version, “Need you to know I love you more than anything” becomes “Je t’aime par-dessus tout et je ne veux que toi” which translates to “I love you above all and I only want you”.
In the Italian version, the line is translated to, "Whatever happens, just know that/You are my everything".
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dragonmurray · 1 year
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Poisoned Truth
Loki x female reader
Triggers - smut, 18+, mild angst
Description - hydra had poisoned the team with a love drug. What will you do when you’re the only one without a lover?
————
You were screwed. No two ways about it. Death was coming for you. The irony in that phrase.
A simple mission with the Avengers turned out to be a trap set by Hydra. Tony, Nat, Clint and you headed over to a warehouse thinking you would be collecting some valuable intel on the latest leader to step up in Hydra. It was too late when Tony detected the gas in the building, you were all infected.
The flight back in the jet was spent scanning, researching, testing everything possible to work out what they had poisoned you with, but 5 minutes in to the flight you were starting to realise.
Tony was desperate to get to Pepper, Nat to Bruce, and Clint to his wife. Desperate with need. Overwhelming, soul crushing need. From the little Tony could gather the Hydra drug would drive them to madness, boil them from the inside out unless they found their completion with the one they love.
Hydra were placing their bets on no Avenger being able to find true love. They would lose that bet, for the most part.
You however? Agent y/n l/n? You had no such love. Not that anyone knew anyway. You made it back to the tower, the others running to their loved ones for some life saving alone time. You slowly stumbled back to your room, a thin veil of sweat starting to cover your body. Alone.
You closed the door to your room and sank down to the floor. A weird kind of acceptance seeping in to your brain. So this is how it would end. Thwarted by the one enemy you could never defeat, love and orgasms. How poetic. You weren’t a virgin, you’d had your share of partners, but every one a disappointment. No man had ever taken the time to learn your body, to relish in your pleasure instead of their own. You’d never known pleasure from another.
An ache in your core starter and your mind drifted to the man you had dared to hope would have changed that. A secret hope he could never know of. He, a God, could never lower himself to the standards of a mortal. Sure you spent most of your free time together. Reading, playing tricks on each other to pass the time. You were one of the few to get him to open up and on some occasions, laugh. But he was also quick to tell you of his lineage, his power, his birthright.
You were just y/n. A basic mortal with some killer fighting skills. Nothing more.
A knock on your door had you jumping and groaning at the same time as the heat flared in your body.
“Agent?” Loki called “agent you need to let me in”
“Go away Loki, you can’t be near me. You can’t see this. It’s fine just go” you replied. Keeping your voice as flat as possible in the hope he wouldn’t care enough to stay.
“We both know that’s not true. I’ve seen, and heard the other return. I know something is very wrong now let me in” Loki sounded aggravated. So he wanted to know what happened, good for him, he can read about it later you thought.
Shivers were starting to run down your spine. His proximity not helping your situation. You may not be ready to admit your feelings for the god, but clearly your body knew. It was getting harder to form coherent thoughts so you didn’t bother to respond to him. Resting your head back on the door you closed your eyes as pain started to deep in to your limbs.
“Agent!” An urgent voice right in front of you. You open your eyes to see Loki knelt in front of you, his eyes taking in the sight of you. Dazed, hot, your breathing increased.
“How, how are you here Loki?” Tony restricted his magic in the compound while he earned his place in society.
“My dear y/n. If you think there is anywhere in the nine realms I couldn’t reach to get to you, you are so very mistaken” he reached a hand forward to cup your face.
“NO!” You shot up and tried to back across your room, anywhere to get some distance from him. His proximity was sending your body into overdrive. Your mind couldn’t comprehend his words. Was this the drug? Making you see and hear things? “Loki you can’t be here. The mission went wrong. Hydra, drugged us. It’s bad. I can’t… you can’t…” your eyes fluttered and your legs faltered as a wave of heat came from your core.
In a second Loki was beside you, catching you as you fell. You cried out as his body made contact with yours. Part pain, part desperate need. Loki couldn’t wait any longer, his palm touched your forehead and he dove in to your memories. A sigh escaped him as he realised why you were trying to escape him.
“Y/n, I am here. You have nothing to fear. It would be my honour to stay with you, foolish mortal” a smile tugged his lips “I will not stop until you are cured, and I can’t guarantee I will after that either”
Your eyes fluttered open as you tried to take in his words. “I…” that was all he allowed before his lips crashed in to yours. I’m an instant heat burned through you with the power of a thousand suns. No pain, just need and fulfilment. This is what you needed. He is what you needed.
A moan escaped your lips as fingers caress your scalp, tugging your head to align you more perfectly with his mouth. His sinful, achingly beautiful mouth. You could come apart right now. A tiny voice in the back of your barely functioning mind started to whisper dark thoughts, telling you this wouldn’t work. No one else has managed to pleasure you fully, you’re broken.
Loki couldn’t sense your hesitation. He needed to silence it. After months of yearning, never daring to risk their treasured friendship, he finally had you. Upon seeing the state of the other avengers on their return he knew he had to find you. He couldn’t lose you.
His mouth left yours and blazed a trail down your neck, stopping to nip and suck at your pulse point, pulling a ragged moan from your throat and silencing all voices in your head. Your fingers dove in to his hair and pulled him closer. Still half collapsed in to each other on the floor he picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and ground in to him as moans spilled from your lips. Loki intended to lay you on the bed but it was too much for him. He slammed you in to the wall, teeth latching on to your neck as his hand found your hardened nipple beneath your suit and rolled it between his thumb and finger.
You cried out, core tightening as you felt yourself close to cumming already. Gods how you wanted him, needed him. You had never felt like this before. He groaned as his hips rocked in to you. “Gods y/n, you feel perfect against me. I need to touch every part of you, taste all of you” with a wave of his hand your clothes melted from your body. “Perfection” he said as he looked down at you, still wrapped round his waist. Your head back and eyes closed in pure bliss. The pink tint to your skin brought him back to reality, he needed to save you.
His hands gripped you tightly as he spun round and placed you on the edge of the bed. With no time to think about your new position he dove between your thighs, mouth latching on to your clit and sucking hard. The force of it slammed in to your nerves and had you screaming out, back arched in pure pleasure. You had never felt anything close to this before, even from your own hands. His attack on your clit didn’t let up as he slid 2 fingers into your pussy, curling to find your spot and pumping relentlessly. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breath, not enough air in your lungs to even scream out as an orgasm ripped through your body with enough force to bend your backwards.
When you finally came down you gasped for air. Your foggy brain trying to work out what happened, how it happened. Blinking back to reality you looked down at Loki still sat between your legs looking at you with awe in his eyes.
“How… how did you do that? Is it the drug?” You asked.
He looked at you confused. “I’m unsure what you mean Y/n. Has no one done this to you before?”.
You shook your head. “Not like that, no one’s ever made me cum Loki” you looked away and started to try to cover yourself from embarrassment. He took your hands to stop you. As he did another wave of heat started to build, the drug wasn’t done with you yet. You whimpered and Loki realised your pain.
“Mortal men cannot comprehend the goddess that you are Agent. It seems you have been waiting for me for far too long…”. He climbed up your body, his hand sliding into your hair and…..
And I’m a really mean writer! Do I carry on?!
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ellievickstar · 1 year
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Nobody’s Choice
A/N: I am so sorry I ended part 2 in a cliffhanger…it was cruel…and…rude. I hope that this beautiful fic will…make up for my…wrong doings <3
Summary: When then mating bond finally snaps into place, what are you meant to do when you realise your mate has another in his heart, will you break it off to save yourself, or will your mate be able to save this heartbreak?
Request: N/A but highly anticipated.
Pairing: Azriel x Witch!Reader
Warnings: breaking of mating bond, talking to ancestors, major angst, cliffhanger, self-doubt.
My Masterlists & Rules
Part 1 — His Second Choice? // Part 2 — Your Choice.
~*~*~*~*~
"Azriel...I-" But something made you pause. You knew there was no way Azriel could be with you forever. You had seen the lingering glances he had given Elain. You couldn't deny that they shared a connection that you both didn't have...not anymore. However, Azriel was also a male of honour. If you wished it, he would never see Elain again, but how could you do that to him. He will eventually resent you for it, maybe not of his own accord, but with time. You couldn't rip away his will, but you couldn't give him what he wanted in this moment right now. Eventually he would realise that though you were mates, his heart belonged else where.
You looked down at the male again. And as you weighed your options carefully, you knew what you had to say, what you needed him to believe.
"Okay," You plastered a smile on your face, and in a split second you let a piece of happiness in all this sorrow slip down the bridge of the bond and slam into his side. It was enough for him to beam up at you, to sweep you into his arms as he celebrated. If only he knew that inside, you couldn't enjoy this moment with him. He thanked you, his eyes bright, and without a word he instructed you to get ready quickly, because he wanted to give you the best night you had ever experienced. Nodding, you shooed him away.
As soon as he was out of your sight, gone to prepare what he planned, you fell to you knees. Maybe, you could lie to yourself, but the second you awoke you could feel that spark of desire from his side of the bond, maybe it was so small that even he didn't know it was there, but it only takes so much for a spark to become a flame and a flame to become wildfire.
You had to let go of him, you had to break it. Break this damn bond that shackled you to him, break it, and return home. Ever since the war you itched to return to your own people, but stayed in Velaris because you had hoped that Azriel would choose you. It was naive and a ridiculous notion.
You remembered what you had said to your ancestor. You remembered her eyes when you asked that question. How do you break the bond? She had looked at you, sad and sombre. You knew you weren't the first witch to be soulmates with a Fae, and you wouldn't be the last to break the bridge between two souls.
You closed you eyes and with a wave of your hand, who you summoned, appeared. You opened your eyes and came face to face with none other then the suriel. It bent down to meet your eyes, and as you stood tall, folding your hands in front of you skirts, its eyes widened in recognition. "Princess-" "Queen. My mother died. But you already knew that," The Suriel was silent but nodded it's head, waiting for orders.
"I need you to tell me how to break a mating bond," Hearing that, The Suriel paused. It didn't want to tell you, after all, The Suriels prioritised their friend's wellbeing first. You had become friends with The Suriel species when you were eight, they were your friends along side you, and they were very protective. However, this was a question that you needed the answer to.
"A ritual, you can find it in your mother's library, but be careful little one, many have suffered dire consequences," The ominous warning sent chills down your spine, and you nodded. You weaved anew cloak from thin air and handed it to The Suriel, before it bowed and left. You sensed there was worry in its eyes, however, you couldn't care enough. You needed to do this.
With a wave of a hand and a flash of light, you looked around as your surroundings melted away and became something else entirely.
Home.
~*~*~*~*~
The walls were the same. So was the lighting. But the bookshelves were dusty, the table worn and on the verge of breaking, what once full of life, was now abandoned. Before the first war you had lived here, but after your people had abandoned this place, the knowledge with it. And now you needed one piece of information in the whole library.
As you scanned the endless stacks of scrolls and books upon books, stuffed onto shelves that looked like they were going to collapse under the weight of the books, you realised that you should have asked The Suriel specifically which book you needed to get. It would take forever to go through your mother's private library.
Cracking your knuckles and gritting your teeth, you approached the first shelf. This would take a while. But, it would be worth it.
The first hour went by with no luck.
The second hour you felt Azriel reach down the bond, you gently told him that you had plans and couldn't join him.
The third hour you finally found it.
"Oh for wickedness sake, it was here the whole time!?" You hissed as you realised that the spell you were looking for...was in your mother's old diary. Of course. You should have looked there first. Part of you wanted to throw the damn book across the room with how much time it took to find it. However, you calmed yourself. Now all you needed to do is get your hands on some damn salt...and a knife.
You conducted a few practice rituals to ensure that your magic was ready for the advanced spells, the sky had already darkened by the time you were ready to journey home. The journey back home was, tiring, after a full day of searching and rituals, you weren't exactly primed for spell-casting, especially not transportation spells. Then again, if you didn’t return, the night court would suspect you. So you prepared yourself for the exhaustion that would hit you the second you arrived.
But nothing would have prepared you for what greeted you the second you arrived.
Rhysand and Cassian were there…waiting. Their eyes were fuelled with anger as they stepped towards you.
“Where have you been?” Rhys demanded. Cassian stayed silent as his gaze stayed on you, surveying you for possible injuries. You fidgeted as you tried to take a stp back but you were stopped by two people behind you. Mor and Nesta.
“I was just…running errands.” “Don’t lie to me,” Rhys snapped. Your eyes shuttered. You looked down and cursed as tears began to stream down your face uncontrollably. Everything you had been keeping inside came down in waves, one after another.
Gentle hands guided you to sit as your friends surrounded you. “You can finally take control of all this, why do you hurt yourself?” Rhys prompted. You shook your head. No. There was no control in this situation. “I don’t want control, I want to let go,” You choked out, crying into the front of Mor’s dress. Nesta pulled back your hair and brushed through it, the action soothing your slightly. Rhys swore as he realised how miserable you truly were. Cassian was furious.
“I’m gonna kill Azriel,” He mumbled, but you stopped him. “No! It’s not his fault…besides, not all mates are meant to be,” You didn’t know whether you were convincing them or yourself. You only knew that you couldn’t tell them your plan. You were so…tired…
“I’m just gonna go to bed…can we do this tomorrow?” You asked. They all exchanged looks, but eventually, you were helped to your room, and it wasn’t long before you finally fell asleep.
~*~*~*~*~
“You are a child…remember…you are the descendent of the greatest kind in all on Prythian…you are their queen,” You looked away from your ancestor as you kneeled before her. “My heart tells me to stay, my head tells me to break it,” The Queen smiled as she looked down at you. It was a kind smile. Like no other, it was pure, and genuine and something in you warmed at that familial love that you missed so much. “And what of your gut?” You went silent as you looked down.
“I’m not sure…” You fidgeted again. “You know the consequences of breaking the bond, yes?” You nodded. Most witches died because of the absolute pain they went through. The only witches who could survive were those of the strongest blood. Azriel would feel the unbearable pain too but his chances of dying were slim as he was mated to a witch not a fae.
“What about your mate?” You asked her. Her face fell as her eyes seemed to flicker to hurt, sorrow. “He was a faerie…like yours…but different. He had beautiful red hair that fell to his shoulders and he could manipulate flame. I loved him…it was us against the world,” Tears seemed to fill her eyes. “We fought to be together and eventually, we were. I thought we were happy, I had four beautiful children, one was a true witch while two were fae and witch, the last on was a fae. It was two girls and two boys. We were a family..” She closed her eyes, a stray tear falling down her face.
“On day I came home early from the market with the children…and there he was. With his mistress. The fae female that his father had wanted him to marry when we first got together,” Her tone was bitter and your heart broke for your ancestor. “I left him…never heard from him again. But I do know that he ended up marrying that whore and having their own children.” She seemed to straighten. “I don’t believe that all fae males are that way…but you must understand. Just because he is you mate. Does not mean his heart will stay with you. Because we are not like them, we are witches, and for millenia we have been hunted and hated,” You nodded your understanding.
You had to remember. A comet could become a meteor. A candle could become a blaze. A male can be a monster. But when, does a ripple become a tidal wave? when does the reason become the blame? does a male become a monster?
She waved to you, dismissal as your vision of you surroundings began to darken. You were ready.
~*~*~*~*~
Dragging yourself out of bed at 3 in the morning was far from easy. But you needed to sneak out before anyone else was awake. You listened carefully to the house around you, keeping an ear open for footsteps or careful calculated breathing instead of the shallow breaths of deep sleep.
You were in the clear.
Silently, you waved a hand in the air as you summoned the portal to your home realm. It was time for you to finally...finally execute this plan. Humming, you smiled as you realised you'd finally be free. Yet something weighed down something made you want of pause and think of what could be. But as you looked into your memories, those thoughts, his heart, tears filled your eyes and you looked at your palms.
You didn’t understand. Was she prettier then you? Was it because she liked flowers not books, liked gentleness more then confidence? Was it because she was brighter? Softer on the inside? Or was it because she was still naive to the darkness of the world?
Why?
Why would the cauldron give you a mate that loved another?
That you did not know. But you sure as hell would do something about it. You drag your ass out of this bed and perform that damned spell, you would break this cursed bond then you would go home. To the people you hid so long ago. And you would rule with compassion and love. You would find peace in this chaos, find light in this dark.
A wave of your hand, an inhale and exhale. You closed your eyes for a second as you felt your surroundings shift and change, you held the book that you had grabbed tight to your chest and as you pealed you eyes open you knew exactly where you were.
The library might have restricted people from winnowing in, but faeries didn’t know how to ward of witch spells. You sifted through the pages, carefully, afraid that the book would fall apart in your hands, terrified that if you even blinked your plan would disintegrate before your very eyes.
You had to finish this.
A bag materialised from the air as you pulled out bright red sand. It was unique to your kind, specially made for rituels. This was no ordinary coloured sand. To your knowledge, specially taught witched had bathed this sand in powerful spell potions, they could be manipulated to follow any shape, as long as it was right. The sand would be able to activate the ritual, to break the bond.
You smiled as you reminisced over the lessons that you had learnt such information from, when your mother was still alive to chase you around the palace if just to make you sit down and listen for five minutes. Now, you would give anything to sit with her, to listen to her careful warnings, the soft lilt of her voice, or the firmness she held as she tried to dissuade you from doing anything mischievous. But that was a long time ago, and…she was long gone.
Your heart cracked.
You blinked back more tears as you finished pouring the last line of the symbol. It was a large circle that had symbols tracing the inside, slowly spiralling to the middle. It was very old language that loosely translated to ‘breaking mates’.
Taking a deep breath, you stepped in and as you dropped a strand of Azriel’s hair in the centre, one that you had picked up from his brush, light flashed. It was bright and it was hot, you flinched closing your eyes.
And screamed.
~*~*~*~*~
It was unbearable, the pain. It was endless, it was torture, it was everything and nothing all at the same time. You screamed louder, screamed even as your throat was dry and hurt like hell. You screamed as the pain seemed to stab you over and over again. Screamed as you fell to your knees, barely being able to handle the torture that was punishment for breaking a fated bond.
Azriel’s POV
My eyes flew open as pain began to grew in my chest. It burnt, burnt like the fire that had lit my hands up all those years ago, it speared my soul and I watched in horror as a thread seemed to be materialising from my chest, it was going somewhere.
I barely managed to stand as I stumbled through the door, hand gripping onto that thread, some part of me knew, something was wrong with Y/N.
I made it to Cassian’s room, pounding on the door even as the pain seemed to rip me apart. He opened the door after a few minutes, his eyes heavy from sleep, and I saw Nesta behind him, annoyed. But as they saw me in my state of distress, saw the bond that had somehow shown itself clear as day, they immediately jumped, Cassian rushing to support me, Nesta running to where ever the thread was leading to.
“The library! Hurry!” She hollered back at us. Cassian let me lean against him, we seemed to have woken the whole house as I heard Nyx begin to cry from all the commotion. Rhys winnowed in front of us, if looks could kill we would both be dead, but his demeanour shifted, rushing to help Cassian with my other side. Cassian grunted out the location and Rhys nodded. However, nothing in all 500 years of training could have prepared us for what we would see.
When we entered the library, my knees were ready to give out, I watched, terrified, and my gaze was hazy as I looked to see Y/N, in the middle of a spell. It had to be. I recognised the sand from the times she had been talking about her abilities. But what was she doing. My head pounded and as I read the old language that Amren had taught me, my heart dropped.
I reached out, wanting to hold on to that bond, but as Y/N looked at me, after what seemed like an eternity, through that blinding light, blood dripped down her nose.
Drip.
Drip..
Drip…
And the pain stopped as I collapsed, screaming being the last thing I hear as darkness consumed me.
~*~*~*~*~
taglist: @azriels-mate123 @penguinsworldsblog @hannahx1111 @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @positivewitch @happyseadreams @fuckthatfeeling @meritxellao @xiangping-28 @clarkie-carmody-blog @aroseinvelaris @azrielhours @shadowsinger-654 @azzydaddy @nisa-wisa @cosmic-whispers @cat-or-kitten @thecraziestcrayon @thegirlintheshadows101 @marina468 @act1839 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @holywolfsstuff @gengen64
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A/N: HAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAH HOW YA LIKE ME NOW!? I love you guys…but you really didn’t think I wouldn’t end part 3 in a cliff hanger? After part 2!? Think again :D Love you guys, thanks for all the support <33333
Part 3 out now
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am-i-interrupting · 2 months
Note
Okay I don’t know if you are accepting requests or suggestions but can I ask for a one shot or something of like what happens between Vox and reader from the one author, two host series when alastor returns. Like what would happen and I feel like Vox would be FOMING at the mouth from anger because he knows how much pain it caused reader and all doesn’t even tell them where he was
Went Away | OATSH
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Vox had long since regretted saving Valentino’s pathetic little soul. He could have and should have found someone else to be the head of the porn industry. Unfortunately, with the deal they’d made, Vox couldn’t harm the man unless he broke the confines of their contract. Valentino toed the line, most certainly, but he hadn’t yet broken it.
Velvette was complaining about one of her models being scared shitless by Valentino and having some of her work torn up but no harm had actually come to any of them. That was always the thing, always the line he just barely stayed in.
He couldn’t hurt anyone without justifiable cause. That is what was in his contract. He could scare, he could manipulate, he could yell, but he couldn’t hurt.
Vox walked into Valentino’s office.
“Fucking finally!” the man yelled. “Kitty, another drink! Can you believe what that piece of shit did?! The ungrateful whore!”
Vox side stepped the glass that had been thrown his way. “Which whore are we talking about this time?”
“Fucking Angel Dust, who the hell else would I be talking about?”
Vox leaned away from Valentino as the man breached his space. Many answers to that question raced into his mind. Too many sex workers, too many models, too many people on the street, himself, once you. Only once had Valentino called you a whore. Never again.
“That fucking slut walked out on me. Me. I made him! Without me he’s just a bag of meat with some mildly entertaining holes.”
Vox had gotten out his phone while Valentino went on his rampage. He felt himself relax just a bit, a small smile coming to his lips as he saw a message from you.
Sorry about leaving early this morning. Star called. Stuff came up. Fixing some roofing. Hate this time of year.
His soft smile though changed from soft to hopeful.
“Angel Dust quit?” he asked.
He was hoping for a yes. You’d be so ecstatic if he finally was able to quit. That was another reason for him to hate the fact that he saved Valentino; the fact that Valentino had a contract neither of you knew about beforehand and under Angel’s contract, he could do whatever he wanted and it would be seen as justifiable.
“No, he didn’t fucking quit. It’s worse.” Valentino grabbed Vox’s phone from his hand and threw it against the wall. “He moved!”
Vox hadn’t even been able to text you back.
“He thinks he can just walk in here, work, and then go home somewhere else? Can you fucking believe that? He thinks he can just run off and shack up with Lucifer’s bimbo daughter.”
“Angel is living with Lucifer’s daughter now?”
You’d be happy to know about that at least.
“Yeah, that bitch. Chalky or Chandler or something manish like that,” he said as he opened up his closet. “She’s got this hotel and— which of these makes me look sexier?”
Anyone else. He would have let the man go in a rampage, break their contract, and discard him if it was anyone but her. Had it been anyone else other than Lucifer’s daughter, Vox would have let him.
“What are you doing, Val?” he asked, venom entering his voice before his eye began to spiral. “You’re not going over there.”
“That slippery twink is going to remember who owns him. I’m going to fuck everyone in that rancid hotel, I swear to god,” Valentino continued, ignoring him.
Vox scowled to himself before he grabbed Valentino’s wings and pulled him close, his face brightening so the man could actually see him.
“Val!” He laughed before he smoothed his wings back into their coat-like shape. “Think about it. My brand is perfection. What do you think chasing whores around town would do for my image?” He grabbed the gun from Valentino’s hand.
“Uh, fuck it up?”
Vox played a game show ringing as he said, “Right! Do you want people thinking I can’t control my employees and that you can’t control yours?”
“No.”
“Exactly! And, hey—“ Vox knew you would hate what he said next— “you still have him under contract. He’s not going anywhere. So, you should. . .?”
“Do nothing?”
“Great idea!” Vox pulled Valentino down into to put his arm around his shoulders as more game show sound effects played. “Now that’s why I pay you the big bucks.”
“But I really wanted to shoot someone,” Valentino said as he pulled out his cigarette. “You never let me have any fun anymore.”
Vox lit the cigarette with the tip of his claw. “Well, let me pull out my wife’s hit list. Let you have a go at some of them, hmm?”
“Aw,” Valentino said with a chuckle, “you know me too well.”
Of course Vox did. He had to. The man was practically a child most days. He constantly questioned how he could have been so stupid as to have let him live. Regardless, it was a choice he now had to live his second life with.
He twisted his wedding ring with his thumb as he summoned a new phone.
Don’t worry about it. Turf wars are always a hassle. I get it and know by now you’re always busy this time of year. We all are. When you get a sec, can you send me some people on your list? Valentino’s being a piss baby again, as Vel so eloquently put it.
“You know, Angel isn’t the only one spending time at this ratty hotel with the devil’s princesa,” Valentino said after taking a draw of his cigarette.
When is he not?
“Oh, who else is there?” Vox asked as he opened the document you’d sent him. “Someone who owes you money?”
Valentino laughed once again. “Someone who owes us much more than money. The Radio Demon is there.”
Vox collapsed on himself as he tensed. His claws dug through the metal of the desk, breaking his phone as he did so. His entire body sparked with electricity.
“What did you just say?” he asked, his voice coming out distorted as he turned to Valentino, his eye spiraling as red pixels began spilling from his mouth.
“You heard me.”
Oh, he was going to kill Valentino, contract be damned.
“Alastor, my wife’s father—“ he glitched— “is back and he is with Lucifer’s daughter instead of his own—“ he glitched again— “and that wasn’t the first fucking thing you told me?!” he pulled Valentino down to his height as sparks flew off his body and his voice raised to a yell.
“Hey, Alastor missing is your problem,” Valentino said as he walked to the computer desk and pressed a button.
A distorted feed came up on the screen. Vox immediately teleported to the desk, leaning as close as he could to make out every detail of the scene.
He could make out the blonde hair of Lucifer’s daughter, the white fur of Angel Dust, and the extra distorted figure that Vox knew from previous videotapes to be Alastor.
He snarled, a full growl come from his mouth. His claws dug all the way through the desk. His breathing started to quicken.
Vaguely, in his subconscious mind, he registered an anger at a different thing. Alastor was torturing someone and he hadn’t told you? He hadn’t invited you? He always had before.
He didn’t even register Valentino’s words. He didn’t find any amusement in the squeaks that came from the man like he normally would. All he could focus on was Alastor walking away from the hotel.
“Vox? Vox!” Valentino called out, finally breaking him from his trance.
“That fucker is back!”
“Yeah, I thought he was gone for good tooAfter seven years!”
“You still pissed he almost beat you that time?” Valentino grabbed the corner of Vox’s screen. Vox pushed him off, still sparking. “Ow!”
“Fuck off!”
Vox’s breath started coming out harshly as he began to spiral.
How was he going to tell you? How dare Alastor? Oh, sure, Vox was the problem. He was trying to steal you from Alastor when it was Alastor who left you for seven years without a word, not even telling you goodbye or where he was going or when he came back.
He hadn’t been there. Did he not know what pain he caused you? The worry, the tears, the depression. You had been a mess those first couple months. Did he not think you would be effected by his sudden disappearance? Was he really, truly that stupid?
“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re really this peeved?” Valentino said.
Vox ignored him as he walked out of the room to his own office.
Valentino pouted as he watched the door close. Then he went to pick up Vox’s phone to look at that list only to see the screen cracked and back scratched.
“Fuuuck!” he said as he threw his head back. He picked up his gun that had been left behind as well and shot a hole through the wall.
Vox pulled up your vitals on his screen. You knew he had them. He monitored them as well as your location through the ring on your finger and you had access to his own through the same.
There was a stark difference in how often the two of you looked at them though. Yours got pulled up multiple times a day while his only got pulled up a few times every couple months.
That was alright though. You knew he could be possessive but more than that, you knew how often he worried.
He quickly found and quickly sent a dispatch of construction workers that way before he went there himself.
You didn’t even flinch when he knelt behind you and draped himself over his back. After so many decades, it’d become second nature to know when the other was around. What did concern you was how tightly he held you.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, voice ever so slightly distorted with some filter. “Alone.”
You turned, unafraid of falling off the roof in his grasp. You held his screen between your hands. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t even have time to blink before you were in the tower with him.
“You said that Hustler came to see you the other day, right?”
“Husk, but yes,” you said. “Is everything okay? Is he alright?”
“Did you ask him why?” Vox asked.
“I— Yes, it was that advertisement. I didn’t have time to look it over. I just gave it to your assistant,” you told him. “He didn’t give me porn or something, did he? That doesn’t sound like him but he said he lost a game, had to be the one to bring it to me.”
“So you didn’t watch the commercial? Neither did I. How about we watch it together, hm?”
“Okay,” you said, the word coming out slowly, hesitantly.
You didn’t sit as he didn’t either. The television just came on.
“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” a woman you vaguely recognized said.
She had white hair done in Hollywood waves that contrasted her grey skin. She wore dress that was somewhat reminiscent of a 50s dress and a large hat with floral elements. Across thAngel Dust in a pink and white suit, wearing pink gloves that he used to blow a kiss to the camera. In front of him was Niffty in a classic flapper dress. Then Husk drinking beside her.
None of that is what caught your attention however. What did was the distorted person beside Husk, back turned to the camera but you recognized him.
Immediately your eyes widened as your nose and eyes began to sting. You bit your lip to contain a scream as your breath began to quicken.
You had mourned him.
You mourned him! You’d done it once in life and now once in death and for what?! Why did you have to mourn him when he was right there?! He was there!
You took off your shoe and threw it at the television. Then did the same with the other. The screen broke, cracked. The TV fell to the floor.
“That bastard!” you yelled. “Fucking shit ass!”
You screamed so loud that is caused Vox to wince but still he wrapped his arms around you. You collapsed against him and banged on his chest. Not enough to hurt him but enough to get out your frustration. He just pulled you closer.
Vark stood in the doorway, looking at Vox. His tail was drooped and he was hunched down. Vox slowly lowered you both to the ground and gestured for Vark to come.
He did. He butted his head against your back. He kept his head against your skin as he moved between the two of you. On instinct, you put your hand between Vark’s eyes and Vox put his right at the base of his spines. Vark moved and licked your face. You didn’t smile like you normally would.
“What do you want me to do?” Vox asked.
You stayed silent for a moment, hand moving back and forth on Vox’s simultaneously rough and smooth skin. Then, “Make him wish he’d stayed gone.”
You stood and went to your wardrobe. Vox followed as you threw a more official outfit on the bed. Then you went to the bathroom and fixed your makeup or rather, tried to. Your hands shook to much for you to do it properly.
Vox picked up your phone and sent a message to Velvette.
Get your ass here now. -V
He didn’t know how to apply makeup but after years of living with two people who did, he at least learned how to take it off.
When Velvette arrived, it was no secret. “What the hell happened here? What the fuck’s going on?”
“The Radio Demon’s back,” Vox said.
“Oh, well, shit,” she said. “Alright then, move aside, Voxy. I’m gonna give our gal some revenge makeup and you go make a script for you stupid show.”
“Top of the hour,” Vox said as he spun in his chair to face the camera, “and we’re discussing a certain hazbin who has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence. Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight’s program!”
The headline read, “Dud Dad Back From Getting Milk”
Across the screen, “So the radio guy’s back. I don’t think you noticed. I didn’t at first- I was too busy being present in my wife’s life but fuck it, news is slow today, I guess. I just want to go home to see my beautiful wife and tell her about where I’ve been even though she knows where I am because I tell her about my plans before fucking off.”
“Fucking hell!” Husk yelled, catching the attention of everyone in the hotel.
“Aw, after so many years I can still startle you? How cute,” you said as you leaned your head on your hand with a smirk that immediately made him uneasy.
You were wearing a black cropped turtle neck with a pair of slightly baggy jeans, an oversized jacket that clearly was not yours with its light and dark blue stripes and pinkish-red interior. Your legs were crossed and revealed your heeled black boots. Your hair was down in loose, natural curls but your makeup was anything but with a dark smokey eye and dark nude lipstick.
“Oh, he fucked up,” Husk said as he grabbed a bottle and moved out from behind the bar.
“Um, okay,” the princess said. “Hi, I’m Charlie and you are?”
“Not here for you,” you said as you moved to take Husk’s place behind the bar.
“And who are you here for?” Charlie asked.
The television flickering on gave you no reason to answer her. Instead you mixed a cocktail as all eyes turned to the TV screen.
“So, the Radio Demon is back in town,” Vox said on the screen. “Why’s he hanging around? What does that mean for your family? Well, handily I’ve got good news. The guy’s a loser, an absent and I don’t mean to sound arrogant but he’s a really shitty parent. That one’s real apparent.
“He used to go on and on about how I’d be the one gone yet he’s the one who said so long. I’m right here, never fear. I plan on staying even when raining. I’m not afraid of things changing. So if you can’t update, maybe relocate. Go on a va-cay and stay the fuck away.
“He clung onto radio, we pivoted to video. Now his medium has gotten bloody rare. We’ve been better since he split. Where’s he been? Who gives a shit!”
The radio crackled to life. “Salutations, good to be back on the air.”
You took a long sip of your cocktail as you heard his voice for the first time in seven years. The glass nearly cracked in your hands.
“Yes, I know it’s been a while since someone with style has treated Hell to a broadcast. Sinners, rejoice!”
“What a dated voice.”
“Instead of a clout-chasin' mediocre video podcast.”
“Come on!”
“Is Vox insecure? Pursuing allure. Going for small blows towards the pros, is it really working?”
“It’s better than your chirping!”
“Every day, he's got a new insult while still thinking everything wrong is his fault.”
“You’re looking at the one who stayed! He’s the one who went away!”
“Is Vox as strong as he purports or is it based on his support? He'd be powerless without that pretty ring.”
“Oh, tell us a new thing!”
“Fine, let’s try something new. I know things you haven’t been through. Nothing you say has any sway. I’ve always been here, never on va-cay. I’m still in charge. Always been here on the charts. So if you’ve got something to say, go ahead then go away. I haven’t got all day.”
“You were gone far too long. She mourned and now she’s scorned. Wished you’d never been born. So why don’t you follow through with this amazing news and tell us what you’ve been through. Better hurry or just scurry ‘cause this picture’s getting blurry. Buffering from our furry. Go ahead and have your say or go away like seven years ago that day.”
The radio clicked off.
Vox stayed panting for a moment, hands gripping the desk tightly. Then his breathing slowed and he sat back down. He restacked his papers.
“Guess he didn’t have much to say so he’s gone and went away. Nothing new. It’s old news. He’s gone once again so soon.”
The television flickered off.
Husk sunk into the couch. Niffty looked over to you with her wide eye. Angel looked down at your ring and then back at you like he was seeing you for the first time. Charlie still stood where she’d been when she came to greet you but she now rung her fingers together.
“Well, I suppose not all broadcasts are a success,” Alastor’s voice said as he came downstairs. “Regardless,” he clapped his hands together then he saw you. “My dear! There you are.”
You simply glared at him as you took a sip of your cocktail.
“Where is that darling smile of yours? You know you’re—“
“Where did you go?”
“Oh, what does that matter? I’m back now, aren’t I?” he said.
“You’re such a,” your voice trailed off as you looked down at your drink. “I cried for you.”
You thought back to late nights as a child where your father held you, whispering about his childhood in the vaguest of ways, making promises to never do you the same way.
“You promised I’d never have to do that,” you said. “You promised me the only reason I’d ever cry for you would be when you died. You’re not dead.”
“You know that my intention would never be to—“
“That doesn’t matter, Alastor!” you said.
His ears actually flicked back. You’d never done that before. You had never called him by his name.
A small part of you as happy with getting a hurt reaction from him.
You threw the glass at him. He didn’t side step it. It hit his newly tailored coat, glass breaking and liquid staining it. He didn’t even flinch.
“Fuck you, Alastor! Fuck you,” you said as you walked out of the hotel, slamming the door.
“I appear to have done something wrong,” Alastor said as he brushed the glass off his clothing, holding back a wince as his hand moved some caught in his skin.
“You think?” Husk said.
Alastor stared at where you had been before he spun around and went back upstairs.
“I’ve never seen her that angry before,” Niffty said softly.
“Yeah, me neither.”
100 notes · View notes
godisshook · 9 months
Text
Enemies with Benefits
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Ryder is the absolute worst.
We had once been inseparable. High school sweethearts, we navigated the tumultuous waters of adolescence together, supporting each other through thick and thin. Our breakup was a result of years of me fighting for feelings that he stopped reciprocating. The final straw came when I found out he had cheated on me in my freshman year of college. I decided then and there to end things and refused to speak to him for the rest of the year.
There was just one issue with all of this: we lived together. We went to the same college, and so made the "great" decision to live together our first year. Even worse, I had renewed my lease with him shortly before I caught on to his cheating, meaning I had to live with him for another year. After the breakup, the living room became Ryder's new home, and I dreaded going in there. Ryder wanted to ensure I was miserable, so he always left the house a mess. I resented him for it, with only the thought of me getting to move as far away as possible from him helping me get through the days. For months, we had ignored each other, refusing to acknowledge the painful history we shared. The air in our one-bedroom apartment was thick with tension, and I sought to avoid him at every turn.
With summer rolling around, I stayed in the apartment, not having much to do back at home. My saving grace came as Ryder said he would be on vacation, and wouldn't return until summer ended. At least I would have a small reprieve from his presence, and most importantly, I was able to claim the bedroom back. I enjoyed my months of peace as if they were my last, taking advantage of the peace and quiet to get work done and deep clean the entire apartment. The days flew by as I enjoyed both time by myself and with friends. The cooling summer air would serve as a reminder that the fun would soon be over. With Ryder arriving tomorrow, I decided to have one last party, taking special care to make sure my partygoers messed up Ryder's stuff specifically, getting some revenge on the way. Satisfied with the mess I had caused, I escorted my guests out for the night, and slept well, enjoying my final day of relaxation.
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The sound of keys jangling at the door woke me, as the immediate realization of what those keys meant crushed me. With the sound of bags and shuffling now getting louder and louder, I decided to simply remain in the room, refusing to speak. As he finally reached the bedroom, a series of light knocks would hit the door. With it swooshing open, Ryder said, “Oh, how I’ve missed you,” laying down his backpack. "I really wish I could say the same." I immediately replied, a stoic look on my face. As he goes in for a hug, I shuffle to the other side of the bed and say "You're letting the light in." It was clear he was not anticipating that response, but as he gathered himself, he replied, "I really do miss you." His thumb grazed the curve of my cheek, caressing it gently, his touch both tender and possessive. In response, I let out a soft, breathless moan, showing my weakness.
In my defense, it was a moment of vulnerability, and we had hooked up now and then. Even though we weren't on speaking terms, it was impossible to resist that body of his, and so we would occasionally do it. However, it was only a few times, that I can promise.
While I didn't believe his words for a second, I couldn't help but notice how different he looked. I didn't anticipate his changing demeanor, but this new Ryder gave me a strange hope. A guy whom I had always regarded as a slob was now well-kept and dressed. I still hated him from the depths of my soul for what he did to me, but I was far more willing to be amicable with him if he was choosing to be better. Living together had its challenges, but it also brought back memories of our shared history. We had both grown since their breakup, pursuing our own lives. But beneath the surface, a lingering connection remained.
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Late one night, Ryder would return home from work in an obviously bad mood. I was lounging around, watching TV, and upon his return, got ready to leave, unprepared to acknowledge the fact I gave in yesterday. I sighed, saying, "If you want something to eat, there's some food in the fridge or whatever." He stopped walking and faced me, his expression changing from apparent frustration to an appreciative smile.
Opening the fridge, he said, "Sorry for looking so mad, I just had a long day." I replied flatly, "We aren't dating, you don't have to explain yourself to me." This reply clearly struck a nerve in Ryder, as he simply stood up, and walked towards me. His eyes locked onto mine with a smoldering gaze, conveying his desire without a single word. The magnetic pull between us was palpable, igniting the air with an electric tension that neither could deny.
It was moments like this that were dangerous. He knew exactly what made me tick and exploited it whenever he could. Trying to feign ignorance, I innocently asked, "Why are you so close?" Ryder, now inches from my face, would finally make his intentions known. "Take me like you used to." His irresistible gaze made me fall apart, and I found myself unable to pull myself away. My fingers found the edge of Ryder's shirt, slipping beneath the fabric to trace the contours of his chest, reveling in the warmth and strength that lay beneath. Lifting it up, I silently went down a path of no return.
His breath hitched as I slowly helped raise his shirt, desire lighting up in his eyes. With our lips tantalizingly close to each other, I couldn't resist the temptation any longer. With a slow, deliberate movement, I leaned in, my lips brushing against Ryder's. It was a whisper of a kiss, a tantalizing tease that left us both breathless.
Now Ryder would take the initiative, getting closer as he kissed all around my neck. Ryder's strong hands roamed my body, igniting a desire that had been dormant for too long. His touch was both possessive and tender, a silent declaration that he had missed this, missed me.
With a barely audible sigh, our lips met again. It was a soft, tentative kiss at first, but it quickly deepened into something more passionate. Our lips moved together hungrily, and our hands roamed each other's bodies, reacquainting themselves with the familiar terrain. It was like the dam holding back all of our desires had burst open. Ryder's strong arms enveloped mine, pulling me in closer, while my fingers found their way to his broad chest once more, a feeling of safety coming over me as our bodies came close to each other.
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I pulled away, breathless and flushed, Ryder led me to the bedroom, as we continued to explore each other's bodies with a hunger that had never truly disappeared. In the heat of the moment, our clothes became an obstacle we couldn't tolerate, and as soon we were naked, our bodies pressed together in sweet ecstasy. It was slow and intense as if we were making up for lost time. The room filled with the sound of our sighs, and the air heated up as passion mixed with desire.
"Let me fuck you," he said, a mischievous look coming over his face. Finally snapping out of my trance, I replied "In your dreams." Putting my clothes back on, I took my pillows and marched down to the living room. I didn't just give in to him once, but twice. Just living together and ignoring each other was not going to work. As I dozed off on the couch, I decided that I had to end things for good.
As I woke up that morning, I concluded that I needed to get things done. The plan was simple; firmly say things are over with Ryder, and tell him I'm moving out. My bags were partially packed, but since I couldn't get my things from there, I didn't have access to the bedroom for the night. Steeling myself, I walked over to the bedroom, with the music getting louder and louder as I ventured down the hallway. With my first knock being met with nothing, I knocked harder and was met with shuffling from the room, which indicated my knocks were heard.
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As the door swooshed open, I was met with Ryder and a wave of steam. As the wave of hot air hit my face, memories of warm showers together and foggy mirrors filled my mind. Coming to it, I finally looked at Ryder. It was clear he was fresh out of the shower, and as my face scanned his chest, my blush gave away my emotion at the moment. Catching this, Ryder said, "Is there something you wanted, or did you just need to see me?"
My plan immediately went sideways as I got flustered, unable to get a single word out. Taking advantage of this, Ryder would whisper in my ear, "If you want me again, just say so." His husky voice in my ear sent me trembling, and the walls I had put up were crumbling each second. I had entered his room with the resolve to finally end things, to sever the connection once and for all. It seemed as if my plan dawned on him by the way I was knocking. He was calling my bluff, and it was working. My body would betray my thoughts, as I simply cried out, "I want you!"
Without warning, Ryder drew me into an intense, passionate kiss. I had no chance of resisting his hunger for me. It was like the dam holding back our desires had burst open. Our lips moved together hungrily, and his hands roamed down my body, reacquainting itself with the familiar terrain. I arched into Ryder's touch and gasped as his fingers dipped lower, exploring the sensitive territory that made my body quiver with desire. Removing his sweatpants, he sat on his chair, cock bulging in his underwear.
"Come and get it."
His words lit a fire in me, as I shifted up to him, and began feeling his bulge. Precum started to wet his underwear around the tip of his cock, and his dick pressed hard against his boxers. Teasingly, I slowly removed his boxers, and as his dick bounced up, it hit me straight in the eye. "Hey!" I said, shocked. He only shrugged, a sly smile on his face. With a smirk, I got to work, licking around his tip, as he threw his head back in response.
There was a familiar feeling to things, the way his dick fit inside perfectly, the way he knew exactly how to pleasure me, it was bliss. Our bodies fit together like pieces of a long-lost puzzle. Ryder's fingers brushed against the delicate lines of my face, while my hands explored the strong, sculpted planes of Ryder's back. In between thrusts, he said, "My cock feels good, doesn’t it?" I couldn't deny how he had been able to pleasure me, and I gave in. All I could let out was an ecstatic "Yes, more!" Maintaining his gaze, he continued pounding into me, each thrust sending me further and further to the edge.
Each stroke was a testament to the passion that had simmered beneath the surface for years. Ryder explored the valleys of my mouth with a mixture of revenge and hunger. Our breaths became labored, as their bodies moved in unison, a testament to our rekindled passion. Unable to take it any longer, a wave of pleasure washed over me as I came, with a moan escaping my mouth as Ryder continued fucking me.
As he held me in the quiet aftermath of our reunion, I could hear our hearts beat in unison. Keeping me in his embrace, he mumbled, "Sex smells great on you." I replied, "Mind saying that a little louder?" He smirked in response, as our usual banter flowed perfectly. Our intimacy deepened, both emotionally and physically, as we explored each other's desires and fantasies together. Many steamy nights were spent in each other's arms were filled with passion and longing, rekindling the fire that had never truly died.
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Heya!
I just saw your open for request post and want to commission an Cyno x gn!reader, please? :) a fluffy and spicy drabble would be lovely. Maybe smth like.. the reader is good friends with Cyno and Tighnari but the reader went on a journey thru teyvat and met the Aether (traveler) on their way and since then they traveled together and been thru much so they have a connection ofc and then when the reader and Aether visit sumeru and they meet Cyno - he will get all jealous? Cause he sees how close they are and he fears that he missed his chance with the reader? But obvsly its not like that and yeah. A lil bit of making out at the end, please? cause Cyno needs to let out some steam after his jealously :^)
Thank you for doing requests btw!
FIRST. It took ages but I was able to sell my soul in exchange for inspiration only recently, I'm so sorry. SECOND thank YOU for asking, I wasn't sure about this until the 3am among us potion made it work. THIRD beautiful pfp, akaza bb fr i love him a normal amount I promise. FOURTH it's 5 am, literally I'm not kidding, I tried to proofread and all that but I don't even know what's my name anymore so I'm sorry for typos and shit. FIFTH I hope It makes sense, enjoy 💀
𝐓𝐖: Fluff and obviously spice (making out, vague allusions to the dirty deeds ;) ), use of petnames (dear, love), lemme know if I missed something.
𝐅𝐭.: Cyno, Aether (but he's your homie) - GN!Reader
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k
𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: Rendezvous - Little Mix (god this song is such a banger)
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Cyno fears nothing.
"Cyno, this is Aether."
Cyno fears one thing.
He'd felt so happy after reading your last letter. You said you'd be back in a few days with a special surprise, but honest to Archons the fact you'd be coming back to him - for him, he’d wanted to say, but not dared to- was enough of a present.
He surely wasn't expecting that this "surprise" would be none other than the Traveler who's saved Sumeru, though. A charming blondie who drifts a bit too close to you, in Cyno's opinion.
"We met in Liyue, he's amazing." You smile, squeezing the blond's shoulder. "He's a well known traveler across Teyvat, even in regions he has yet to visit!"
"I just help those who need it, not that much of a big deal."
Aether blushes and rubs his neck. Aether blushes. And you're touching him in a way that only close friends do.
It's fine, Cyno wants to think. You're allowed to do whatever you want in your life, he sure as hell won't stand in your way. He already stepped aside back in the days, as you excitedly told him how one of his worst fears came true you were leaving for adventure.
Everything to make you happy.
But his mixed feelings would always get in the way and unleash endless internal conflicts. It wasn't simply about not having you around, it was some kind of longing sitting inside his chest and screaming at you not to go.
It was the distance that made him realise: he was, and still is, far too in love for his own good.
And Aether could get in the way of that.
"We meet again, Traveller." The General nods, pushing down such shameful thoughts. "I'm glad to see you are both fairing well."
"It's all thanks to [Name], actually." Aether nudges you in the ribs. "They're really helpful, no matter the task."
You smirk. "Oh, what an honour. The traveller complementing me, a common, mortal nobody."
"Hey, I'm not that annoying!"
"Maybe. But you sure snore at night. That is annoying."
"Wh-! I don't. I know for a fact-"
No, you don't sound like close friends. You sound like a married couple. What just happened in this handful of months? Did Cyno hesitate too long and lost his chance? Now that he had decided to expose his deepest feelings?
"You guys! Paimon is starving here."
Paimon's shrill voice cuts short the bicker, as the Matra's jaw clenches. Good time, credits to Paimon, but seeing the two of you stroll towards the tavern didn't ease the knot in his chest the slightest.
Your laughter wasn't addressed to him nor to his uncanny jokes. He wasn't the one making you smile.
He was the moon and he'd just been eclipsed by the Traveller's brightest light.
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Dinner was... Gut wrenching, to say the least.
You'd known Cyno long enough to tell apart his feelings even as he wears that stoic facade of his. While Paimon and the Traveller didn't have a single clue about the situation, you could feel his dry gaze burning holes on both of your figures, as if the sun had ascended back to the skies and everything around had turned desert.
He was feeling something you'd never quite seen within him.
It took you a bit too long to realise that the fair, lawful General Mahamatra was jealous, of all things.
He was so subtle with it, carefully hid his resentment in his voice and choice of words, in his gestures and mannerisms. But worst of all he didn't propose a single joke during the meal, not even when you laid the chance on a silver platter for him.
That had your mind reeling for the rest of your time together, and even afterwards, as you waved goodnight to Aether and Paimon. As you walked these streets you still know by heart with your dearest friend by your side.
As you choked on the thick air surrounding the two of you.
Maybe you should've left Aether out of it, for the first day, at least. Cyno hadn't seen you in so long, perhaps he didn't like the way Aether inadvertently hogged your attention the entire time when all he wanted was to hear about your adventures.
Yeah, you'd been an idiot for that one.
But, you still had an ace up your sleeve. Quite literally. One that would grant you his forgiveness and hopefully help you say the words to him.
Because of course, it took you less than a week far from him to realise you were smitten for this dad-jokes-spitting being.
You patted your side as you approached Razan Garden in all its glory, and sighed at the feeling of the rectangular box still inside. You could do it, you had to! It took you months of preparation, you wouldn't let it go to waste.
"[Name]." Cyno's voice was soft, as if to match the atmosphere lingering in the marble gazebo. He'd stopped a couple steps ahead of you, but didn't turn to meet your eyes. "My congratulations and best wishes."
You alt abruptly at that. Where the hell is it coming from?
"Uh, thank you?" You quirk a brow. "Did I do something special without knowing?"
He chuckles under his breath. Yes, you are special and he's grateful a being so perfect can exist in this world and is part of his life. But he would never tell you that.
He turns instead. His eyes rich with emotion, gentler. "I'm beyond glad that you found the right person out there, [Name]."
Oh. Oh.
"I only ever hoped for your happiness and well-being, during this period of time."
"Cyno, wait a sec-"
He takes a step forward. "If I had to voice my honest thoughts... I must admit I couldn't find peace of mind knowing you would've been out there alone."
"Cyno-"
"But I see you're perfectly capable of handling your own," the man sighs, shakes his head. A small smile curves his lips. "Just like you've always done."
"Oi-"
And then he's placing loose hands on your shoulders, as if he's in some kind of automatic mode and has to finish the speech at all costs.
For a moment you think he's gone absolutely senile. "Still, I'm relieved you have someone who can watch your back, now. He's a kind-hearted person, level headed, the best you could wish for-"
"Archons' fucking sake, Cyno! Will you hear me out a damn second?"
Cyno almost jumps back, taken out of his weird reverie, but you're quick to trap his face between your hands. You're close, closer than you'd wanted to, unfocused in your frustrated fervor. So much his breath warms the apple of your cheek, as it wasn't burning already.
You take a breath and force more words out before you can cower away from it. "I get where you're coming from, I neglected you today and acted like a shitty friend. And I'm sorry for that."
You lower your gaze to the ground. Now or never. "But it's you, okay? It's always been you! I could travel across all Teyvat and even Celestia, but it's you and just you. So drop that thing you're on about please."
That was disgustingly corny. But hopefully did the trick, you guess.
A beat passes. Then two. You don't see his face, you don't have the courage to take a look at the mess you've made. Him being jealous didn't mean he liked you, not necessarily. Maybe you should've given him the TCG deck and call it a night.
Another beat goes by.
"So... You and Aether are not...?"
He's gonna be the death of you.
You groan, a guttural sound that shouts exasperation from the deepest parts of your chest. All rationality goes to hell as you drag him closer and slam your lips together.
You're kissing him. Archons you're kissing him-
There's no time for Cyno to react. You're pulling away in a frenzy, hoping the ground will open for the Abyss to swallow you right now. You kissed one of your friends only to prove that you're single, and in fact attracted to them. Could it be worse than that? More humiliating and disrespectful to him?
"I'm so sorry!" You wave your hands around. "I shouldn't have without your permission! Are you okay?"
You search his expression for any sign of discomfort; he looks absolutely flabbergasted, but somehow weirdly composed like a bronze statue. His lips -god you'd just kissed them- are parted in the slightest, his eyes wide and yet still. The calm before the storm.
He's showing yet another sentiment you've never really seen him wear.
"Again." Cyno says.
You blink. "Uh?"
You feel his hand slither behind you and circle your waist, as he pushes your body closer. His skin is running hot like the desert's sands and you curse at his choice, or better lack of clothes.
His silver hair falls like a curtain, his eyes sharp. Dangerous, even, if you're not careful enough.
"Please, do it again. I think I've just seen the gates of Celestia." He mutters close to your lips.
That sounds more like him. You can't help but snort at his choice of words, shuddering all the same. The implications of said words dig a flaming hole in your chest.
"How can you be so smart, but dum dum at the same time?" You whisper, one hand traveling to the back of his neck, the other busying itself with stray locks of hair.
And you dip in for another kiss. One you sigh into, one that can be called kiss, actually. It's slower, but full all the same, scorching hot, pushed by feelings that were repressed for too long.
Cyno locks his free hand at your nape, never possessive, although firm. Small sounds bubble in the back of his throat when you bite at his lower lip, then backs just enough to mutter a couple words.
"Can you really blame me? It feels like a dream coming true." He pecks your lips, then presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. "I was scared you'd chosen him."
"So, all those pretty words from before?" You exhale a breathy laugh, cradling his jaw.
"I'd give away everything I have and am if it meant you'd be happy. I could only wish you the best and support you." Cyno smiles, pouting after the next words leave his mouth. "But it doesn't mean I would be fully content with the outcome."
Your brain has turned to mush. This man is too dangerous for this world, a hazard for you and your poor little heart that feels like exploding. It's a threat to your common sense and rationality. But most of all, it's damaging your brakes.
What he's telling you should not be legal.
"Archons, come here." And you kiss, and kiss, kiss again and again. You map each other's bodies with your hands as if it was the last time you'd be seeing each other. You press your mouths, clatter your teeth, intertwine your tongues.
You're straight up devouring in the dead silence of the night, in a public space. But as indecent the sounds you're both making are, it feels as if the world around blurred and blended into nothingness.
You've found yourself with your back to a wall, somehow, a couple buttons loose, skin hit by the cold air of the night. You -surely more clothed than Cyno- are an absolute mess, whereas his appearance doesn't falter much even at your hands' mercy.
It's unfair, he's unfair. He has no right to be this damn perfect even in the face of chaos.
"Not here, Cy." You manage to utter. "Let's go home."
His hand stops halfway up your shirt and he detaches from your neck with a small grunt, red splotches forming already thanks to his work. He doesn't sound pleased with your choice, but wordlessly complies, knocking you off your feet and picking you up so easily it's unfair.
And embarrassing.
You deadpan. "Seriously?"
He finds your eyes, suddenly composed as if nothing happened. "You seemed quite unstable on your legs, dear."
You're audibly gasping at that, whacking his chest and glaring daggers. "You!"
"Let's continue it home, now."
Cyno is really going to be the death of you, in many ways you'd never even considered.
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It's almost dawn when you finally let yourselves snuggle up to each other in the peace of your home. More like his home, since yours needs more than a bit of cleaning after months of disuse, but he's made it clear already: everything that's his is also yours.
Cyno traces patterns on the bare skin of your arm, as you card through the knots on the back of his head, formed after... Recent activity. He seems too lost in your touch to even be awake, when his fingers stop.
"What was the surprise, in the end? Was it the confession?"
Your hands still, your face tightening at the question. When did you even... Oh, right.
"Would you be satisfied if I said yes?"
He pinches you.
"Owie!"
"You should know that what has been of this night matters more than anything, to me. Of course I would be satisfied." Cyno raises a thin brow, as his hand starts to descend agonizingly slow, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. "Was I not clear enough about my feelings? Perhaps you need a reminder-"
"Whoa, hold your horses, General." You chuckle, planting a kiss on his forehead before leaning over to your bedside table, where your bag had been thrown previously. "There was no way I'd come back empty handed after all these months, yanno?"
You pull out the wrapped box, place it in his hands. Cyno stares at it quizzically, but opens the packaging with care after you nudge him in the side.
Oh, his expression is so, so priceless. Cute, too cute, so cute you could die right now on the spot for excess of sugar in your blood. He looks like a kid who's just received the toy he oh so wanted and ranted about.
"It's not just any deck," You explain. "It's a deck made of cards I've gathered around from different regions. Some were more challenging to get, but I've been playing with you for a long time, haven't I? Of course I'd win."
Meanwhile Cyno takes the liberty to browse its contents, and just like you said, they're not from Sumeru. He's barely ever seen them, some are literally unknown, and he's ecstatic at the sight. How long did it take? How much effort?
"This is…" there's no right term to describe it. "Wonderful. You are wonderful, [Name]."
He goes for a hug and you feel like your bodies fit perfectly in each other's arms, as if it was meant to be. Right now, all that matters is this. And it will always be for all you care.
You smile into his shoulder, smooch the base of his neck. "Is it too early to say 'I love you?'."
"I would actually say we're late, Love."
"I love you, then, you Dum-Dum."
"I love you."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"You are like my asthma. You just take my breath away."
You make sure Cyno slams his head as you throw him off the bed.
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DON'T copy/repost my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx
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Wyll's ideal reclassing is as a bard and God herself couldn't change my mind.
Listen. I do like that Wyll is a ranger if he gets out of the pact but rangers are a lonely class by nature and fuck that. And while I also get the people who reclass him as paladin, I think the last thing he needs after getting out of Mizora's pact is to immediately be bound by a new and different set of rules to another otherwordly being he's sworn his soul to.
And while I understand why the devs didn't do this, since bards are sort of a support class and there are many possible endings for Wyll where he is on his own, I am bound by no such rules because i know that the only real canon ending is that he is with Karlach.
So, bard Wyll.
For starters, the man loves drama. Look no further than his introduction, but I would also like to present to the jury the conversation where he tries to find Gale a Cool Wizard Name. Pretty much the only thing he ever has fun with anymore is his theatrics. He'd love every second of being a bard and using said theatrics to defeat his foes. Especially because Wyll is a sweetheart but when he's angry he is angry, and as a bard he gets to let his mean streak out with spells like vicious mockery and such. "Oh he already has vicious mockery as a warlock if you have the pact of the tome" thank you for further supporting my argument. He was made for this
But there is more! Wyll is a folk hero and his whole thing is that he wants to help the weak and in need, and if that isn't supporter class material, then I seriously don't know what is. Yes, defeating monsters is important; but healing people, restoring balance by weakening those who abuse their strength, entertaining and making them happy are all just as important ways of supporting the weak, if not more important.
And those ways allow him to be closer to people, which he is so desperately starved of.
As a warlock he sort of had to keep his distance because Mizora would make sure he never got close to anyone, either intentionally or just by the fact that the nature of his pact put people off (even more so after the horns). Unbound by Mizora, he has no such problems and can find a community, even if temporary, with the people he saves. "Oh but you just said you want him to be with Karlach and then he's in Hell". Yes, and there are people there. Show me a single place with more people who are weak and unfortunate in need of rescuing and respite. I'm not the first person to say this, but they actually have the chance to turn the House of Hope into an actual house of hope where people can rest and escape the horrors of the Hells. And those people would need respite and happiness, and Wyll "Drama Boy" Ravengard would be delighted to provide and find himself among them.
Also, if no one else, he has Karlach, and there is nothing he wants more than to see her happy and alright. I don't need to justify this one, it's text. So, again, supporter class makes a lot of sense in that context. Warlock/ranger is good for when he's on his own, but he's sworn to help and protect Karlach now, and while fighting side by side obviously qualifies, being able to heal her - make sure she's alright - support her in battle more than just fighting with her, gives them a deeper bond and puts him more at ease, I believe. Plus, they both deserve and desperately need some playfulness in their lives, so, at the very least, he can make her laugh with his insane Vicious Mockery casts. He kind of overcasts that one because 1- he has fun with it, and 2- it makes Karlach smile, but they're both op as fuck so it doesn't matter anyway. It's the closest they can get to lightness and fun while they don't find a definitive cure for Karlach's heart.
And once they do find it and get the fuck out of there, listen. They both deserve some downtime, okay. We're talking about two people who have been thrown into fighting nonstop since they were barely on the cusp of adulthood, and who have more trauma to unpack than years of life. So fuck going straight back to adventures and oaths and nonstop seriousness. Sure, Wyll would want to, but he also wanted to go to fucking Hell for no reason. Even with his father back, even free of Mizora, that's the only thing he can think to do with himself if you let him choose. And he deserves better than that. He deserves to rest and unpack what's happened and find value in himself beyond the Blade of Frontiers, to enjoy the youth that was stolen from him; and the man craves to settle down more than anything, even if he won't admit it even to himself other than the marriage aspect of things. But need I remind everyone that when Wyll had been given a death sentence - the tadpole - what he did was stop at a grove and teach kids how to fight? He thought he would do one last mission and then die, and what he did was that for once he allowed himself to stay and get to know people and be part of a community for a while. Sure, they needed him, but so many people did. And he was supposed to be hunting Karlach, yet he put that aside in order to have a place to belong, just for a little while, before he became a monster and lost his soul (which is fine, really. One way or the other, he knew that would be his fate. It's just coming sooner than expected, that's all) (this is me laying down Wyll's logic. None of this is fine and I'm screaming and crying).
As for Karlach, she never even wanted to be thrown into any of this anyway. Once they're out of Avernus, they will both need to rest and breathe, and that is final. And as a bard, Wyll can settle down. He can find a home and a community, have a place to come back to, have vacations when he needs to, have fun when he wants to. He will never fully give up being a hero - it's who he is, it's who he's always been even before he was the Blade. Someone who cares, someone who wants to be there for others - but he can and should find balance between that and being himself. And what better class to do that than the artsy, dramatic, drawing-strength-from-your-own-self-expression class?
Plus, as a bard, he gets to sing absolutely off the shits songs about the Blade of Frontiers/Avernus while being the Blade of Frontiers/Avernus. The comedy potential is unlimited. You want to see that. You agree. Don't lie to me.
Also, bards' spellcasting modifier is also charisma, so that's just convenient. I know that when you get reclassed in bg3 you can simply change your stats but uhhhhh. Fuck that? And yes, yes, he already has high wisdom because if anyone has a will of iron it's him, but I also feel like Wyll's off the shits charisma is a part of who he is. He is charming, both in the romantic and non-romantic sense. He enjoys being around people, he loves culture more than anything (I am once again thinking about his idle dialogue with Gale at the tollhouse when Gale says that they must have been very rich with all the trade from the Chiontar and Wyll replies, "And they wouldn't have brought just trade goods, but song, dance, and custom. Riches of the mind and the spirit". If that doesn't summarize Wyll's values and love of life I don't know what the fuck does), he likes being social and charming others. And people are drawn to him, people trust him, because he's a goddamn folk hero through and through, and not just because he's the Blade of Frontiers. So keeping his stats and using his charisma to draw his magical strength just makes sense for him
There's no other class that Wyll would enjoy as much, that would allow him to keep his favorite parts of being the Blade while also allowing room to be himself, or that would fit his current stats as well. Wyll was made to be a bard and I'll go to war over this
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color symbolism in madoka magica
Obviously colors are important in PMMM, each soul gem is assigned to each girl based on a color, and the girls have very prominent color schemes, but why each color scheme for each girl? And does it go any deeper than that? I am going to pick it apart one color at a time going in rainbow order, first by analyzing what each color means to each magical girl and their wish, and then applying that to where else the color can be found in the series. (this is my first meta post pls be nice to me)
RED - PASSION
Red is Kyoko’s signature color, representing her passionate and abrasive nature. Her association with red represents her attitude and fiery energy, as well as her wish. Her wish was for people to respect her father, and listen to his teachings and passions. She’s a veteran, and a very powerful magical girl. 
In addition to Kyoko, Kyubey has disturbingly red eyes because it’s super creepy, but also because he’s a very powerful figure in the show. Only his eyes are red, representing power and a strong will to achieve a goal, but not a true passion. 
At the very beginning of the series, there is a scene with Madoka and her mother about choosing which hair tie. Her choice is between a yellow one and a red one, and ultimately Madoka chooses the red one, encouraged by her mother. Madoka’s mother is also associated with the color red, being a powerful businesswoman and role model. 
In Madoka and Homura’s scene together in between worlds, Madoka gives Homura her red hair tie. Homura keeps the hair tie and wears it in honor of Madoka’s sacrifice in the new reality. Homura, now having the hair tie, adds a red element to her purple and black color scheme that was not present before. Madoka, on the other hand, loses all red in her color scheme. The hair tie serves to ask the question: did Madoka really choose her passion? Madoka wanted to live, we see that frequently in the series. She hesitates to become a magical girl all throughout the series because of this desire to live. She wants a normal life, but she puts the well being of others over her own. That being said, her desire to help others does not erase her desire to live. In a perfect world she would be able to do both, but instead, she passes the baton (or more literally the hair tie) to Homura, who only ever wanted to save Madoka from her cruel fate. Homura then gets to live her life free of becoming a witch. Power, true power, is in living your life the way that you want to. Kyoko lives her life the way she wants. Madoka’s mother lives her life the way she wants. But not Madoka, who gives up her red hair tie in hopes that Homura can live her life the way she wants. 
Rebellion takes Homura’s desires to the absolute extreme, and the color red is not absent in showing it. Homulily dons red spider lilies, and Homura wears the red hair tie all throughout Rebellion, except for the very end when she gives it back to Madoka. When Homura has the hair tie, she follows her passion, which is to save Madoka and give her a normal life. At the end of the movie she accomplishes this goal, and gives the hair tie back to Madoka. Homura gives up her chance at a normal life so Madoka can have one. Akuma Homura also has plenty of red in her color scheme, further enunciating that Homura’s devil form is the epitome of her desire to give Madoka everything she deserves. 
ORANGE - ACCEPTANCE
Okay red was a long one I promise they’re not all this long this color is a lot less complex. Orange is Nagisa’s soul gem color, and most likely represents acceptance, but I’d love to hear someone else’s ideas on what orange might represent. Nagisa’s wish was to finally do something to impress her mother and to be loved by her. However, after her mother’s death she accepts that her mother treated her horribly, and instead seeks acceptance in other people and eventually finds it in Mami Tomoe. 
YELLOW - SELF SACRIFICE
Yellow is Mami Tomoe’s soul gem color. Mami, as her name suggests, is a very maternal figure in the show specifically for Nagisa, Sayaka and Madoka. She protects them, advises them, and cares for them. The color yellow represents self sacrifice. Mami puts herself in harm’s way and ultimately perishes for it in order to show Sayaka and Madoka the gruesome nature of being a magical girl. This is in stark contrast to her own wish, which was to save herself. Her guilt over this wish drives her selflessness. She couldn’t save her family, but she can save others. 
Madoka’s eyes turn yellow in her goddess form because she has made the ultimate self sacrifice for the fate of all magical girls. In the very beginning of the series, Madoka is encouraged by her mother to wear the red hair tie over the yellow one. Her mother opposes her decision to sacrifice herself, just as she opposed the yellow hair tie. At the very end of Rebellion, Madoka arrives at the school wearing the yellow hair tie, representing her past self sacrifice. As discussed earlier, Homura switches out her hair ties, replacing her self sacrifice with the desire and passion to live the way she wants. Madoka does not want to die, she wants to live the way she wants to, but ultimately when given the choice she will always choose to save others over herself. Without the influence of others, Madoka will choose to sacrifice herself. She will choose the yellow hair tie even if she doesn’t want to. 
It’s worth mentioning that in color theory, yellow is the opposite of purple. I’ll get to purple later but it’s interesting that Homura’s signature color, which represents love, is the opposition to self sacrifice. 
GREEN - NORMALCY/THE REST OF THE WORLD
Green is Hitomi’s color, and it represents normalcy. Green is the rest of the world outside of the magical girls. Green is the color of nature, and nature opposes magic. 
BLUE - REGRET
Sayaka Miki’s signature color is blue, and it represents regret and sadness. Different from the despair represented by the color black, blue represents sadness as a natural part of life. Regret is inevitable, everyone makes bad decisions, but ultimately the goal is to not fall into despair and lose control of your life because of it. (Sayaka actually comments on this in Rebellion while fighting Hitomi’s nightmare!) 
PURPLE - LOVE
Homura Akemi’s signature color is purple, representing love. Homura’s wish is based on her love for Madoka, and everything she does is for Madoka’s benefit. In Rebellion, in the flower scene, the flowers turn purple as Homura tells Madoka how important she is to her. Purple represents her original wish, while black represents what she becomes, which I will explore later. 
PINK - HOPE
Madoka Kaname’s signature color is pink, representing hope. Madoka becomes the manifestation of hope, in contrast to despair. I forgot where I read this but in the original timeline Madoka uses her wish to save a cat. To save someone else is to hope that they will be okay. Madoka has hope for everyone around her, almost to a fault. 
Pink is also a secondary color on Kyubey, representing the false sense of hope he gives to magical girls. 
BLACK/WHITE - CONTROL
Black and white are interconnected in their symbolism so I’ll group them together. White is Kyubey’s color, while black is the color of grief seeds and witches. Black represents despair over a lack of control, while white represents overwhelming control. Witches are magical girls who have succumbed to despair, and the blackness that clouds a soul gem represents this despair. Magical girls have no control over this destiny, and often when finding out about this fate they succumb to despair anyway. White is both Kyubey and Goddess Madoka’s color, and it can also be found on each of the color schemes of every magical girl. It represents the control that Kyubey has on each of their lives. Madoka as a goddess replaces Kyubey as the controller of the fate of all magical girls, with a primarily white color scheme. 
The reason I grouped these two together is because of Homura. While Homura’s soul gem color is purple, her color scheme differs from the rest of the magical girls in that it doesn’t contain much of her soul gem color. She wears a black and white outfit, representing her control over time, and her lack of control over Madoka’s fate. Homura is in a constant struggle of how much control she is allowed to have over her and Madoka’s lives. She’s controlled by Kyubey and knows it, and she knows of her eventual fate. As Akuma Homura, the white in her color scheme is completely gone. She has accepted her lack of control over her own fate. She knows that eventually Madoka will realize her fate and they will inevitably be enemies because of Madoka’s overwhelming need to sacrifice herself for others. She accepts the fact that she cannot control Madoka’s fate, but the least she can do is attempt to give her a normal life for a little while. She is free from Kyubey’s control, but has also lost all control over herself and her desires. Homura acts only on her wants, while Madoka does not act on her wants at all. This push and pull dynamic is represented through the colors black and white.
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crazy-ache · 8 days
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Eclipse the Sun {Helion x Lady of Autumn Drabble}
“Shall I beg?”
Helion Spell-Cleaver looked down at Orla from where he stood, memorizing every inch and shade and detail of her. The colors she brought from Autumn didn’t exist here in Day, from the gleaming ruby of her hair, the freckles scattered across her skin, the amber of her eyes—and the red of his mate’s blood that he had killed to protect.
“Are you going to make me go on my knees?” She laughed the sweetest sound, even if its echo only revealed the layers of sadness beneath its song. Helion flashed his usual, iconic grin, even if it wavered in her presence.
And when she still said nothing, he dropped to his knees. The fall was two resounding thuds against the marble floor.
For his mate—the Lady of Autumn—this position was usually reserved for happier times. For his devoted tongue and merciless hands. Where he would kiss her like sunlight catching through the canopy of Autumn’s jewel-toned leaves.
But he wasn’t smiling anymore.
“I’m begging you, Orla.” He said more seriously now. Her milky white skin shot up to stroke his dark, strong jaw. Begging. Begging in her own way for him to not say the words—but there was no choice, not for him. He was not a male of half-measures.
“I’m begging you to reject the bond. Because if you’re going to end this, it needs to be permanent.”
He had to pull his head into her lap, a hard swallow forced down his throat as if the words itself wanted to claw back down his throat to be never said. His blood cried in outrage. Helion could not bring himself to look at her, or he’d remember too much of their story—of the Equinox ball where the bond had snapped from across the dance floor at first sight, to the many spelled gifts and enchanted letters he had masterfully sent to her in secret over decades, to the passionate affair they had just shared right before this conversation.
To right before she had told him Beron finally knew.
He was no High Lord and there was no going against the wrath of Autumn Court’s cruelest. Because no one would survive the aftermath—not him, not her children, and certainly not his mate.
“If you don’t reject it, then I won’t be able to stay away. I won’t. And your plan will fail.”
“Helion—”
“Please.”
He finally looked up, his dark brown eyes swirling with agony as he wrapped his arms around her middle, shaking her with desperation. “Please. Don’t leave me here bleeding for eternity with the insanity of hope. Just end it so I may at least one day die with the peace of knowing you are not mine.”
She ran her fingers through his long hair. Tears streamed down her cheeks and the bond felt like it was already fraying at the ends, splintering down to the very core of their souls.
“I can’t do that to you. I can’t hurt you—”
As he rested his head again on her lap, he knew there was nothing she could ever do that would truly hurt him. His own pain was nothing compared to the thought of a world without her, and he would do anything, anything to ensure she was safe. He would burn the world for her. Instead, the world was going to burn him—and Helion would let her break the bond.
There was no spell or tonic or indulgence that would help him forget that day. And he tried. Cauldron, did he try. Neither would he forget the day he became High Lord of Day—and the hand he had broken from when he punched the mirror so forcefully the entire palace trembled. Too late. Too late he had risen to power. Too little, too late, he was still powerless to save her.
Madness. Is that what this was? A neverending gnawing that was forced to keep at bay constantly. Madness, he had been told, would befall him if he were to be rejected. But Helion was far from the madness of the mind—but he was furious. Always furious. A secret so carefully hidden like the magic he controlled. He mastered the careful, magnetic smiles, the way he sought fucking to fill his mind with anything but her, and the joy he could plaster to his face like a mask.
Helion Spell-Cleaver marched through the halls and libraries of his court and wondered what his people would think if they knew their High Lord of Day had a heart filled with nothing but darkness. If they knew he wasn’t who they thought he was—he was just the dark side of the sun after he lost her.
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mixtape-racha · 9 months
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it's a scream, baby | hyunlix
chapter fourteen: you look like you've seen a ghost
words: 961 // warnings: car crash, graphic depictions of dead bodies, description of internal body parts, use of a gun, knives
OFFICIAL GHOSTFACE KILL COUNT: 011
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with her heart thumping in her chest, (y/n) trudged down the road, feeling more and more sick as changbin’s house came closer into view. it was torture, bringing herself back to the place she had only just escaped, but she would do anything to save hyunjin. even if she had to sacrifice herself. even if she had to take someone else’s life. she’d do it all to not lose him too.
there was a small turn-off into the outskirts of the woods as she approached changbin’s house - it was on his parents’ land, and it meant she wouldn’t have to walk down the main road. the walk felt longer on the main road, anyway, seemingly endless, whereas at least in the wooded area she’d be able to watch nature as she forced herself to keep walking.
she knew if she followed the line of bushes next to the main road, within maybe 5 minutes she’d be at the bottom of changbin’s ridiculously large front garden. as soon as she hit the lining of oak trees, she’d be able to see his front door and save hyunjin - hopefully. she prayed that it wasn’t just another sick game, and she wouldn’t arrive to see hyunjin’s dead body, telling her she was too late, or worse, that he would’ve died either way.
she was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t realize she had reached the line of oak trees, huffing out a breath of air as she looked around. almost as quickly as she moved, she froze, something catching her eye that made her stomach turn. even from the back, she could tell it was jisung - her best friend in the entire world. she was so caught up in the hope that he got away, the fact that he might be dead hadn’t even crossed her mind. 
the branches of the tree were so high that his feet were at her eye-level, those stupid platform converse that he always wore. as she approached and saw the front of his body come into view, she felt sicker than she ever had in her life. he had been completely gutted, all of his insides hanging out on display. there was dried blood all over his figure, and his skin had a horrible blue tint to it.
he’d been hung from the tree by his own intestines, and (y/n) could only pray he was dead already before he was lifted up to that height.
a new-found rage had been sparked in her soul, and she gripped the gun in her hand tighter as she trudged up to the house. she was going to kill the killer herself, getting vengeance for all her friend’s she’d lost along the way. for the innocent people who died, for yeji who had suffered so much. this was going to end now.
she had no care of hiding herself as she kicked the front door open, face hard like stone and an inextinguishable anger roaring inside of her.
“come on out then you fucking coward. you’ve got me where you want me, might as well make it worth my time.”
gun cocked and grasped tightly in her hand, she was ready to shoot at any slight movement.
“(y/n)...” a quiet whimper of her name had her whipping her head around, catching sight of hyunjin tied to a chair in the center of the living room. his pretty face was covered in bruises, cuts littering his skin. he looked more than disheveled, and utterly exhausted. she rushed over to him, working fast to make her shaky hands untie the knots keeping him hostage.
“oh, hyunie…” she breathed, helping him get out of the chair and gently placing him onto the couch, lifting his injured legs to give him more comfort. “don’t worry. i’m going to end this, they’re not going to hurt you anymore, i swear.”
a grimace was plastered on the boy’s face, which hurt the deepest parts of your heart before he shook his head and lifted his arm up to point behind you.
“no, (y/n)...”
she heard the footsteps crossing the hall before she managed to turn around, her body instinctively stepping in front of hyunjin to protect him. gun raised and pure hatred in her eyes, she finally came properly face-to-face with the psychopath behind all of this.
“this is over, now. no more. if i have to kill you, i’ll do it.”
the figure chuckled, sending goosebumps all over (y/n)’s body as she tried to place where she knew it from.
“don’t be silly, (y/n), you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
she gasped as all pain and tiredness had disappeared from hyunjin’s voice, the boy feeling a lot closer to her as she felt something press against her side. she looked down to see hyunjin looking up at her with a smirk on his face, a knife pressed against her side, ready to delve into her flesh at any given moment. her eyes searched his, utterly confused and betrayed, tears welling up in her eyes.
“hyun–”
“don’t be rude,” he seethed, a devilish smirk on his lips and he nodded his head back towards the figure and pressed the tip of the blade against her hip harder, nicking the flesh ever so slightly. “someone’s been waiting to talk to you.”
with her body shaking uncontrollably, she lifted her head to look the figure in its masked eyes. her head was swirling, making her feel dizzy as she tried to piece together what the fuck was going on. her heart shattered as the figure reached to remove its mask, shaking its head to sort out its hair and look her in the eyes to reveal…
felix.
oh, god, no.
“surprise, love.”
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