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#should i salt circle this post
uncanny-tranny · 4 months
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I am probably not the best person to talk about this, but an arm of white supremacy I've noticed is this idea that white people who even passively recognize racism or the idea that a person of colour is an equal are groveling at the feet of PoC.
While these ideas attack a seeming "character flaw" of a white person/person seen or conceptualized as white who isn't overtly or openly racist, these ideas rely on the white supremacist idea that non-white people (are at best) subhuman, or not human at all. There's this trope of the White Saviour that absolutely does exist, and I'm not denying that, but sometimes, I've noticed that people invoke the idea of the White Saviour in order to subtly insinuate that white people should "put PoC in their place (below whites)." Does that make sense?
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prickly-paprikash · 17 days
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Kendrick doesn't just hate Drake as a person. He hates the very idea of Drake.
Hip-Hop is rooted in revolution. In defiance. These are the songs of an oppressed group of people, and decades upon decades people have hated it. Accused of being meaningless and invalid. Media outlets took steps to belittle hip-hop and make sure it isn't recognized as an art form and as a means to fight back.
2Pac spoke of wealth disparity and inequality. Tupac was literally a member of a communist organization when he was younger and never stopped speaking against capitalism.
Lauryn Hill spoke of the struggles a woman faces. Not just women, but black women. Salt-N-Peppa. Queen Latifah. MISSY FUCKING ELLIOT.
N.W.A made sure people knew about police brutality and violence against the Black community.
And now, in this day and age, we're also experiencing an explosion of Queer Hip-Hop. Lil Nas X is at the forefront of this. Lil Uzi Vert came out as non-binary and uses they/them pronouns, even when they knew that a lot of their fans would never use it or even respect them for it. Auntie Diaries, a song about a young man who grew up in a transphobic environment and bought into those beliefs, but could never fully do it because his Uncle loved him so much and taught him a lot of life lessons, and that wisdom translated to him accepting his cousin as a woman as well.
Drake is none of that.
He's the perfect representation of what people think hip-hop is. Flexing. Posturing. Objectifying women. A fucker so insecure he bought 2Pac's ring just to feel like he's part of the black community. Rejected by Rihanna publicly. Tried to groom Millie Bobby Brown. Kissed and inappropriately touched an underage girl during his concert. His songs have inspired so many young boys to treat girls like shit. His belief that the amount of rings and chains and cars he has is the true meaning of success.
Additional Edit: This is my fault. If this post gains more views, then it would be remiss of me not to add to this. It was my fault to begin with, not stating this beforehand because while I did know, I got lost in celebrating Hip-Hop in a place that doesn't usually do so, and rightfully so.
2Pac did fight for wealth equality and better social living for the black community. He also has a long, long history of battery, domestic abuse, and sexual harassment against women. Specifically against women of color. He made a song to celebrate his own mother, but outright refused to give the same show of respect to other women in his life. His hypocritical nature was brushed off in later decades, just the way I did now.
N.W.A is the same. Sexual assault charges, violence—they spoke of Police reform, but refuses to give the same treatment back towards the women in their lives.
50 cent refuses to backtrack on any of his misogynistic lyrics.
Modern rappers of today, such as the dead XXXtentacion. 6ix9ine. Kodak Black.
I do love Hip-Hop. I love rap. And the music itself has always been anti-authoritarian at its core, because those are its roots. And I was happy that circles that did not normally know of it or enjoy it were getting into it, even for one thing like this rap feud.
Lil Nas X, Little Simz, Childish Gambino, Missy Elliot, Queen Latifah, Lauryn Hill—rappers who have at the very least consistently tried to put their money where their mouth is. Who have tried to act in accordance to what they rap and write and sing for.
@shehungthemoon @ohsugarsims finnthehumanmp3 were the ones who rightfully clarified in the comments. I know an apology won't correct my hypocrisy or my stupidity. I should have added all of this before making this post, but I wanted so badly to celebrate a genre of music but failed to do my due diligence in showing a better, holistic view of it. If anyone felt triggered, offended, troubled, frustrated or any other intense negative emotions surrounding this, please do block me. I'm sorry.
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gatitties · 2 months
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Beyond the sea
─Luffy x mermaid!reader
─Summary: Venturing outside the established limits made you meet what could be your soulmate, you are completely grateful for having disobeyed your father a little.
─Warnings: inspired by the movie ponyo.
SOOOO, this is a wonderful collab with @alicedash2, who had the idea, if you liked the topic you can check out her post too!! and Here is her Wattpad account in case you want content in portuguese! :p
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Luffy took firm steps across the uneven terrain, a frown lingering on his face as he huffed angrily, Ace and Sabo didn't let him go up to the treehouse, so he decided to go to the beach to see the ships that came and went from Foosha Village port, he swung his arms until he finally reached a small cliff, he went down a clear path where the rocks were more worn until he reached the shore and kicked the water, still a little annoyed with his brothers.
His eyes scanned the sea, seeing how Shanks' ship was near the port, he smiled when thinking about the redhead, he waited impatiently for him to tell him more stories about his adventures, and he would also ask him again to be part of his crew.
"Huh?"
His gaze stopped at something floating near his, childish curiosity urged him to get closer, regardless of whether his clothes got wet, he cringed because of how cold the water was but he continued until the water reached up to his thighs, looking sideways, he found a stick floating next to him, he used it to poke the floating thing until it turned over, it was a fish.
"What a strange fish, it has human face… will it be edible?"
He continued poking until he saw how the fish's eyes opened, while his gaze shone, yours darkened as you noticed how he woke you up from your nap, sipping some salt water, you spit it right in Luffy's face with impeccable aim.
"Hey!"
You laughed internally as you saw his change of mood, using his stick to get away from you, you bit it preventing him from hitting you, he began to shake it up and down, making you dizzy as you were still chewing on the wood, Luffy ended up falling to the ground, the water level already on his chest, you swam in circles around him studying the human while he wiped the water off his face, he laughed as he watched you do some tricks in the water, forgetting his previous anger with his brothers, he spent the afternoon next to you on the shore.
You had ventured out of the depths of the sea, in a moment of confusion on the part of your father, you managed to escape to be able to see what was beyond the depths of the oceans, you had always been warned that you should not go up, but curiosity of a child is much stronger.
You really liked listening to what the human said about everything he did on the surface, and he seemed to be entertained by the way you swam and played with some crustaceans that were nearby, you didn't even realize that night was falling until Luffy sneezed because the cold settled on his body.
Neither of you seemed to want to separate now that you had begun to enjoy each other's company, so the boy quickly went to look for a bucket where he could carry you. You waited patiently on the shore until you saw him appear with a big smile and a green bucket, balancing it in his hands, he filled it with water and you jumped into it, a little uneasy at the reduction in space.
"I'm sure Ace and Sabo will be so jealous that I found you first, I'll rub it in their faces for not letting me go up to the treehouse! Oh, and you have to splash them when you see them, that will be fun."
You listened in silence as he ranted about his family, attentive to every anecdote and fact, you smiled when you saw his house in the distance, the wood on the walls was a little splintered, the interior didn't have the best decoration either and everyone seemed to have already started eating dinner without wait for Luffy.
"Why is everyone eating without me!? I'm going to starve because Ace will eat everything!"
"Stop complaining kiddo, we left a separate plate for you, what do you have there, boy?" Dandan leaned over to see you swimming in circles in the bucket "Did you bring fish for us to cook?"
"No way! She is not food!"
Ace raised his face from the plate on which he had crashed, Sabo sighed, passing a napkin over his brother's stained cheeks, both looked curiously at what Luffy had in his hands and approached.
"What is-?"
When both brought their faces closer to the bucket, a stream of water soaked them completely, Luffy laughed at their surprised expressions while you jumped, hitting his hand in a weird “high five” for the joke. They calmed down a bit after that as hunger won out for now, your mouth watering and delighting at the meat that ─somewhat reluctantly─ Luffy shared with you, although he probably stole some from Sabo to give to you.
You returned to the surface often after that day, your father became suspicious of your disappearances, but your mother was a little more permissive, over time, you developed powers that allowed you to transform, you could become a human or a combination of human and fish, with legs and arms but being parts of an amphibian, your relationship with Luffy became closer to the point that you did nothing if not together, you were rarely separated from the boy unless you were in the depths of the sea.
Your relationship with Ace and Sabo also grew closer, you enjoyed their company, you appreciated the things they taught you, Ace gave you some self-defense lessons while Sabo helped you understand some concepts and provided you with valuable information about the terrestrial world.
Normally you would rather watch them do their fighting tournaments, because you weren't that interested, plus they didn't like it either because you always won, even though you defended yourself by saying that using your mermaid magic wasn't cheating, you didn't care enough and you decided to observe in silence and write down each one's victories.
You competed with Ace on which of the two of you fainted more times a day, the use of your powers drained every ounce of your being, and Ace's narcolepsy was in competition, Sabo kept track of how many times you fell asleep during a day, while the blonde protects his brother's head from being hit, Luffy usually holds your body close to him when you start to rub your eyes drowsily.
Like this time, you were both on the same cliff as the first time you met, Luffy hugged you, your head rested against his shoulder while your eyes struggled not to close, the sunset was very beautiful, although at first you were just here to flee from his brothers for playing a joke on them, the moment seemed to be perfect to watch how the sky was stained with warm tones.
Luffy mumbled your name as he saw you closed your eyes, shaking a little, he said something you weren't aware of, giving a lazy yawn, you rubbed your eyes, opening them to look at him.
"Can you… can you repeat what you said?"
He chuckled as he saw your almost passed out form in his arms, nodding.
"I said I would be the king of the pirates and I asked you if you wanted to be part of my crew, I bet not all pirates have mermaids as companions! Shanks at least doesn't have one on board…"
As if Luffy's excitement had awakened your consciousness a little and gotten rid of the tiredness in your mind, you lifted your head from his shoulder like an owl, gave him your best smile, nodding effusively, you grabbed his hands with a new glow in your eyes, you had always heard the three brothers arguing about pirates, thinking that Luffy would include you in his plans delighted you.
"Of course! I will crush the sea creatures that try to break our ship, I will help you be the pirate king Luffy!"
Luffy laughed vigorously, tightening the grip he still had on your hands, both of you shaking them in some kind of weird greeting, like an agreed promise.
It was something you planned to accomplish, although you didn't expect that time would pass so quickly, with some setbacks and incidents that you preferred not to remember, you looked at the cliff with big eyes until an older version of Luffy snapped his fingers at you to snap you out of your daydream.
"Are you ready to go? Many adventures await us, I'm sure!"
You smiled softly at your companion's enthusiasm, nodding, you climbed onto the small boat with your own suitcase, rolling your eyes at the sight of Luffy's backpack only filled with food, you untied the knot that ran the ship aground in the harbor, raising the sail so that the wind will guide your first destination.
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[It is November of 2021. I am being led down a hallway that looks more like it should be on a ship than a government building. Metal walls with painted horizontal lines down its length, marked with “water depth” markers every 30 feet or so. My guide is a bored-looking man in a suit, balding, checking his clipboard. I seem to remember his name is Clarke, but he’s not who I’m here to see.]
M] Does this tunnel flood?
C] Hm?
M] The water markers.
C] Oh, those. Not unless something bad happens. She’s pretty good about it.
M] Is her name really –
C] Yth’Wa, Herald of Change. Yes. Changed it legally. Not that she gets out much.
M] …kind of an indoorsy person?
C] I mean she’s never in the outside world.
M] Not even to get food?
C] She has people for that.
[Suddenly, from doorways that lead off the hallway, we are joined by six figures wearing yellow robes that conceal their identities entirely. I smell brine and dead fish. Clarke looks back and seems to count the figures, but otherwise doesn’t react.]
M] Is this a joke? 
C] Wish it was, ma’am. Hey, fellas.
[Two of the figures wave. We approach a bulkhead at the end of the hall, and Clarke spins the wheel lock. The taste of salt hits my mouth - like the seaside, like brine. Clarke enters the chamber beyond, and three of the figures follow him. Three of them wait behind me, as if waiting to escort me. After a moment’s hesitation, I enter the chamber.
It is dark, hewn from rough stone, sloping downward into dark water. I look up, and the ceiling cannot be seen in the darkness. Utility lights illuminate the path downward, a few of them trailing into the still water. Clarke takes up a post next to the door, and the yellow figures form a pattern facing the water. Two of them kneel, two of them prostrate themselves, and two raise their hands and begin a chant. 
I can’t help myself. I back up, and whisper to Clarke.]
M] You cannot be serious.
C] You’re the one that wanted to meet her. 
M] Who the hell am I meeting? 
[Wordlessly, Clarke points to the water. A figure is emerging. 
A humanoid figure, also clad in yellow robes. Her hood is pulled low over her face, only the bottom half of her face visible. She has both hands placed together, palms pressed together in a gesture of prayer. She walks calmly from the water, up the incline, and it becomes clear she must be…seven feet tall, or more. Pallid grey-green skin is visible under her hood, and her hair….not hair. Tentacles. Tendrils roll down her shoulders and chest, spill from her sleeves. Her face is thin, her cheeks are marked with slits - gills.
As she emerges, she joins the chant with her own voice. As water spills from her form, fully on dry land now, her words change to English. An unearthly, inhuman voice…but not unpleasant.]
Yth’Wa] Fathoms deep, fathoms old. Fathoms dark, fathoms cold. We leave the cradle, leave the fold. To serve the one, the Lord in Gold. 
[There is a pause. Yth’Wa smiles and stands beyond the yellow figures, who are silent but have not moved from their spots. She is close to me, and seems to regard me with a small smile. Her face is…unnatural, but not ugly. Something beyond. When she speaks, it is with a strange resonance, and no small amount of amusement.]
Y] Ms Hendricks. I was told of your coming.
M] …wh…Yth’Wa?
Y] Do not be afraid.
[She moved her arms, spreading them out. Water dripped off her robes, and tentacles slipped back into her sleeves.]
Y] I am an ally of the Office. I do not harm the unbeliever, as they have their part to play in the grand Circle. The King Of All And Nothing has spoken, and we listen.
M] I don’t…I don’t know what to say. 
Y] Then speak your truth. 
M] ….I’m here to ask you questions.
[Yth’Wa’s smile widens. Her teeth are sharp, triangular, serrated. I look back at Clarke, who seems nonplussed. He looks at his phone and swears softly, seemingly realizing he doesn’t get reception here. Yth’Wa’s tone is not unfriendly, but somehow…as if she’s humoring me. Slight but not aggressive sarcasm rolls off her lips.]
Y] Inquisitiveness is what drew us all to the Circle, Ms Hendricks. It is a virtue worthy of the Yellow Empty. This is a holy quest. 
M] I feel like I’m being condescended to. 
Y] No force in the ocean could compel me to do so. 
M] But on land? 
[She puts her hands back together with a playful smile.] 
Y] What are your questions, my dear?
M] …I was going to ask you about the poster, but first…who are you? 
Y] I am Yth’Wa, Herald of Change, leader of the Yellow Circle. 
M] And what is the…Yellow Circle? 
[Yth’Wa gestures to the other figures in yellow behind her.] 
Y] We are the children of the One Who Dwells Between. We reach out in humility and hope to the space beyond our candlelight, and we embrace what we find. Our god, the Golden Father, shepherds us into the dark void, and bestows upon us gifts that we take upon ourselves gladly. 
M] And you’re….allied with the Office? They’re okay with this. 
[Yth’Wa’s smile is slightly more amused, almost smug. Her tone is like kindly addressing a child.] 
Y] It’s our world too, Meghan. We live here. We have a vested interest in keeping the things that slither around the lighthouse of the human mind at bay…or under our control. The Office often finds these skills useful. Such as your poster.
M] The….sock a Shoggoth one.  
Y] Indeed. It’s an old one. You saw a ripple of waters past, Ms Hendricks.
M] Sorry? 
Y] Do you know of Operation Deep Whisper? 
M] I…I don’t, no. 
Y] Mmmh. 
[She steps forward. I’m unsure of what to do, and in my hesitation, she walks around me. Studying me, her eyes never visible but nonetheless biting into me.]
Y] You’ve met Josiah. Josiah Carter. 
M] Of Psychotronics? 
Y] Of those who wade in pools they will drown in. Tell me. Did he talk about the things they invited? 
M] He mentioned things that…came from their experiments. 
Y] Poor Josiah. He knew only half of what he unleashed. 
M] I don’t think I understand. 
[Yth’Wa took in a deep breath.]
Y] When men take hammers to glass, they should not be surprised when it leaks. Those at the Office, in their uniforms and titles. They frayed the real in order to see through it, and they didn’t like what they saw. What they let through. By the 1960s, the camera obscura  they had made in their blind stabbing through reality had become a tear. A broken fence post, and of course things came through. Things…not under our control. 
M] The things he described sounded horrific. What are they?
Y] Me and mine are…inured to them, somewhat. The Office now calls them Outsiders. Entities from other spaces, other realms, dimensions beyond ours. Beyond the veils. As you can imagine, they are often dangerous to humanity. Physically violent, or ontologically inimical to human life. Often...alien thought patterns, incompatible with the mortal mind. Ontologically incompatible - too many of them, and their reality leaks into ours...impossible geometry, mosses and fungi that degrade the integrity of realspace. Or reality, as humans see it.
M] And you can control them?
Y] More or less. Keep them at bay, influence their behavior. Sometimes they can appreciate something that thinks like them. But all that and more were slowly being unleashed through the world, a secret plague that threatened to collapse the Office’s so called normality. Beasts, anomalies, and forces threatened even our way of life. 
M] So they asked the Yellow Circle for help. 
Y] Indeed. I was not the leader at the time, but the Circle allied with the Office to eradicate this plague. Using resources and funding from the more mundane conflict in Vietnam, we battled the Outsider across the globe throughout the 1960s, and into the 70s. Our people call it Gul’tho Z’Thuth G-Uz, the Conflict of Brother Blood. But the Office calls it Operation Deep Whisper. It is there your posters come into play - propaganda, encouragement for a war against an enemy so alien that they cannot be understood. 
[That smile again.] 
Y] By the Office, anyway.  
M] And it worked? 
Y] You had not heard of Outsiders before you came to the Office, had you? We saved the world, Ms Hendricks. Our world. 
M] I guess we can chalk that one up as a success. 
Y] Indeed. 
M] I don’t feel the need for most of my questions….Yth’Wa. But I guess I had another. 
Y] Speak freely. 
M] You were…human, right? All of you, but especially you. Who were you before you were Yth’Wa?
[There is a moment of silence. Yth’Wa looked…momentarily annoyed, her thin lips turning down at the ends in a way that made my stomach churn. But after a moment, she seemed to reset, relax her posture.]
Y] Who I was is dead. The One Whose Sign Dances saw me for who I was, and made me into something…more. More real, more truthful. Who I was is…dead. Do you understand? 
M] I….I think I do. 
Y] Magnificent. If you had no further questions….
[She steps forward, and I flinch. She pauses, as if attempting not to spook an animal, reaching into her robes and slowly pulling free a single scallop shell. It shined like an oil spill in the dim light, runes and markings along the outside of the shell. They hurt to look at.]
Y] If you wish to see me again, throw this shell into the largest body of water you can reach in a day’s walk under the light of the moon. I will see you, I will reach you. And we can talk. 
M] …thank you, Yth’Wa.
Y] May the Shattered Lord keep you and guide you. 
M] Let the…the Keeper of Yellow—- oh, god, what…what was that? I can taste it. 
[Yth’Wa laughs, leaning in further, teeth gleaming in the odd light.]
Y] Truth. Oh, Ms Hendricks. You’ve tasted truth. 
(Buy the poster here!)
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spacelazarwolf · 10 months
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Hey, I saw a post from another tumblr user that you are a Zionist and spreading false info about Jewish people being excluded from pride parades and I don't know what a Zionist is (they just said it was nationalist) but I enjoy your blog and wanted to ask you about it directly to understand better whats going on if thats okay? Im not anonymous in case you want to privately answer or tell me youd not want to discuss. 💕
first, i wanna thank you for being respectful about this, and for asking this off anon. this tells me you're asking in good faith, so i'm happy to answer.
i've had to state numerous times on my blog that i'm not a zionist bc people love to slap that label on any jew they disagree with, which is exactly what's happening in this situation. they disagreed with what i said about a lot of jews not feeling comfortable at pride because of the pervasive antisemitism in queer spaces, and several queer events banning the jewish pride flag because it "looked too similar to the israeli flag" and decided that made me a zionist. it happens a lot bc ppl know that that word is very taboo in activist spaces, and labeling you a zionist is a surefire way to get you kicked out of a lot of progressive circles. interestingly (said with a huge dollop of sarcasm) this rarely happens to gentiles.
zionist is also a pretty useless word for determining what someone actually believes, because depending on who you ask their ideologies can range from "i think that jewish people should be able to live in the land that is currently israel and palestine alongside palestinians and other indigenous groups" to "i think that only jews should get to live in that area and we should kick everyone else out." and as you can imagine, there's lots of people like me who agree with the first statement but vehemently disagree with the second. it's become somewhat of a dogwhistle, to the point that alt righters popularized "zio" as a slur, which was then picked up by leftists (because there is also a huge problem with antisemitism in leftist and non palestinian gentile-dominated antizionist spaces.) one of the events i mentioned in the first paragraph deleted a tweet using this slur.
the person you're probably talking about also claimed that i, a genderqueer trans man, am a misogynist, because i said that jewish masculinity is very culturally different from white masculinity and that i find a lot of comfort in it. they cited a bunch of problems with misogyny within the orthodox community, despite the fact i'm not orthodox or even ashkenazi. what it boiled down to is that they disagree with the takes i have on anti transmasculinity, and they needed something else to pin it on.
so in the future, if you see someone accusing a jew of being a zionist, take everything they have to say with a bucket full of salt and do as you did with this ask and go ask the person what they actually believe. sometimes you'll find their beliefs actually don't line up with your morals and you can unfollow, but the vast majority of the time you'll find that they just said something someone didn't like and it was the easiest way to discredit them.
in general, i don't share my opinions about zionism/antizionism on tumblr because that's not what my blog is centered on, and also i oppose the expectation that jews should have to disclose our opinions on zionism in order for gentiles to determine whether or not we are worth listening to. i also have a lot of thoughts abt how the focus on anti-anything makes it easier for activists to weaponize that activism against marginalized people, but that's an entirely different post.
anyway, i hope that answers your question, and i will probably pin this ask somewhere on my blog since i have been asked this a few times now and it seems unavoidable since ppl just won't drop it.
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On My Vigilante Shit Again
Summary: At the High Lords Meeting, Rhys doesn't dress for friends-He's dressed for revenge.
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Read on AO3
Thank you @velidewrites for the moodboard!
Note: This is what should have happened post High Lords meeting and you can quote me on that
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“The moment you let him fuck you like an—”
Rhys was going to explode. Was going to kill him. Laws be damned, Rhys stared Tamlin down as he ripped through Tamlin’s feeble defenses and held his mind. Just his tongue, for now. But his mind was pliant, his will weak. Rhys could so easily rip his mind apart, make Tamlin beg and plead. Make him grovel before Feyre on his knees, head bowed so low he couldn’t breathe for the marble slammed against his nose.
Rhys’s hands shook under the table, his jaw clenched so painfully he could taste blood. Had he bitten his cheek or was he merely tasting what was to come? Even as he held Tamlin’s tongue, forcing the High Lord into silence, Rhys thought it wasn’t enough. This was merely a show to the five others watching what he was capable of should they test him.
Should they insult his mate, his wife, his life. Feyre was visibly shaken, freckles stark against her gray face. Her eyes were too bright and if he really parsed through the mingling scents of the room, he knew he’d smell salt gathering in the corners. Tamlin had succeeded in undermining her at her first meeting, at the first test of power and everyone knew it. Weakness wasn’t tolerated among High Lords and they’d be circling her like vultures now, looking for more cracks.
Rhys could kill them all. His eyes flicked toward Beron Vanserra, brown eyes locked firmly on Feyre. It was a dark impulse and yet…if they wanted to test him, he’d destroy all six of them and leave their territories in ruins as their ruthless courtiers fought and killed for power. He’d let them eat themselves alive and then sweet in benevolently and take all of Prythian for Feyre. He’d lay waste to the world and set all that power at her feet.
Did they not know what Rhys would do to keep the ones he loved safe? Happy? Rhys kept Tamlin’s tongue silent for the duration of the meeting with barely a second thought. But there, in the darkest recesses of his mind—the part Feyre never ventured, in part because she didn’t think to—Rhys knew what needed to happen next. And he knew how he’d justify it when the other High Lords came to him, furious and fearful.
Tamlin had opened the gates for Hybern. He was a traitor to them all. That’s what he’d say, anyway. Some of them might guess the true reasons—Helion, certainly, who had very loud fantasies about doing worse to Beron than Rhys intended to do to Tamlin. And some might not care very much at all so long as they were reassured they were in no danger. Tarquin and Thesan, certainly, would know he was a liar and not care—Tarquin especially. Though he wasn’t fond of either Rhys or Feyre, his anger for Tamlin burned so hot that Rhys had been able to feel it in the back of his throat.
Tamlin’s foolishness had cost him more lives than Tarquin was able to count. He wanted to see Tamlin punished, too, and couldn’t for the same reason none of them could—they were forbidden from interfering in the matters of other High Lords. Rhys simply didn’t care. Stalking the halls, he listened until he found Tamlin’s pathetic thoughts.
Where did you go? Feyre’s voice floated through his thoughts, her presence caressing his own as she asked for entrance.
Rhys had never once refused her, but he did then. Go back to sleep, my love. I’ll be back before you can miss me.
Rhys, her voice carried a warning, some of the sleepiness gone. Whatever you’re thinking—don’t. Come back to bed.
I can’t.
It was the truth. They could insult him. Call him a whore, a bastard, evil, Amarantha’s right hand—whatever they liked. Rhys didn’t care. Even if they said it in front of his family in their attempt to humiliate him, Rhys didn’t care. Let them say whatever they liked about him.
But how dare they say a word against Feyre. She was the reason they were able to speak freely at all. If Rhys had his way, they’d get on their knees and worship her like a goddess, not taunt her like she was lesser. 
Rhys!
Maybe it was better to let her see—not to shut her out, but to invite her into his mind. To let her see the lengths he’d go. He’d promised her he’d do this once, didn’t he? That he’d hurt anyone who hurt her and he’d take his time doing it. He’d enjoy it.
As Rhys turned the handle to Tamlin’s door, he dropped his defenses so Feyre could slip in. He could feel her peering through his eyes, settling softly just behind his eyes. Her presence was a comfort, reassuring him that this was the right thing to do.
Rhys found Tamlin standing by a window, hands folded behind his back. When Rhys slipped inside, Tamlin turned, green eyes glowing brightly for just a moment. 
“Have you come to gloat?” Tamlin asked, teeth sharpening ever so slightly.
“Not exactly,” Rhys replied, jamming his own hands in his pockets. 
Tamlin sighed, eyes rolling in his skull. “Have you come to defend your mates honor? Spare me—she has none.”
The hair on Rhys’s neck stood on end.
Don’t, Feyre pleaded softly, her voice a shade too high pitched for his liking. He’s not worth it. 
“She’s the reason you’re standing here,” Rhys reminded Tamlin, forcing himself to remain calm. If he alerted Tamlin to his plan, he wouldn’t get to say everything he needed to say. “You owe her your life.”
“I’ve given her enough—”
“You’ve given her nothing,” Rhys snarled, his magic swirling around him like furious vipers. Tamlin didn’t blink, didn’t blanche, thinking incorrectly that Rhys was all talk and no action. 
“Are you angry about what I said or angry I had her first?” Tamlin spat, a fool to the very end. 
“When I found her locked in your home, it was only her love for you that spared you. I would have ripped you apart piece by piece otherwise.”
Tamlin turned back to the window. “She’ll betray you, too. Feyre isn’t capable of loving anything or anyone but herself and her power.”
Rhys’s stomach twisted in knots. 
“She died for you. For that love.”
“And I tried to make it up to her—”
“You locked her away like a trinket!” Rhys snarled again as Feyre pushed closer against him, talons stroking against his mind lovingly. “You were satisfied to let her waste away so long as she warmed your bed at night. If that’s love, well. I’d say I shudder to think what your hatred feels like, but I am intimately aware of how hateful you can be.”
Tamlin only sighed. “When she leaves you—and she will—I’ll be waiting for your apology.”
Rhys raised a hand as Feyre gasped softly in his mind, understanding right then what he truly intended to do. Tamlin, too, realized the danger he was in. It was too late. Immobile, Tamlin’s eyes widened as Rhys cocked his head to the side.
“You can wait for that apology in the afterlife and we’ll see, when I arrive, who was right.”
“Rhys—!” Feyre burst into the room a mere second before Rhys snapped his fingers. Blood sprayed through the room, coating not just his skin, but Feyre’s too. Where Tamlin had once stood, now there were merely the remnants of a male who’d lived a pathetic half life unworthy of memorial. 
Feyre turned, still in her silken nightdress, eyes wide. “You…”
Rhys didn’t dare back down, though he felt a sliver of genuine fear. “Yes.”
“You shouldn’t…you didn’t…” Her eyes welled with tears as she approached him. Raising a hand, Rhys flinched, expecting her to slap him. Maybe that’s what he deserved.
Soft fingers caressed his jaw. “Thank you,” she whispered. Rhys exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 
“You’re not angry?” he asked carefully, eyes darting around the room. There was something delicious about his mate soaked in the blood of his greatest enemy. He wanted to strip her naked and lick her clean. 
“No one has ever had me,” she whispered, inching closer. The scent of her arousal slammed into him, nearly knocking him to the floor. “Not like you.”
That was all he needed to hear. Just the knowledge that she could see his worst, ugliest impulses and still love him for it was enough. Rhys needed her right then, so badly he was unwilling to even make the walk back to their shared bed chamber. She knew it, too.
Feyre surged upward on her tiptoes, their mouths crashing in a symphony of heat. Rhys groaned, snaking an arm around her waist to pull her flush against him. 
“I need you,” he told her, unable to add that what he needed was for her to confirm what he already knew to be true. They belonged together—he’d waited his whole life for her, would have waited centuries more. And it had all been worth it, in the end—to know it was her on the other end of all those sleepless nights, the years of misery, the loneliness that had plagued him. No one understood him the way she did, had ever truly looked at his very soul and found it beautiful rather than horrifying.
“You have me,” she told him, arching her neck so he could scrape his teeth against her soft, sensitive skin. “I’m never leaving.”
What would she say if she realized he wouldn’t let her leave? That his hatred of Tamlin was almost unjustified because Rhys understood why someone would want to lock her away and keep her all for themselves. Rhys felt the same urge, felt the same drive to snarl and snap at every male that dared to look at her without showing the proper reverence. They were too casual about her, didn’t venerate her the way they should. Feyre was more than just High Lady—she was a living goddess, the Cursebreaker herself. 
“Fuck,” Rhys groaned, tongue licking a path down her throat to taste the blood adorning her skin like rubies. If Rhys had known she’d taste so good coated in another male's blood, he’d have killed Tamlin at their wedding. That scrap of silk was soaked and when Rhys ripped it away, he found the skin beneath stained red, too. Rhys needed her more than he needed anything else.
They’d condemn him for this. When they found the remnants of Tamlin, they’d smell his arousal and what he’d done atop the bits that remained. Rhys didn’t care—he hoped Tamlin’s soul lingered so he could watch how well Rhys fucked Feyre. And if Tamlin were still alive, Rhys might have told him that he’d fucked Feyre so thoroughly she had no memory of his pathetic attempts at satisfying her.
You were inadequate, Rhys wished he could say. The problem was always you and never her. 
“I can hear your thoughts,” Feyre complained as Rhys sank to his knees. “Stop thinking about Tamlin and your witty comebacks.”
“I have so many things I didn’t get to say,” Rhys complained, pushing her gently against the very same bloodstained window Tamlin had been brooding beside mere minutes before. 
“You can say them at his grave,” she reminded him. 
“You’re so brilliant,” Rhys praised. “And beautiful. And you taste…”
He had his face between her legs as he spoke the words, raising one slim leg to hook it over his shoulders. Feyre exhaled, leaning her head back so her thick hair spilled over her shoulders, the tips teasing peaked, rosy nipples. 
Rhys almost stood back up but Feyre, the clever thing, pushed his head back down. “Focus,” she whispered. He’d forgotten she was still in his mind, listening to his thoughts and watching through his eyes.
“Can you feel how badly I want you?” he whispered, letting his breath curl like shadows against her wet cunt.
“Yes,” she panted, nails scraping over his scalp. 
Rhys let go of his power, drowning the two of them in darkness. His wings flared outward, enveloping the both until she was hidden from the world unless someone happened to be flying by the window her ass was pressed against. Feyre moaned loudly, unconcerned about anyone else hearing. Good. Rhys wanted her screams to echo off the vaulted ceilings, to keep them all awake. Let them hear—let them know how far Rhys would take it. That the true power in his home was Feyre herself.
Feyre was High Lady and Rhys was her sharpened blade. 
Rhys licked up the side of the thigh, cleaning the blood before switching to the other. Feyre was practically trembling by the time he reached her center, the taste of copper mingling with the sweetness of her arousal. Rhys reached upward, using his strength to hold her so she could relax and, perhaps selfishly, so he could spread her further apart. He liked to see her flushed pink with arousal, liked to tease her with his fingers without wholly penetrating her. He wanted her desperate for his cock by the time he finished with her. Rhys teased her with his thumbs, pulling her cunt apart to rub her clit with his fingers and his tongue while Feyre writhed over him, gripping his hair so roughly she was in danger of ripping them out by the roots. Rhys was so aroused it was making him stupid, the throbbing between his legs almost painful.
But he needed to do this. Needed her to see him on his knees before her, worshiping her the way the rest of the world refused to. Besides, the taste of her was soothing something wicked and angry in his chest, calming the raging beast threatening to go on a rampage.
Feyre’s breath hitched in her chest, her free hand coming to his shoulder to stroke the edge of his wing just the way he liked. He didn’t need her to touch his cock at all to come—if she kept her cunt in his face and her hands on his wings Rhys would be spent before he ever had her grinding against him.
Still, Rhys began to work faster, tongue flat against her just the way he knew she liked. Feyre began rolling her hips against him, her orgasm building. Ride her through it—that’s all he had to do, now. Rhys liked when she used him like this, taking her pleasure without concern as to what he thought about her. Daring to press into her mind, Feyre’s arousal slammed into him with enough force to nearly knock him on his ass. 
Her thoughts were a mindless chant of one word—Rhys, Rhys, Rhys, Rhys, Rhys—
If he hadn’t been so turned on, he might have wept. Unwilling to disappoint her in the final moments before she fell over that ledge, Rhys doubled his efforts, looking up as he licked her to watch her come. Feyre was radiant, glowing like silvery moonlight as she fell apart. Head thrown back, breasts arched toward the ceiling and her skin flushed, Rhys wished he could paint so she could see herself the way he did.
“Stop,” she panted, fingers sliding from his hair to cup his face. “I can hear you, I—”
“I need you,” was all he could manage to say. He could have laid her out on the bed if he’d wanted to, taken his time. But Rhys didn’t want to. He wanted her right then, right now, and he’d have her against that window or not at all.
Feyre clawed at his clothes, drawing forth a talon to slice open his shirt. Rhys didn’t want to think about the walk of shame the pair were going to have to undertake when they were finished. Perhaps he’d call Cassian and beg his friend for a favor and endure the inevitable teasing that would happen in the aftermath. It was well worth it—Rhys couldn’t wait to tell Azriel, Mor, and Cassian that he’d slaughtered Cassian. Unlike the rest of the ruling elite, his friends would find it funny.
“Now,” Rhys told Feyre, hoisting her up so her back was flat against the window. He offered no other warning before he slid his aching cock into her body. Rhys nearly lost himself, rutting into
Feyre like the animal Tamlin claimed he was without a care or concern for the female pressed against him. Her body gripped him so tightly, still convulsing from the orgasm he’d given her with his mouth. 
“You’re so fucking tight,” Rhys whispered, biting gently against her shoulder. “Sometimes I think you were sent to destroy me.”
“You should have run from me, then,” Feyre replied as she raked her nails down his back.
“Dying at your hands would be a gift,” he said, half delirious from pleasure. All Rhys could focus on were his hips, thrusting hard enough that the window rattled in time behind them. His words were merely his unfiltered thoughts given voice because Rhys had never learned when to shut his mouth. 
“There will be no death for you,” Feyre told him, lips gliding over his jaw. “Only me.”
Rhys shuddered, holding her so tightly against him he felt her ribs groan in protest. He needed her like he needed the air in his lungs, the sun on his skin, the wind on his wings. How had he managed so long without her? Rhys could barely remember that time before, the memories tinged gray with loss. 
How much different would every horror have been if he’d had her at his side? If he knew she was at his back, bow pulled taut, gaze focused and lethal on his enemies? Rhys tried to imagine Feyre going up against his father, against Amarantha in the first war, against Tamlin and his family.
His breath stuttered at the image. Gods, they would have been unstoppable. 
“Rhys,” Feyre breathed, holding his face so he had to look at her. “Come for me.”
Rhys was everything Tamlin accused him of being, but without any shame. He was fucking her like an animal because that was how Feyre liked it. She panted, nails clawing at his tattooed skin until the smell of his fresh blood mingled in the air. He was desperate and needed to feel her come again, wanted her wrapped so tight around his cock he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, could do nothing but wait until she released him.
Snaking a hand between them, Rhys rubbed circles over her clit—it took two, maybe three before Feyre cried out, allowing Rhys the pleasure of capturing the sound with his tongue and teeth. 
Taste yourself, he ordered, thrusting into her with brutal efficiency. Feyre was pliant in his arms, her cunt just as tight as he’d hoped it would be and twice as wet. Rhys couldn’t have stopped himself even if he wanted to, coming with a snarl so loud there was no way everyone in the hall didn’t hear him.
Rhys poured himself into her, half wishing something would take. He didn’t want to stop, even when he was spent, balls empty. He could have kept going if he took a minute to catch his breath.
Feyre, too, seemed to be thinking the same thing.
“You’re so beautiful covered in blood,” she murmured, brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes.
Rhys suddenly didn’t care if someone watched him carry Feyre naked through the palace. Fuck everyone.
“Come on,” he purred, pressing a soft kiss just beneath her ear. “Let's get you to bed.”
129 notes · View notes
astaroth1357 · 1 year
Note
That 'Realistic' Summoning act was done very amazingly, it all seems like summoning them is something you should do when you're smart and at the very end of your rope.
Is it alright if we ask how things differ if MC summons them?
Or if a Witch has MC with them for the summoning? (Either as a Friend Way or they Kidnapped them, whatever you feel like you would want to talk about :3
And if not that's fine too!
It's always a joy reading your stuff! )
Ooooh, I like the way you think! 😌
Why MC Can't Have Witch Friends
Building off of my Summoning Headcanons here.
Contents: MC has "Main Character Syndrome" and is always the exception to the rule... most of the time. Very LONG post (because I didn't want to post like three then deal with requests for all of the rest. My inbox still scares me lol)
Scenario: While training in more advanced magic with Solomon, MC made a normal witch friend as a study buddy/fellow intern! Comedy ensures.
~♡♡♡~
MC Summoning Lucifer
*it's 2am on a Wednesday but MC and their witch buddy are just now leaving their alchemy laboratory after cramming for another one of Solomon's tests. Much to their dismay, they see it's raining outside, with water just pelting the pavement outside the windows*
Witch: Seriously?? This wasn’t in the forecast this morning!
MC: *glares at the droplet-coated glass then glances down at the books in their hands* You gotta be kidding...! If I get these tomes wet, Solomon'll kill me...
Witch: That's true, but I mean it's not that bad. I think I know a spell or two that could... Wait, what are you doing...?
*the MC looks away from the phone they were furiously texting on as their friend was speaking*
MC: Hm? Oh! I'm just seeing if anyone can bring me an umbrella.
Witch: You would make someone drive all the way out here just for that...? 🤨
MC: *blinks* Huh? Drive? Oh no, that's not necessary- *their phone dings and they wave it triumphantly* Ah! There we go!
*the MC slides their phone into their pocket before pulling out a stick of chalk from their summoning supplies. Their friend watches with confusion as they begin to draw a circle on the ground, but it quickly escalates to full-blown panic the more that gets filled in*
Witch: Oh. My. Word. What do you think you're doing!?!
*MC looks up from their half completed Pride sigil just in time to see their friend diving for cover behind a stairwell*
MC: W-whoa, whoa, what's wrong???
Witch: *points at the sigil* If that's going to summon who I think it is, then what the HELL is wrong with you?? Are you trying to get us killed?! You don't even have an offering!!
*the MC looks utterly mystified as their buddy struggles to at least find their purifying salts*
MC: What? Killed?? Oh no, I know what I'm doing! I've done this hundreds of times, see just watch!
Witch: WHAT-
*the MC completes the sigil and it starts to glow bright blue against the tile floor. They get back to their feet as their friend screams in terror but rather than the rage-filled beast of Pride bursting forth from the ground, a frankly tired-looking man in barely-wrinkled silk pajamas pops into existence holding out a red umbrella...*
Lucifer: *grouchily narrows his baggy eyes at MC as they take the umbrella from his grasp* Should I even have to tell you to be more careful next time...?
MC: *frowns right back and brushes some lint off of his shoulder* I dunno, should I have to tell you to go to bed before midnight?
Lucifer: MC, don't start pushing me today...
*even though it should sound like a warning, Lucifer's voice seems more exhausted than anything, which softens the MC's expression considerably*
MC: Oh, Lu....
*they pull the haggered demon into their arms. running their fingers through his hair and earning a small grunt of satisfaction from him as he melts into their touch*
MC: Thank you for the umbrella, but you didn't have to bring it if you're this tired... Go get some rest, okay?
*Lucifer only grunts again before placing a sleepy kiss on the side of their head. He grumbles out something along the lines of, "Keep safe," before disappearing in a puff of white smoke and black feathers. While the MC inspects their newly acquired umbrella, they hear the sound of their friend scrambling out from behind the stairs, practically tripping over themselves trying to get back to their feet*
Witch: What thE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT!?!
MC Summoning Mammon
*MC and their witchy pal are in the kitchen of their shared apartment looking over some old notebooks that Solomon gave them, most of them holding transcribed stories or old conversations with the Demon Brothers. One story in particular has been especially... perplexing to them for about ten minutes now*
Witch: "-and then the secondborn trembled before the mighty thirdborn's trident as he brought it low upon his..." *glances at MC*
Witch: "his, uh..." MC?
MC: *sitting there, staring at the notepage with pursed lips*
Witch: MC, is something wrong?
MC: Wha- *they pull their eyes away from the neatly penned words then force a quick smile* Oh, no no. It's nothing. It just... this account feels a little off is all.
Witch: Really? Didn't Solomon say that he got it from one of the Demon Lords himself...?
MC: Yeah but... You know, I think we should get a second opinion on this. *they start looking for their summoning tools to find their chalk once again* I'm going to bring out Mammon.
Witch: What?? You want to call upon Mammon right now?! *their hand instinctively goes down to guard their wallet* But we could barely afford takeout last night!! 😫
MC: *frowns at them in confusion yet again* Uh... I know that? Mammon will eat leftovers as long as we heat it up right.
Witch: *jaw drops with a pop* Th-at... That wasn't what I meant...! I mean, how the heck are you going to pay his "entrance fee" with just 20 bucks to our name??
MC: *eyes widen sharply* Oh. My. God. You're absolutely right...
Witch: Thank you! Now if you just put the bag down-
MC: I totally forgot about Mammon's gift!!
Witch: His... his what?
MC: His gift!
*MC opens their backpack digs in past the zipper. After a few seconds, they pull up a small, cutesy keychain made with black beads and a crow-shaped pendant*
MC: I found this little thing while we were thrift shopping downtown. Isn't it just the cutest??
Witch: *stares at the dinky little trinket in their hand with growing concern* 😟 U-uh... It's uhm... Uh-
MC: Look, I know what you're thinking-
Witch: -Do you really??-
MC: -but don't worry! *they lift up their phone to show a similarly styled chain hanging from the case, but white instead of black*
MC: They had a matching pair! I know he's going to love it. I'll get him out here in just a second.
*the MC gets up with their chalk while their witch friend watches them go, muttering dejectedly*
Witch: Please don't tell me that actually works for you... How in the world does that actually work for you?? 😰
MC Summoning Levi
Witch: DAMMIT!!
*the shout of their witchy pal reverberates off the drabe apartment walls, sending MC out of their bedroom to investigate shortly after*
MC: What? What's wrong??
*they come over just in time to see their friend toss a ruined cloak onto the couch. The poor garment looks like it's been torn to pieces by a pack of animals, though their friend appears miraculously unscathed*
Witch: I ran into some of Solomon's missing hellhounds on the way home and had to use my cloak as a diversion. Just look what those little hellions did to it!!
*as their pal begins to mourn their favorite accessory, MC takes a couple long looks at it before waving their hand dismissively*
MC: Hey, don't worry about it. I've got a guy just for this!
Witch: A "guy"...? You know a tailor?
MC: Er... Well not exactly. Whenever I need something sewn up, I just call Leviathan.
Witch: ......
Witch: The...
Witch: The Grand Admiral of Hell's Royal Navy...
Witch: ... sews your clothes...?
MC: *blinks then flushes a bit* W-well not all of my clothes... But, you know, if I need something mended he usually lends a hand...
Witch: I didn't even know he could sew...
MC: Well, Levi's actually very talented in a lot of things! I'll even show you, just, uh...
Witch: Just... what? 🤨
MC: Well he's is pretty shy, so let me do most of the talking... And try not to look at him for too long, but also don't actively avoid looking at him either. And I know it's going to be hard, but try to keep up if he gets on one of his tangents because it really means a lot to him when people listen... Oh, and-!
Witch: What are you, his therapist??
MC: *shrugs* Kinda. I'll go get the chalk.
MC Summoning Satan
*MC and their witchy pal are in an out of the way bookstore specifically for esoteric relics and forbidden magical collections. It's an amazing little place, but it's chock full of shelves upon shelves of impossible to decipher titles and mindbending illustrations that have left the two feeling hopelessly lost...*
Witch: This is taking forever... How the hell does Solomon expect us to find anything in here??
*they look down at the small list of books their less-than-prescient mentor asked for, most of which with titles like "Cgfthgnm'o'th" or "Ghatanothoa"*
Witch: I mean, is this an errand or a C-tier fetch quest...??
MC: Ugh!... I swear Solomon knows that I'm no good in these places... Let's see.
*MC sets their summoning supplies down on a nearby table to look for their chalk and, for once, their friend actually seems kind of relieved to have the short-cut...*
Witch: Are you calling for Lucifer again...?
MC: Hm? Oh no, I think I've heard Satan talk about this place before, so maybe-
Witch: 😳 Hold on. Do... you mean that Satan?? THE Satan???
MC: *blinks* Uh... Yeah? Is there another one or...?
Witch: "Is there another one?" Are you for real?? How do I look? Is this presentable?? Shit, is it true that he hates the color red?!
MC: Where did you...? I mean, he likes green, I guess but I don't see-
Witch: WAIT, don't bring him out yet, we need a cat!! I think the café down the street attracts a few strays. I'll go grab one and come right back!!
MC: *holds up their hands to try and keep their friend from running past them* Hold on, we don't need any of that! What has gotten-??
*the MC yelps as the witch grabs them by the front of their shirt and grips the fabric tight, a burning look of determination setting their eyes ablaze*
Witch: MC, DO NOT ruin this for me!! Do you have any idea how well-connected that guy is? How many covens would kill just have someone around who's on his good side?? If this is the first impression I'm going to make, it's going to be a damn good one!
*they let the MC go only to snatch their summoning bag from the table beside them and stuff it under their arm*
Witch: I'll be taking this and you stay right here! I'll bring everything back after I go change into something green and find a spare cat!!
*as they watch their pal sprint out the door with what was effectively their only means of physical communication with the boys, the MC takes a seat at a dusty table and rests their elbows on the surface*
MC: I guess Solomon is getting those books a little late now... 😕
MC Summoning Asmo
MC: Ow!!
*the MC and their witch friend have JUST finished washing up Solomon's experiment beakers and half-eaten plates from his lab, the latter of which look so disgusting you could mistake them for old petri dishes. As the MC dries off the last glass and goes to slide it in place, they miscalculate their finger position and jam their nail right into a stack of ceramic plates*
*they pull their hand back out and they're previously trimmed nail is now broken into a sharp, jagged mess...*
MC: Oh dammit...! I just broke a nail...
*while they inspect the damage, their buddy slides next to them to look at it over their shoulder*
Witch: Huh...
Witch: Let me guess, you're going to call on ASMODEUS HIMSELF to fix it, aren't you? 🙄
MC: What?? No, of course not! I have my own kit for this, thank you very much. 😠
*their friend's eyebrows raise, almost like their impressed that MC is showing at least a modicum of self-restraint*
Witch: Well, well. I didn't think you woul-
MC: Though it IS almost time for him to give me my bi-monthly skin detox treatment so... 🤔
Witch: Are you kidding me??? 🤬
MC Summoning Beel
*the MC and their witching buddy FINALLY have a day off from Solomon's constant pestering lessons. While they discuss their upcoming plans, the news of a big human world fair in the area comes up. Though their friend seems less than impressed, MC immediately latches onto the idea for uh... reasons.*
MC: Okay, okay, I know this how this is gonna sound, buuuut we should invite Beelzebub to go to the fair with us!! 😁
Witch: ....
MC: 😀 .... So, yeah? Is that a yes?
Witch: .... MC. I swear, even you have to know why that's a bad idea... No mortal event is ever going be stocked enough to keep him from eating us-
MC: *GASP* WHAT??
MC: Beel? Eat US?? In a place with that many vendors, that'll be so unlikely. I'm sure we'll be safe!
Witch: Annnnd I just noticed that you left out the part where you're supposed to say, "Oh, he would never do that" to reassure me....
MC: Oh come on, I'm positive that he wouldn’t want to eat us, at least. He's a big softy and he really tries to keep himself in check...
Witch: I fail to see how that makes things any better...
MC: It will. Trust me. Look, Lucifer can send me enough pocket money to keep Beel fed while we're there. Pleeease, just give it a try...!
MC: I've been telling him about cotton candy and funnel cakes for years! He'll be so excited to come with so pleeeaaaase? 🥺
Witch: I think I'm starting to see why they keep caving in to you so quickly.... 😑
MC Summoning Belphie
*it's been several long nights in the shared apartment as MC and their witchy pal have been cramming for another one of Solomon's infamous tests... Despite having the test in the morning, both have long let time get away from them and neither were particularly well-rested to start with...*
MC: Shit, it's almost 2 again...
Witch: Seriously...? *checks the closest clock then snaps their book shut* Great... I think know a restorative spell or two, but there's not a lot of time to... *they stop as they see a sleepy MC reaching for their goddamn chalk again*
Witch: ... Uh, MC?
MC: Mmm...? *they blink their drooping eyes and yawn* O-oh, sorry... uh. Don’t worry about me... I got a guy for this too...
Witch: *frowns* You've got a...?
Witch: 😳 ... No... No, you can't be serious... You are NOT thinking of who I'm thinking of right now, right? Right??
MC: *rubs their eyes* Eh? Um... no? Maybe?
Witch: Do NOT summon Belphegor! No one ever summons Belphegor!! Especially to go to sleep at night!!
MC: Huh...? 😕 Why not? Isn't sleep what he's good at...?
Witch: Yeah sure, if you're looking to never wake up again! Drink some sleepy time tea or something, but keep Belphegor out if it! You're going to get yourself killed!!
MC: What do you...? *they blink then, suddenly, it actually seems to piece together for them for once* Oh. Oh! You must mean that Belphegor...
MC: Don't worry, he promised to never kill me again, so I'm safe.
Witch: That's not the-wait did you just say "again?"
MC: I'm going to bed now. Goodnight...
*the MC gets up and starts back towards their room without answering the question and their roommate calls after them*
Witch: Don't bring him or I'm taking selfies at your funeral, you hear??
~The Next Morning~
*their witch friend steps out into the kitchen, completely drained after having some AWFUL dreams the night before, just to see a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed MC in the middle of making breakfast. Their newly refreshed look is so radiant that they're practically glowing with health*
MC: Good morning~!! Would you like some pancakes? 😊
Witch: ..... I'm trying so hard not to hate you right now.....
MC: H-huh? Why?? 😨
MC Summoning Diavolo??
Witch: So... Could you do it?
*MC and their witch buddy are sitting on the floor of their living room with MC's summoning equipment in front of them. Both of them have their arms crossed as they run through their hypothetical*
MC: I mean, maybe I could... But I dunno. I not even sure where to start...
Witch: MC. You are probably the most successful summoner I've ever seen. I say just go with your gut.
MC: Oh? My gut, huh...? 🤔
*after some quiet reflection, MC grabs their chalk and begins to sketch out a new circle, making it a much larger one than all the rest*
MC: Let's see... we'd need a sigil so.
*they swipe in three long slash marks, then fill them out until look like taloned legs, humming as they go*
Witch: *frowns* Uh... MC? Isn't that just the corporate logo for the Three-Legged Crow?
MC: Yep! I figured since Dia owns the place, it should probably work. 😁
Witch: *blinks furiously* Wait, he owns what-
MC: Forget I said that. Anyway. Now we need the offering! Uhhhmm... *they tap their chin before breaking into an excited grin*
MC: I'll go get some McDonald's!
Witch: What???
MC: Dia loves human world fast food when he can have it, so that ought to work! *they start to gather their things to go out, but stop just before the door*
MC: Oh! While I'm gone, look around my room for my copy of Dark Persona 4! Levi says he's been getting into that series a lot.
Witch: He plays video games too???
MC: Only when he can! Just trust me, I'll be right back! 😁
~Twenty minutes and three orders of cheeseburgers later~
MC: Okay! Almost ready!
*they take a proud step back from their work of ritualistically arranging cheeseburgers, french fries, and ketchup packets on the makeshift summoning circle and... it sure is something. Just as their witch friend is starting to lose all hope that this idea could ever hold water, the MC goes on to add the final touch by plopping the Devil Station game right in the middle of it all. They take one BIG step back and....*
*...nothing happens*
Witch: .... Huh. Well. I guess there's stuff even you can't do-
*the markings on the ground suddenly radiate a light brighter than the sun that gets snuffed out by the growing shadows in the room. It's as if every ounce of darkness surrounding them is attempting to funnel its way towards circle's center, swirling in place like an inky black portal to the hellish depths below. Just as the MC and their friend dive behind their couch for protection, the darkness suddenly dissipates and everything, surprisingly, returns to normal*
Witch: *shakily looks at the wrecked room from behind the couch cushions, pale as could be* ... Wh-wha... what... the fuuu...
*MC's phone starts going off, startling them both, but they pick it up anyway*
MC: H-ello...? O-oh Dia!!
MC: No, no I'm fine there isn't any emergency!...
MC: No, please stay put!! I was just messing around with a friend, but I'll be way more careful going forward!
MC: .... And what would Barbs say?
MC: .... Yeah, I didn't think so, but I'll come back to see you soon, okay?
Witch: *springs to their feet reaching PEAK frustration with it all*
Witch: SERIOUSLY, WHAT EVEN ARE YOU?!?
MC Summoning... Barbatos...?
Witch: MC. This is an emergency.
MC: Yeah but-
Witch: He'll be here any minute. We're screwed!!
MC: Maybe it won't be so bad-!
Witch: I saw him buying JELLYFISH yesterday, MC! JELLYFISH!!!
MC: ..... 😨 What if we disconnect the stove???
Witch: MC!!!
*their friend pulls out their own summoning chalk and shoves it into MC's hands, clasping them closed in a desperate plea for help*
Witch: We have to some kind of meal plan in place or Solomon is going to make us dinner tonight. You know and I know that there's only ONE person who can keep him out of the kitchen at this point. MC, you have to summon Barbatos!!
MC: B-but...! But-!!
*their friend doesn't wait for them to finish before pulling them down onto the ground and making enough room for them to start drawing*
Witch: THERE'S NO TIME!! Do it, MC!! Do it!!
*they lean back to watch as the MC rests th summoning chalk on the ground, but rather than drawing their hand remains perfectly still...*
Witch: MC? What are you waiting for??
*their friend leans over to get a good look at their face, and they see that the MC's forehead is already glistening with beads of sweat... Their hand goes from still, to trembling slightly when they attempt to make their first stroke... only for their grip to snap the chalk in half completely. The MC stares quietly at their hand for a few moments, before setting everything down and pulling out their cellphone instead*
MC: Y-you know, I think I'm just going to call him.... 😥
*as their witch friend watches the being who hugged Lucifer, tamed Belphegor, and (unofficially) summoned the Demon Prince himself, chicken out of summoning this one last demon they know, a single question burns deep down in the pit of their stomach*
"Just how scary is that butler...???" 😰
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luvvyouforever · 3 months
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rhys and john keats - modern au!rhysand x college student!reader ❥
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↳ reader can barely handle the weight of college but rhysand is there to pick her up and help the pain.
↳ so self indulgent it hurts. set in a modern age where reader is a college student but rhysand is still high lord? idk honestly. mentions of stress, self doubt, comfort, crying. my day-to-day life essentially.
↳ requests are open! check characters in pinned post and link for requests is in my bio :)
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the living room of your shared apartment with rhysand is a sight to behold. papers, printed copies of poems, books, pens, highlighters, and three energy drinks enclose you in a circular shape. it's horrifying and the sight is not eased by your messy hair, dark circles, and tear-stained cheeks. the semester was getting to you, clearly.
three papers were due for one class in the next two weeks. six quizzes were on the agenda and you had easily ten multiple page texts to read before class at 9am the following monday.
it had never been this stressful before but your time in college was coming to an end and that only ramped up the amount of work you had to complete. your final few semesters were certain to end you and you'd never get to walk across that stage to receive a blank page of paper which would eventually be replaced with your actual diploma. that's how it felt, at least.
minutes full of agony passed until you heard the familiar flapping of strong wings on the balcony. you didn't move from your sitting position as rhysand sauntered into the room, smile so wide it reached his violet eyes.
"my dear y/n," he whispered. his voice was so sweet that another tear forced its way out of your eye and down your cheek again. he must have sensed it, the stress pouring down your bond, or maybe he could somehow smell the salt of the tear as it dripped onto the page in your lap. he knelt down to meet your face and he pouted. "what's going on, darling?"
for the first time that night, you tore your gaze away from your work and met his eyes. "there's too much," you mumbled with a watery voice. "i can't do this."
he made a click with his tongue while examining the piles of work on the floor. his fingers lifted the assignment prompts and poems and syllabus requirements. more tears fell and you silently cursed each and every one of them.
"why can't you do it? what's challenging you?" he asked gently. it was not meant to condescend but he was trying to figure out how to help you in the best way possible.
"i feel like the analyses i'm coming up with are dumb, i don't understand the lines, the rhyme scheme is stupid, and i don't know what my thesis is for a moronic paper on keats should be. it's stupid and dumb and i'm stupid and dumb."
rhysand moved his hands to your cheeks before you could even react and pulled your face to meet his strong eye contact. his purple eyes bore into yours and he poured liters of reassurance down the bond. that mental claw in his head brushed against your mind in a calming manner. "do not say words like that, my love. you are so intelligent. and you're fully capable of managing everything on your plate."
you sniffed, feeling pathetic in his strong gaze. "i don't feel that way, though. i don't know how to deal with this stress, rhys. it's impossible. it's like this huge tower looming before me and i'm being asked to climb every single step in the best possible way or else i'll be pushed off of the top."
rhysand breathed out a sigh and his hand found your own. "i'm gonna help you climb that tower, okay?" he grabbed a brightly annotated copy of a keats poem and read over it.
"have you even read keats? or dickinson? do you know what a thesis statement is?" you asked. there was a bite to your words but it didn't faze rhysand in the slightest.
"of course i do, love. what do you think i do in my spare time when i'm not being an expert ruler? there's a small section i had put in the library, down on one of the lower floors, and it's full of human books. there's anthologies of authors, textbooks on writing, math theory, whatever you want, it's there. and i've perused it all. this poem-" he held up the printed keats "-is one of my favorites.
"so, the way i interpret this poem is that in order to withstand and stay strong in the face of suffering, we should indulge in poetry, beauty, and art. don't you think so?" he began to recite some lines which resembled this theme and suddenly, it all made sense.
he did that two more times with the other texts you had to write about. everything connected when he taught it and read it. you now had three outlines completed with well-developed thesis statements, annotated stories and poems for discussion, and three out of six quizzes were completed.
"thank you," you said, pouring as much love through your bond as you could. "really, thank you. this means so much to me."
"of course, my dear. shall i put on a sweater vest and glasses and replace your professor from here on out?"
you giggled and finally stood from the floor. the two of you walked into the kitchen to begin making a nutritious, filling dinner with your favorite velaris-sourced wine. "i would absolutely take you up on that offer if it didn't mean everyone in the class would be vying for your attention."
rhysand's arms wrapped around your midsection while you prepared food for dinner. his head leaned forward so that his mouth was by your ear. "i only have eyes for the smartest person in class."
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can you tell i'm an english major? this is all very self-insert, i read the keats poem i talked about like two weeks ago :p
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AITA for yelling at my mom because of incense?💭
( emoji so I can recognise my submission and this is a hella long post so be warned)
So I (16F) really hate smoke. And I mean beyond the regular hate, I mean like the moment I smell smoke I instantly become very, very angry. I'm not sure why exactly, I suspect it might be because I'm on the autism spectrum but I haven't been officially diagnosed so take this with a grain of salt. Also just to clarify, I have no lung issues which would cause me to be extra effected by smoke, it's almost entirely psychological.
My mom (50F) got into this whole spiritual circle stuff about a year ago and does meditation thingies. Involves a lot of rituals, crystals and incense. Not entirely sure the exact reason why but the important thing is this means she is lighting incense almost everyday. As a result, on most days the house smells like smoke. I have told her quite a few times to ventilate properly if she's going to use it but I feel like every time I enter the main room of the house it smells like smoke. However I can manage this by simply shutting my door to avoid getting a lungful of smoke. No, the thing that pisses me off are her "cleansing sessions." This is where she goes through the house waving an incense stick everywhere to "purify the bad spirits." This means I have absolutely nowhere in the house to escape from the smoke and often get forced outside to escape. I have tolerated these "cleansing sessions" a few times but on the most recent one, it happened to be raining extremely heavily. This meant that I was stuck. In a house FILLED with the smell of smoke.
I tried to keep myself calm for a while by ventilating the smoke from under a blanket but even then I could still smell it and it made me raging mad. So I then proceeded to stomp up to my mom and yelled at her. I said some very nasty things which I'm not proud of saying. They were very personal insults mostly pertaining to how her beliefs were bullshit and about her insecurities. We had a shouting match over it which ended in her telling me to go back to my room.
Why I think I could be the asshole here is because:
A. I could have more clearly stated beforehand that I wanted her to stop cleansing my room or at the very least she needs to turn the aircon on when she burns incense.
B. She didn't really deserve the things I said to her. She's a sensitive person and I know it probably deeply hurt her even if she didn't act like it in the moment.
C. I didn't mention it earlier but I have a brother (17M) who has athsma. He has never had any problem breathing or any complaints about my mom burning incense. If anyone would be affected by this the most it would be him and yet he doesn't care. So I feel like I just really overreacted.
Why I think I might not be the asshole here is because:
A. I have asked her before that she ventilate the house properly when she does her meditations and yet every time I can smell it. Sometimes she wont even open the windows so I have to do it myself.
B. She knows how much I dislike the smell of smoke. I have said multiple times how I hate it and every time I have smelt it in the house I've been very obviously annoyed. There was even once incident where our neighbours were having a bonfire and I literally could not sleep in my room because I could smell smoke and had to sleep on the couch. Every time she's done one of these "spiritual cleansings" I have also made it abundantly clear how much I hate this but she doesn't seem to care because it usually forces me outside.
C. As before mentioned, my brother has athsma. While it may not seem like it bothers him I don't know what the long term consequences may be for his lungs. And for my lungs too! Like, I'm not an expert but I don't think regularly breathing in smoke is very good for you. She argues it's "real natural smoke" so it's fine and I told her she should try breathing near a wildfire to see how she liked "real natural smoke."
Anyways, with all these facts considered, random strangers on the internet, AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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pengweng-quack · 3 months
Text
Being a Witch with Vampires
Carlisle Cullen x Witch!OC
Summary: Stella (A witch) and Carlisle (A vampire), and how they blossomed from roommates to friends(?) to partners
Chapter 7/7
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7
Notes:
This was inspired by this fanfic on tumblr by lis-likes-fics titled "In My Defense, I Was Left Unsupervised"
This is also on Ao3 under the same title and same username too if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53448940)
This is officially the final chapter, and thank you so so so much for the support that you've given this series
I will probably post some other stuff firsts before the other Carlisle series that I have been working on, so leave a follow if you're interested
Thank you so much! No words can explain what I feel for each and every one of you <3
Word Count: 3930 words
TW for this chapter: Smut
Timeline: After Breaking Dawn
Masterlist
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~2007~
“Are we grandparents now?” Stella asked Carlisle while the two was in bed, hearing Renesmee play with Emmett and Jasper, hearing their giggles and laughs and screams as they seem to be having a pirate roleplay presentation for the other Cullens
“Why do you think so?” Carlisle asked
“I don’t know, we’ve always considered those five as sort of our kids, and you know, Edward and Bella have their own kid now so does that make us her grandparents?” Stella explained her point
“Mi amor, we’re not even married.” Carlisle answered with a small chuckle. They’ve always said that they’re married to the world, but has never really done anything to legalize it
The world knew her as Stella Cullen, but in reality, she was still Stella Allicere. Carlisle knew that he should change that by now.
It’s about time that she actually becomes his Stella Cullen.
“Everyone.” Edward called as Emmett, Renesmee, and Jasper was about to bow for their performance “I think Carlisle’s gonna propose.”
“What?!” Everyone shrieked in either shock, confusion, or excitement
“Yeah, he’s considering it after Stella asked if they’re grandparents.” Edward answered to everyone
“A wedding!” Alice said excitedly, clapping with a huge grin on her face
“We’re not getting married.” Carlisle announced, walking out the room with his hand around Stella’s waist “We’re doing something else.”
“He’ll be offering himself to me.”
~~
The setup was ready. Stella was anxious, if not, more anxious that Carlisle. He was calm, just watching as her and Sam was setting up the finishing touches of the ritual
“You don—
“I want to do this mi amor.” Carlisle said, kissing the temples of her head “But if you think that today isn’t the right time, then we can postpone. I can wait for an eternity for you.”
“But I don’t want you to wait.” Stella murmured “I just want you to be safe.”
“After all that has happened in our 287 years of being together, I am not letting you go anymore.” Carlisle declared
“Well?” Sam asked the couple “Are you ready?”
Stella looked at Carlisle, nothing but a content smile on his face. The kids were watching just outside the circle of salt, all were giving thumbs up to the couple.
He was excited, he was ready.
And that made her ready too.
“Ego Samuel Vi, benedictus superis, ut ligaturam darem Carlisle Cullen et Stella Allicere (I, Samuel Vi, have been blessed by the gods above to grant the binding of Carlisle Cullen and Stella Allicere).” Sam chanted, looking at the two with a smile on his face
“Beata potestate a dis facere ut (Blessed with the power from the gods to make them as one).” He continued, going and looking down on the book of bindings to for the flow
“Carlisle, announce your offers.” Sam instructed
“I am Carlisle Cullen,” Carlisle introduced, making Stella laugh “I may not have much as what others could offer you. But I promise to offer you the entirety of me. I promise to offer you eternal happiness. I will be whatever you need me to be. And I will be by your side for all of eternity.”
“Nunc nos invitamus ad magicam Stella Allicere ut eius oblationem exeat vel recipiat vel neget (We now invite for the magic within Stella Allicere to come out and accept or deny his offering).” Sam said. Carlisle got a wave of nervousness hit him, he thought that it was Stella that would accept or deny, not her magic
A wave of red flew out of Stella, it was a version of her. Ghostly, but so beautiful. She was always so beautiful, no matter what she is.
“I have heard a lot about you, Carlisle Cullen.” The ghost talked, a bored expression on its face
“You’ve caused her pain.”
“You made her wait too long.”
“You made her fend for herself too much.”
“You treated her as if she was weak.”
The ghost was listing everything that could be used against him. Did Stella actually feel of those? He got nervous, thinking that maybe he didn’t think this thoroughly through.
“Yet her heart calls for you.” The ghost countered from everything she listed “Not once have I seen a witch’s heart call for a vampire like you.”
“As the magic within Stella Allicere, I accept your offer to be her mate.” The ghost announced before flying back in Stella
Carlisle felt at ease, it was done. It was over.
They were as one now.
“Accepta tua oblatio, nunc te unum voco. Stella Allicere, tu nunc Stella Cullen (Having accepted your offer, I now call you one. Stella Allicere, you are now Stella Cullen).” Sam said with a gleeful grin on his face, closing the book of bindings
“In normal weddings, with the powers bested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife, you may now kiss the bride.” He continued, getting Carlisle to pull Stella and give her a deep kiss
The magic accepted him. Stella was at ease.
“I love you.” Stella murmured as they pull away from each other
“My turn for a proper wedding!” Alice said, clapping in excitement. Stella and Carlisle looked at each other
They couldn’t care less how extravagant Alice will do for their wedding, all they cared is now they get to call themselves husband and wife.
~~
Stella and Carlisle were making their way back near where the ceremony will be, the same place where Edward and Bella got married. They’ve given Alice their full support that she’s to manage the wedding preparation, too intoxicated with each other to even help in any preparation.
They’ve spent a week at a nearby cottage that Carlisle bought for them and was now just coming back to the main house to see what has happened in their week absence.
“Does no one here see a vision?” Alice yelled, watching as Jasper and Emmett tries to fix the place where they will have the ceremony
“Alice,” Carlisle called, a fond smile on his face “Give your brother and mate a rest.”
“Let her be,” Stella lightly scolded him, placing her hand on his chest “Those two definitely does not have a vision though.”
“We can here you mom!” Emmett yelled, causing the five to be quiet
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to—
“My son!” Stella yelled, running to tackle Emmett in a tight hug
No one among them has called Stella ‘mom’ before, only in public to put up an act. It was a shock, a sudden burst that came out of nowhere. It wasn’t unwanted, but was certainly welcomed. She did see them as her kids already.
“Hell yeah!” Emmett cheered, hugging Stella back tightly
“So, can we start calling you mom now?” Jasper asked behind them
“Yeah, everyone has been dying to call you mom already.” Edward said, joining them outside, Bella and Renesmee behind him “We thought it would be Rosalie that would fold and call you mom, or Jasper.”
“Did you bet who was gonna slip and call her mom first?” Carlisle asked, amused with the kids’ odd bets
“Yeah, there was a 5000-dollar bet that Jasper will go first.” Edward listed, excited to share what had been going behind the couple’s back
“There was a 4000-dollar bet that Rosalie was gonna be first to say it.” He continued
“There was a 2500-dollar bet that Emmett was gonna slip up and say it.” Rosalie added, going outside and joining them
“I think 700 for me. It wasn’t as high as the three, but I was following them.” Edward continued
“I told them that I already knew who was gonna slip up so I just didn’t join, but I did want to call you mom just as much as they do already.” Alice giggled as Stella moved back to be next to Carlisle, resting her head on his shoulders
“Well, I think you owe them 2500, mister.” Stella said, a grin on her face as she playfully looked at Emmett before he groaned and pulled out his wallet. Everyone fell into a line, waiting to receive their 2500 from Emmett
“Why they’d bet like that when their dad is loaded amuses me.” Stella said, before everyone looked at the two, shock looks on their faces
“What is it?” Carlisle asked, curious with the kids’ sudden shock
“You just made us lose!” Emmett yelled in shock, before laughing hard
“Did you also bet who was gonna call Carlisle ‘dad’ too?” Stella asked, amused with their reactions
“We thought it was gonna be Edward.” Jasper answered “Like 15000 was all on Edward that he was gonna call Carlisle ‘dad’ first.”
“Give some respect to your dad.” Stella playfully scolded, giggling like crazy. She felt Carlisle’s hand find its way to her waist, resting as he watches the kids in amusement
Their kids.
“Technically,” Stella said, raising her pointing finger with a matter-of-fact tone “I didn’t call him dad, I do call him—
“We do not want to hear about you and dad’s sex life!” Rosalie yelled, covering her ears like a little child. They all looked at her, laughing as she slipped up
“Damn it!” She could only yell in reply
Carlisle and Stella could only laugh as Rosalie rushes in the house to grab the 15000 dollars that was promised, begrudgingly giving it to Edward.
“Okay!” Alice said, clapping her hands together “Now that you’re all here, you can go and help me with the wedding preparations.”
“Go help your sister out,” Carlisle told them before moving his eyes to Stella, eyeing her from top to bottom “Me and my wife-to-be is gonna enjoy some few moments—
“Ew!” Emmett yelled, covering her ears again “We do not want to hear what you and mom do in the cottage.”
“Mr. Cullen, don’t terrorize our kids like that.” Stella teased, lightly slapping Carlisle’s chest but using her pointing finger to trail down his torso
Carlisle made eye contact with Stella, her grey eyes looking at him seductively. Her body was calling for him, every inch of her needing and calling for every inch of him.
And that made his pants a bit tighter than how it was
“We will be in the cottage, call us when the pre-wedding preparations are over.” Carlisle said, his hands tightly on Stella’s waist “You know who to invite.”
(Smut Scene)
The two didn’t hear what they were gonna say next, as Carlisle picked her up bridal style and rushed to the cottage and into their bedroom. Where Carlisle carefully placed her down the bed, his eyes on her like a predator on his prey.
“I need you.” Carlisle murmured, removing the shirt that he had to wear in visiting the main house, Stella watched as his cold tone body was revealed, making her gulp.
What a masterpiece.
Carlisle crawled to the bed, making his way to be on top of Stella, his hands slowly making its way on Stella’s waist, playing with the hem of her top before fully removing it, giving him more access to her skin.
“How you managed to keep me outside when you’re this ravishing astonishes me.” Carlisle whispered, indulging himself and leaving shallow bite marks on Stella’s shoulders, getting the witch to let out whimpers of pleasure. He used his free hand to undo her bra, having experience from her teaching him how to undo it.
Carlisle took his time on Stella’s shoulders and neck, leaving bite marks wherever his lips land on. Such simple action, yet his beloved Stella is already moaning in pleasure. He moved down to her legs, removing the shorts and panties that were preventing Carlisle from giving more pleasure to his wife-to-be.
“Carlisle,” Stella moaned quietly “No teasing.”
“I do not intend on teasing you, my beloved.” Carlisle answered, using his two fingers to rub the wetness that was forming in Stella’s pussy around “I only intend on taking my time with you.”
“Carlisle please,” Stella breathed out. Carlisle chucked at the sight of her, he hasn’t done anything yet Stella is already crying her pleas
Carlisle slowly inserted two fingers in her, allowing her to adjust. Stella let out a moan, throwing her head back. He decided to end the slowness, increasing the speed of his fingers going in and out of her as he places his mouth on her clit, using it to stimulate more pleasure in her.
“Carlisle,” Stella breathed out, Carlisle could hear her heartbeat speeding, it meant that she was getting closer to her orgasm.
“Yes, mi amor?” Carlisle asked, pulling away from her clit, a string of saliva following as he used his other hand to stimulate her more
“C-close.” She could only mutter, deep pants coming from her mouth
“I know.” He only replied, keeping the pace of his hands on her
It didn’t take long for Stella to let out a cry of his name, her back arching in pleasure as Carlisle kept the pace of his fingers on her, even going back and placing his mouth on her clit to stimulate her freshly orgasmed pussy
“Carlisle!” Stella squealed, grabbing a handful of his hair as she grinded her pussy on his face. Carlisle welcomed it, pulling his hands away from her and wrapping it around her thighs, keeping them in place.
Carlisle decided that he was gonna force another orgasm out of her before he even thinks of his pleasure. She was getting close again, he didn’t need his vampiric senses to figure that out. Stella was chanting his name like a prayer, her grip on his hair tight and her back arched.
“Carlisle, I’m cumming!” Stella yelled, lifting her waist up in instinct. Carlisle pushed her down, making sure that he gets to ride her orgasm before he pulled away from her
“How was it, mi amor?” Carlisle asked her, looking at her face. She was panting, and anyone would clearly be able to see just how used she had been
‘To think that it’s just been two orgasms’ Carlisle thought to himself, chuckling as Stella catches her breath
Stella didn’t reply, only grabbing his hand and pulling him down the bed and making her way on top of him. Resting herself dangerously close to his cock.
“Need you.” Stella murmured, before turning around and pushing the sweatpants off the vampire, revealing his semi-hardened cock
It was now Carlisle’s turn to moan as Stella had wrapped her hand around his length, slowly stroking it for his dick to fully harden. When Stella was satisfied, he aligned his cock to her pussy, lowering herself down. They shared a moan; Stella’s head was thrown back in pleasure.
“Such a pretty sight.” Carlisle complimented, placing his hands on her waist as she started grinding on him. Moans and whimpers were coming out of Carlisle’s mouth, watching as his Stella grinds on his cock.
“Such a good girl for me.” He continued complimenting, before grabbing her waist and taking control for her grinding “You like being on top of me?”
“Mhm.” Stella nodded; her eyes closed in pleasure as she continued to follow Carlisle’s rhythm “So much.”
“Fuck,” Carlisle breathed out. The sight of her was so divine, a masterpiece.
All his.
“So close.” Carlisle whimpered “You want me to cum inside you?”
“Please.” Stella mumbled, covering her flustered face on his shoulders, her pace suddenly got faster as so her heartbeat did, it was obvious that she’s just had another orgasm. 287 years and she still make his undead heart flutter
“What’s that?” Carlisle asked again “Couldn’t hear you. Maybe you should face me so I can hear your answer, mi amor.”
“Need you to fill me up.” Stella whimpered, facing him with blushing yet fucked face, she was panting heavily, after just having another orgasm. The sight itself made Carlisle cum then and there. He didn’t expect that he wouldn’t be able to hold it a little longer, letting out a strangled moan in pleasure as he feels his release.
“I love you.” Stella murmured, resting her head on his shoulder
“Three orgasms and you’re already tired?” Carlisle teased her, picking her up and laying her down the bed, strings of his orgasm dripping out of her
“Try having three orgasms and then we’ll talk.”  Stella said in a grumpy tone, closing her eyes in an attempt to sleep
(End of Smut)
“Come on mi amor. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Carlisle said, picking her up bridal style and carrying her to the bathroom
Stella allowed him to take care of her, doing what Carlisle was asking her to do. She usually had a higher stamina when they’re having some time alone but it seemed that today was just not her day. Carlisle prepared the bath for them, making sure that it was the perfect temperature for Stella before positioning themselves in it and feeling the water on their skin.
“Is it possible for a vampire to impregnate a witch?” Stella asked quietly, her head resting softly on Carlisle’s chest
“Mi amor?” Carlisle asked quietly, he was nervous if his carelessness of pulling out have led to something else. He had no physical heart, yet he felt something was pounding his chest.
“I’m not implying anything.” Stella assured him; her eyes closed as she was enjoying the water’s temperature “Just curious on it.”
“I would assume that it’s possible.” He answered to her curiosity “Since a human and vampire can procreate, I would assume that it would be possible for us too.”
“Would you want to have one of our own?” She asked again, though quieter than how she asked her last question
“Would you be happier if we did have one of our own?” Carlisle asked her back. He was curious and concerned with the sudden baby discussions and what Stella was implying with that
“I wouldn’t—
“Then we won’t.” Carlisle answered at once “Your happiness is my concern. If you think that having a kid will make us happier and will make you more fulfilled, then I will be willing to give you as many children as your heart desires.”
“I thought, seeing Bella and Edward have Renesmee, that you would want a kid of your own.” Stella confessed “You know, it opened a possibility for us, if you’d want to face through it.”
“I would not want to see you in such pain, knowing that Iam the cause of it. I have seen it once; I would not wish to see you in pain again.” Carlisle answered, kissing the back of her head in an attempt to comfort her
“Are you sure?” Stella asked again, she was craving assurance from him
“100% sure, mi amor.” Carlisle answered earnestly “And besides, the kids consider us as their parents. I don’t know about you, but I consider them to be my kids.”
“I love you. Thank you for understanding my doubts.” Stella said, scooting closer to him
“I love you more.” Carlisle whispered, kissing the back of her head and wrapping his arm around her “Never think that you need more just for me to love you. I already do.”
~~
Almost all of Carlisle and Stella’s non-human friends were guests in their wedding, it was obvious that no one got to stop Alice from inviting them whatsoever. There were familiar faces, and less familiar faces, all were there to celebrate the long-awaited union of the two
Alice informed them just before the wedding started that they were gonna have another wedding, with only their human friends to give them a bit of normalcy in their union. And also, because she was well aware that even them have been rooting for them since forever.
After all, Carlisle gets to do the garter tradition on Stella twice, so who was he to oppose to that?
“Good evening, everyone.” Edward started, tapping into the mic before continuing “I’m Edward, you may know me as the vampire that fell for a human and led to a lot of things to happen, but that’s all behind us now.”
“We’re here today to celebrate a different union, one that everyone has waited to see since the beginning of their journey together. I, personally, have been a witness of how much of a coward Carlisle has been and just how patient Stella has been with him too.”
His comment made the audience laugh and Carlisle to roll his eyes at his playful antics. Edward looked at the two with a fond smile on his face before averting his attention to the audience.
“All teasing aside, I do want to thank Stella for having such a kind soul for staying with us. I know that becoming a mom was something you didn’t think you would fit to be, but you decided to step up and become the mother that we didn’t think we would need from our transition from humanity to eternity.”
“Carlisle is many things, but he is always Stella’s number one. His actions betrayed the words that came out of his mouth, for it spoke what his heart always yearned for. Carlisle, you may have waited centuries for a chance with your mate, but you don’t need to worry anymore, because she is now by your side until the end of our immortal lives.”
“Everyone has been a witness of their pinning, me painfully so because of my telepathy and the time that I’ve spent with them. And everyone had one hope for the both of you, and that was for you two to realize just how deep the love and respect that you have for each other.”
“I am standing here today, not just as their eldest son, but also a man that witnessed their love and how it was always bound to withstand the test of time.”
“May you be blessed to have the love that you will choose to live for every day.” Edward ended, raising his glass of blood to initiate a cheer for the newlywed
Edward went down the stage and hugged Carlisle and Stella, whispering his congratulations to the two of them. Rosalie made her way up the stage, a wide grin on her face.
“So, Edward made a long, very proper speech.” Rosalie started, getting laughter from the crowd “I intend to keep mine short, but I don’t think I will be able to summarize the 287 years of pinning that they had with each other.”
“Oh, come on.” Stella teased, playfully rolling her eyes at Rosalie
“I’ve only been with them for 74 years. But in those 74 years, not once have I doubted the love between the two of them. It was always there, though acknowledged very very late. Carlisle showed his through words, always knowing the right things to say to be Stella’s solace. And Stella showed hers through actions, making sure that Carlisle never forgets that he deserved rest just as much as the humans did. Both subtle yet screamed what their hearts wanted to say.”
“I wish I was as poetic as Edward.” Rosalie joked, getting the married couple to chuckle at her comment “But we really do wish nothing more but your complete happiness in your life as an officially married couple.”
“Congratulations! And finally, you’re married.” Rosalie ended, clapping because she was right
Finally, they were married.
Carlisle and Stella looked at each other as Rosalie went down the stage, a fond smile forming on their faces, before sharing a kiss. Getting the audience to cheer and yell for them.
The kiss was soft, it was gentle.
It was everything that summarized their 287 years of pinning.
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@kisekihany
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lancermylove · 1 year
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Aww my heart was gonna bust seeing the child kitchen witch post! Can I have a quick ask please? Like maybe she gets a barely passing grade on a test, and gets scared because at home her parents would hurt her if she didn’t get perfect scores despite being a CHILD! She surrounds herself in a salt circle before handing the test to Luci, while covering her head waiting to be hit! How do the brothers react?
Initial reaction:
Lucifer: Concerned. Does she think he will hit her? Kneels to her height, praises her for her efforts and asks what she would like as a reward for her efforts.
Mammon: Nearly laughs at seeing the salt circle. That ain't goin' to keep any demon out, 'specially not Lucifer....he knows because he has tried. Get upset at Lucifer for rewarding the child for her efforts - where are his gifts then? He puts a lot of effort into everything too!
Levi: Chuckles at the salt circle but wonders if she got a bad grade and is scared to face the consequences. If only keeping away Lucifer was as easy as pouring a salt circle around yourself.
Satan: Sighs. Remind him to teach her that salt circles don't actually keep demons away, but he is concerned. It's not normal for any children to show such behavior.
Asmo: Thinks the situation with the salt circle is cute and goes to take a picture but stops when he sees her covering her head. Why is she so scared?
Beel: Tempted to eat the salt but doesn't want his brothers to get mad. Beel isn't happy to see her cover her head. Doesn't she know that Lucifer would never hit her?
Belphie: Wonders if she faced major consequences for not doing well on her exams back in her world. Doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but he doesn't like this situation one bit.
----
Reaction after finding out why child mc did what she did:
Lucifer: Angry. Giving punishments for unacceptable behavior is fine but to a child and that too hitting her? That crosses several limits. What upsets him the most is MC got a 95 on her exam - a score worthy of praise - yet here she is scared and expecting to get hit.
Mammon: Disturbed. That's not right. How could anyone hit a child, and that too for a test grade. 95 is an amazing score! The parents should be praising her for studying hard enough to get an A. Maybe he should hand the parents to his witch friends and tell them to do whatever they want with her.
Levi: Sad. It's one thing if their child wasn't doing well in school and the parents were upset, but she got a 95! A NINTY-FIVE! They should be proud to have a smart kid. It's a good thing they were in front of him; otherwise, he would have summoned Lotan and drowned them both.
Satan: Angry. Perfectionism is good but only to a certain level. No one can expect any living creature to be perfect, especially not a child. He wants to hug her and tell her "it's alright" and "she did well".
Asmo: Unhappy. Her parents punished her for getting grades below 100? That's insane. They are insane. Everyone makes mistakes...the parents need to stop pretending that they are perfect because they are committing the biggest mistake of their life-destroying their child's mental health. She doesn't deserve this. Wants to ask Lucifer if they can adopt her and keep her with them.
Beel: Sad. Can he devour the parents whole? Family members are supposed to uplift and support each other, not hit each other...especially not a child over grades.
Belphie: Angry. If the parents are trying to teach the child to work hard and make something of herself, they are doing it wrong. And if they are trying to teach her to be perfect, they are in the wrong. There are no such creatures as perfect creatures, not in this realm, not in the celestial realm, and definitely not in the human realm.
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uncanny-tranny · 1 year
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Controversial idea, maybe, but I think that the idea that sex is completely unchanging and clearly definable is a part of patriarchal structures that are designed to limit and suppress any expression or way of being that transend people's understanding of what sex "is".
Basically, tying one's worth as a human to sex is a very old idea, and it's used to specifically used to enforce compliance. It doesn't just affect trans people, of course. However, I have had experiences of this because of my transness, and it has led me to be very critical of how people engage in this discussion. I don't think liberation for trans, intersex, and gender expansive people will be achieved in the current climate we are in, where sex is seen as an indication of one's worth, or that it tells you about one's inherent qualities. I've talked about this a lot, but I do think that sex as it currently is understood is one of the factors in why people are so squeamish about trans people... existing.
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leahnardo-da-veggie · 19 days
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False-Moon
So the publishers rejected my short story, but I figured yall might like it haha! Here:
The shining spectre of the holy sun dipped behind the clouds, and I watched it go. When the last ember of gold was dashed, I sparked my lantern and raised it up on its stick, twelve and a half men high. 
Night bloomed around me, darkness without the respite of a moon. Ours had fallen many springs ago, when the Dryads warred with the Harpies, who stole the moon to spite us. The gods had punished them, and there are no Harpies now, but no man nor god had been able to find the moon again. So we made do with my lantern.
Its post was carved living birch, taken from the corpses of fallen Dryad Warriors, each strip from a different corpse, held together by metal inlay. Under the flickering lamp-light, its runes were more serpent than silver, glinting and shifting slyly. It was a comfort, a stave against the weight on my duty.
The wind was bitter on the moors tonight, tall grass whipping at my ankles, chilling me through the layers of bark I bore. It would not hurt me, any more than the winter could kill an ancient oak, but I hated it all the same, for I had not the fortitude of my sleeping siblings, and it meant the night would be an even more unpleasant one.
I walked through the moor, lantern held high. it illuminated me in a too-small circle of gold. I was but a little sapling when the moon fell, of course, but I remembered the moon's blessing on me. It felt nothing like the thin lantern-light. 
The light had been silver, like my mother's greying hair, like the wolves that guarded our forest, like safety and wisdom. All I felt here was exhaustion. That, and fear. We did not venture out of the forest at night, and nothing separated me from the endless darkness. Nothing, except my false-moon.
I stopped in the middle of the field and looked up. I was not quite sure why I did as such, for there was nothing up there. I remembered a story my grandmother's grandmother told me, of a time when her grandmother had been a little girl, when there were stars in the sky, little shining dots like the freckles on a Human's skin, and when night was but an icy day, so perhaps it was a ghost of a memory. It was all gone now, in any case.
I wondered how long it would be ‘til the sun was gone too.
My steady feet carried me to the edge of the moor. Water rushed there, slick pebbles hard against the wood of my soles. I stepped into the stream, letting the flow part itself around my calves as I moved. My hands never faltered, never dropped low. They were aching, now, just a little.
Under my golden lantern, the river might well have been blood, the blood of all the wars we had held over the millennia. I could only catch the faintest glimpses of silver amidst the dark river, and that could have just been the moon's blood. 
I crossed the stream with no fuss, and stood on the ancient battlefield. Charred ground crumbled beneath my feet, a steady path made by my predecessors leading me forth. From within the tiny circle of illumination, I saw stumps of torrefied wood, my sleeping siblings dead from an agonising blaze. The elders had called it their due, for the dead-wood had sheltered our mortal enemies. I could only call it a sham, a shame, a horrible thing out of my nightmares. Treason, my elders would remind me, but true nonetheless.
The very air itself resisted my movements, as though the darkness did not want to be lit here, that the horrors that had occurred should not be revealed. In the daylight, perhaps, it would not have been quite so grim. The sun would have warmed the dead dirt, and I could have pretended not to feel the life-destroying salt beneath me.
Closing my eyes, I shook the unease off. It would find no mantle within me. Five years I had trained for this day, to do my people proud, to set the night alight. Yet, here I was, on the boundary between my people and our long-dead enemy, and I felt nothing but loss.
The ground was not burnt here, not yet. Grass still poked up between my toes, friendly and curious. My sleeping siblings, great oaks, smiled down at me, in the way they had done at home. I looked up at my little sphere of fire. It danced and gleamed within its cage of metal and glass, eager to unmake. 
I should have done what all my predecessors did, and broke that sphere, letting our wrath blaze, sending the Harpy-forest alight. It would please my elders, and brighten the endless darkness, returning that which the Harpies took from us for a brief night. 
I could have done what a few did, and walked away, returning my lantern unbroken and the forest unburnt. It would make the elders rage, and they would cast me out of their ranks, but at least I would not be a part of this travesty.
I did not do either of those things.
Instead, I set my stick firmly into the growing grass, where it stood tall. I got on one knee before my people's nemesis, and I bowed, the way I would have done at home, before my forest and my gods. My nose brushed against the dark earth, and I inhaled it. The scent was strange, with its char, yet familiar. It had once been a part of our forest too, once.
I knelt there, and I whispered a prayer. “Great old ones, my fallen brethren, my people's old enemies, hear me. I bring an apology. Forgive us, for our senseless violence. Forgive us, for making a farce of the moon's light with our fire. Forgive us, for we must end this cycle. The stars have all fallen. The moon is spirited away. When the sun is lost too, what hope will there be for any of our peoples? So— I take the first step and make amends. I am Entarai, daughter of warriors Jerai and Ilkoi, who were felled in the same battle that took your lives. I offer this lantern, and the fire within, and I beg you, with all my heart, forgive us and return our moon,” I said, not expecting a response.
There was none, of course. I had not the sensitivity of a druid, to hear the whispers of the dead, nor the skills of a necromancer to call them to me, so even if they had reached out, I would never know.
I got up, brushed the dirt out of the cracks on my bark. I pressed my cheekbones in a final orison, then turned and began the walk home. My miniature moon, the little lantern on its stick, disappeared behind me as I left the woods behind. 
Strangely, the darkness did not hold the same terror it once did.
My path back was marked by the indents of my feet, the path walked by me and every other lantern bearer for a hundred thousand moonless nights. Blind as I was, I could follow it back to my lands. I navigated the riverbank through its pebbles, my feet feeling blindly for the smooth slippery stone and the water that would follow. Whence I found it, I crawled on my hands and knees through the river, its coolness washing over me, soaking me to the core. 
Perhaps it was just a trick of my mind, but the stream no longer felt like blood.
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Hello! I've been reading through all your posts so far and even though I am personally an ML fan and not a salter, I love media analysis and I'm sad that there isn't much of them in the fandom. There are directions in the show that I'm not satisfied with and I'm currently working on a rewrite for a future comic.
I'm curious about your ideas and takes on how you would personally rewrite ML, right now one of my issues is figuring out how the Peacock Miraculous works bcuz of sentimonsters. How would you write them?
I'm glad that you're enjoying my stuff! I label it all as salt because - as best I can tell - this fandom defines that as anything even slightly negative, but my goal is more analysis and discussion than angry ranting. Talking about what a piece of media did wrong and how you would improve it is a fantastic way to improve your own writing. It's why I got into media analysis in the first place!
Funnily enough, I do have a massive rewrite out there somewhere on AO3, so I DO have thought about how to handle sentimonsters. Or, more specifically, I've thought about how to handle the peacock. I'll give those first, then circle back to sentis.
In my humble opinion, the idea of sentimonsters should be scrapped for the following reasons, all of which existed long before the sentitheory was even on my radar:
Sentimonsters are too derivative. They feel like akuma clones and not a unique power. You can tell that the power was only created because they wanted/needed a power that would let the peacock be used at a distance the same way the butterfly is even though no other miraculous works this way.
If you want to do a slavery plot, the kwamis are right there being enslaved. You don't need to add human-looking slaves to the mix. Especially given that many of those human-looking slaves are apparently fine to kill off? Just, the ethics around the way the show does sentimonsters will always make me feel icky. Meanwhile the kwamis don't have the awkward element of being magical constructs that were made to serve. They were a free people before the miraculous. The one way I've played with using Felix is as a kwamis freedom fighter instead of a senti one.
Sentimonsters have too nebulous of a lore. In what way are they emotions brought to life? Outside of Feast, emotions don't seem to effect them at all. Nooroo's powers feel far more emotion based than Dusuu's and it bothers me.
There's also the fact that one of the show's biggest problems is character bloat. No writer alive can write a satisfying story that features a team of 36 characters! (18 humans + 18 kwamis) This is why the kwamis act as a hive mind once Marinette becomes the Guardian. You just can't write that many characters into a scene and keep their personalities straight, so they're now a single unit even though it makes Sass and Wayzz feel out of character.
Give all of that and the way the miracle box is kinda... well, it feels a little too cultural appropriation-ish for my tastes. I won't go on a full rant here, but to give two highlights: the zodiac miraculous don't seem to have a thing to do with the real Chinese zodiac and a box based on Chinese lore would NOT use a black cat for the symbol of bad luck. Black cats being bad luck is relatively modern European lore. In other words, the Chinese stuff is just there for ascetics and not actually representative of Chinese culture, so I had no moral issues scrapping the miracle box and making a much smaller version and neither should you if you're so inclined!
The thing about lore is that it only matters as much as the show makes it matter and, outside of a few key miraculous, I really do think you can change them without most readers caring because of how little the powers actually matter to the show's lore. Like they have completely scrapped the idea of making a person match their miraculous even though that was supposedly a big thing back in season two. This is extra true because it took us so long to learn all the powers in canon, so there are a lot of fics that pre-date the canon reveal and do different things.
But if you want to keep sentimonsters to be more canon accurate, I would consider all of the following as options or things to keep in mind. Feel free to use all or none of them as I'm probably never touching this plot and, if I do, it will doubtless be different from whatever you do:
Doing something to make the difference between valid and non-valid sentimonsters abundantly clear and not just "the creator decides who is valid" OR just don't make any sentimonster valid and have Emilie have used the miraculous out of a desire to help people because she didn't know it would kill her
Have Gabriel be more conflicted about the use of sentimonsters since, you know, his kid is one and Adrien, Felix, and Kagami are the only sentimonsters he dealt with for many, many years
Consider having Nathalie make one sentimonster (maybe even present it as her own child) in order to help Gabriel so it's not a slew of akuma 2.0 on the battlefield. Instead its someone at the school looking for Ladybug and Chat Noir after the villains realize that they're teenagers. (This could be a good way to use Lila and make her powers make sense)
Redo Dusuu's Force or make the tie between sentimonsters and emotions more clear. Like Felix is made from jealousy and Adrien is made from love so that's the source of their conflict
Use Felix as a third, morally neutral party who only cares about sentimonsters and have him act toward those goals like we all thought he was going to after season five. Magneto from X-men should be your template for him not whatever canon did.
Consider letting Kagami know from the start and let her know that she and Adrien are meant to be, but she's not allowed to tell him the truth or something. If you don't go that route then, at the very least, have her finding out be a big deal for her relationship with her mother.
Go all in with Adrien's commands. Gabriel wants Adrien to date Kagami? He's going to date Kagami. None of this Y-7 undo button BS. Go big or go home.
Give the sentimonsters a way to break free. That's what the power of love is supposed to be about. You could go super cheesy with this if you combined it with Adrien's source emotion being love. The literal love child using the thing that made him to overcome what he was made to be to be what he wants to be sounds very fun to me.
Consider giving the senti kids superpowers. It's honestly kinda weird how relatively normal they are. Like, sure, Felix is supposed to be super smart, but we only know that from his Wikipedia and that's about it.
I could go on, but that's a lot, so we'll stop here. Feel free to send additional asks or message me. I have many, many thoughts about how to fix canon while trying to stay true to the core ideas of the story. Or, at least, the things I consider to be the core. I legitimately enjoy the adaption process and think the fun of fanfiction is largely trying to fit alternate takes on canon into the base framework so it still appeals to fans of the source.
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bbyquokka · 1 year
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The thought of a idol felix preforming Taste with his gf in the crowd and he keeps catching glances to her 😭
I was wondering if you can do a fem× idol!au smut & fluff towards the end with felix and after the show they just can't keep their hands off each other once they get back to the hotel ( oh and felix a switch )
I adore everything you post keep up the amazing work! ❤️
i speed wrote this. to put into context, i started writing it after your second ask, lmao. i hope it doesnt seem rushed though.. i just had an idea and wanted to jot it down asap before i forgot it (that tends to happen alot to me) anyways; thank you for your kind words, it means a lot! lemme know your thoughts and opinions – i welcome all feedback!
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⌢ : ⤹ 💦 more
→ PAIRING: Lee Felix x fem!reader x Hwang Hyunjin
→ GENRE: idol!au | smut | MDNI
→ SYNOPSIS: Hyunjin wants to join in on the fun with you and felix.
→ WARNINGS: implemented threesome | switch!felix | Hyunjin radiates dom energy | mxm (Hyunjin kisses felix) | nipple play | Felix gets a lil jealous and possessive | grinding | rutting | kinda proofread
→ WORDS: 1.1k
→ have a request? send it to me here. read my rules to learn about my guidelines before submitting requests!
Feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!
→ m.list — → you can also read it on my ao3
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His eyes glued on you. His hand trailing up his inner thigh to his torso, body gliding across the floor. His stare dominating, suffocating. He's looking at you, watching your every move. Taking in every emotion and movement.
Your rosy cheeks, your breath hitching in your throat; he loves making you submit to him. You're weak to him, he's powerful. His voice sends shivers down your spine. The way his hands caress and run over his body sensually brings back memories.
He approaches you, hooking his finger under your chin, the words "just look at me" in a deep, sensual whisper, commanding you to do as you're told. He's making you weak, clouding your mind with nothing but thoughts of him and him only.
He's enjoying this way more than he should. Way more than he is allowed to. He just knows that once you're both back at the hotel, it's going to get even more heated.
Your hands roaming all over one another, clothing discarding in a trail from the door to the bedroom. Lips sucking and kissing the skin of each other's necks, teeth sinking into the delicate skin.
A clear of the throat pulls you both apart, Hyunjin watching you both with a raised brow. You flush pink, aware you're naked in front of your boyfriend's best friend.
"Hyunjin!" You squeak out, covering your body with your hands. Hyunjin laughy softly, approaching you slowly, "What are you doing here?"
"I'm Felix's roommate. Did he forget to tell you?" You look at Felix, a pink color on his cheeks indicating that he did indeed fail to tell you. 
"Felix!" You whine, laughing softly. Felix looks at his feet, aware of the situation. He shrugs and pouts at you both. You raise a brow, slowly 
"Not even a sorry?" The sudden shift in atmosphere causes Felix to shiver and swallow his saliva. Hyunjin felt the sudden change, smirking and finding it amusing. Your sudden boost of confidence takes over as you slowly walk to your boyfriend.
He bites his bottom lip gently, watching you walk slow circles around him. Eyeing him up and down, like a lioness stalking its prey. You stand behind him, kissing the back of his neck. The taste of salt evident on his skin from his sweat, your hands trailing down his abs to the waistband of his underwear that he failed to take off.
"W-What are–"
"Be quiet." You scoff, cupping his clothed erection. Hyunjin watches, arms folded. He finds it amusing to watch his friend go all soft and submissive. He always thought it was the other way around; but he had his suspicions and his behaviour right now, confirms them.
"But, Hyunjin." Felix chokes out, feeling your fingertips lightly outline the length of his cock through the material. You hum, looking at Hyunjin over Felix's shoulder.
"I'm sure Hyunjin doesn't mind, right?" You coo, directing the end of your sentence to Hyunjin. He unfolds his arms, walking towards you both.
"Of course not." He strokes Felix's hair gently before stroking his cheeks, "Just be good for us, lix." He plants a gentle kiss on Felix's lips, a soft whine escaping his lips, indicating that he wants more. Hyunjin pulls away, laughing as Felix’s whines before his gaze falls onto you.
Something about Hyunjin fascinates you. He's not hard to read, but sometimes, you feel like he is. Hyunjin's main concern is you. He wants to get his hands on you, play with you. He's been curious about you just as much as you have about him and maybe tonight will be the night.
Hyunjin grabs your wrist, pulling you flush against his body; his eyes dark with lust. It’s like hyunjin has been waiting for eternity for this moment, to get his hands on you. It’s wrong of him to think and feel that, considering you're his best friend's partner, but he cannot help the way he feels about you; there's just something about you that intrigues Hyunjin. Felix watches, letting out a pathetic whimper. Hyunjin's lips are suddenly on yours, a shock to your system. Your brain fails to register what is happening. 
Felix swallows, unable to do anything about the current situation. He watches Hyunjin kiss you, his plump lips moving against yours slow and sensually. His hands trail down your back, cupping your ass, a muffled moan falls past your lips.
Hyunjins lips trail from your lips to your neck where he softly sucks and bites your skin. You let out soft moans, holding onto Hyunjin's shoulders for stability.
"Can i–?" 
"No." You smirk, looking at Felix who is desperately palming himself, his eyes glossy with desperation.
"Just be a good boy lix and let me take care of y/n." Hyunjin coos, his hands caressing the curve of your ass, lips sucking and kissing your skin trailing down to your breasts. You him, pushing back his hair as his lips wrap around your nipple. He sucks and nibbles on the bud, making you kick your head back and groan softly.
Felix whimpers from the side, feeling a sense of helplessness. All he can do is stand and watch whilst giving himself some sort of relief. The more he watches, the more he wants to join in. He debates about it, wondering if he should.
Why shouldn't he? Why should he let you have all the fun with his best friend? Why is Hyunjin allowed to pleasure you and not him? You're his girlfriend after all!
A wave of jealousy and possessiveness washes over him, clouding his mind and taking over his body. His legs automatically make their way behind you, his hands gripping your hips tightly.
"You really think I would just stand and watch my best friend pleasure you and not do anything about it?" You bite your lip gently, the roles reversing between you both. You swallow thickly, looking behind you with doe eyes as you flutter them, innocently.
Felix scoffs, rolling his eyes as he presses his clothed boner flush against your ass. You grunt, feeling him grind against you. Hyunjin pulls away from your nipple, licking his lips.
"But, you don't like sharing, lix."
"True, but I don't mind if it's Hyunjin." You shiver, the presence of the two men sandwiching you shakes you to your core. You feel your entrance throb, excitement bubbling in your stomach and exploding, coursing through your veins.
Felix trails his hand down your stomach, cupping your cunt. You buck your hips in his hand, desperately rutting in the palm of his hand, wanting some sort of relief. Your slick coats the palm of his hand, Hyunjin watching in amusement 
"Oh, we are going to have so much fun with you!" Hyunjin grins, looking at Felix. 
"We're going to make it a night you will never forget."
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→ TAGS [open]: @chaneomma | @sstarryoong | @purple-belle | @laylasbunbunny | @dilucpegg3r | @chanssmiles | @meltheninja13
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nhstadler · 5 months
Text
3 9 7  P A G E S
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Hey everyone! I realised it's been forever since I posted anything and since I'm not quite finished with the chapter, I thought I'd at least post a story snippet to let you know that I haven't fogotten about you and about HNTBAW. It's just been a little much lately and I've been struggling with writer's block (as always).
But anyway, this is a random scene from the post Hogwarts series (which I might title A Catalogue of Us). It's kind of a flashback memory sort of thing and maybe it's a little confusing and sad, but maybe some of you enjoy it. I hope you had wonderful holidays / Christmas if you celebrate it and I promise I'm still writing.
Let me know what you think if you feel like it... hearing from you guys always helps my motivation, honestly :)
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When James fell, the world stood still. I stood still. 
Sometimes I still dream about it. His muddled form falling through the sky, the burst of levitation spells in the pouring rain, like perverse fireworks, missing him again and again and again. There was nothing anyone could have done and yet… 
And yet.
I take a sip of my coffee, trying to banish the scraps of the nightmare that still cling to my mind as I wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders. The air is crisp, laced with salt and the subtle sweetness of the heather that grows along the cliffside, trembling in the breeze. I’ve been staring at the horizon for almost an hour, watching the darkness fade into that bluish glow that only exists in these few minutes before sunrise, when the world is in-between. Like the sky holds its breath for just a moment.
Like I held my breath when I was an ocean away, unpacking my old life into my new flat, barely paying attention to Ludo Bagman’s tinny commentary in the background. I didn’t even know why I had turned on the match in the first place. I should have stayed away, taken advantage of the physical distance, but there was comfort in the familiarity of it. In hearing his name chanted by thousands of voices. I missed him and I hated him a little for it. And then I heard the screams. 
I thought I had lost him before, but this was so much worse.
***
The room is bright, made of sun-drenched walls and filled with flowers and too many people. But I barely notice. James isn’t moving. There is a tangle of tubes, pumping healing potion from the IV bags into his system, mending his broken bones and his cuts and gashes as much as it can. But even magic can only do so much. 
Ginny sees me first. I’m lingering in the doorway like an intruder, not sure if I have a right to be here. I couldn’t not come. I don’t know what to say, though. My throat closes off when our gaze meets over the hospital bed. She’s clutching James’s hand in both of hers like she’s holding on for dear life, her eyes brimming with tears, and I’m crying too, biting my bottom lip to keep myself from sobbing.
“Seth!” Lily calls out, making both Harry and Al look up, but I still don’t know if I’m welcome. Not until Ginny lets go of her son and extends her hand towards me, the faintest of smiles curving her mouth as she summons me to his bedside.
I want to touch him, to feel that he is still here, warm and real and alive, but I don’t dare. There are too many IV lines and bandages and I’m afraid I might hurt him. “How - how is he?”
It’s a useless question, I know it, but there’s still the naive hope that the answer might have changed. That he’ll open his eyes and give me that infuriating half-smile, calling me Woodley and telling me that everything will be alright.
“I’m sorry,” someone says behind me and I turn around to look at the healer that has come into the room. “Only family is allowed in here.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” 
I make to get up, wiping away the tears with shaky fingers, but Ginny’s hand circles my wrist, her bloodshot gaze firmly on the woman in the lime green coat. “She is.”
***
I wanted to buy him some magazines, but half of the stock in the small St. Mungo’s kiosk is about brooms and Quidditch and the other half are gaudy newspapers that still seem to be in a competition over who can print the most disturbing pictures of James plummeting through the air. I was ready to give up and settle on the Kneazle Lover’s Digest when I saw the flashy book pyramid by the checkout. 
“I got you something.” I’m barely in the room when I hold up the shiny hardback with the gaudy cover and James raises an eyebrow at the shirtless guy that takes up most of the front.
“Holy Morgan, what is that, Woodley?” He lets his head fall to the side, smiling at me, even though he is too weak to move. Bruises and scratches still paint brutal patterns across his skin, covering his face and neck, his shoulders, his ribs, but they’re healing. 
Unlike his legs. 
“They had it in the hospital bookshop!” I can barely contain my excitement as I sit down in the chair next to his bed, thumbing through the pages, because this feels like a sign. A very dumb sign, but a sign nonetheless, and I’ll take anything I can get. “No way!” I press the open page against my mouth, my eyebrows arching at James over the edge of the book.
“What?” He’s frowning, amusement still tugging on the corners of his mouth. 
“It’s set in the 1800s.” 
He groans, though the grin on his face definitely dampens the effort. Rain is lashing against the windows, drowning out the steady drip of the IVs and, for a moment, it feels like it used to. Like Sunday mornings at his and Freddie’s flat, when he would refuse to get up and pull me back into bed with him.
“I’m so excited.”
“I bet.” He’s laughing, properly now, and my heart flutters behind my chest. It should know better. Especially because I saw her name flash across his phone screen last night before I left. “How long is that damn thing?”
I flip to the very back of the book, catching a few of the final words even though I try to not read them. “397 pages.”
***
“How many pages?”
He used to ask how many chapters. Then it turned to pages. Because he knows it too - that we only exist like the words on paper, between the pages. Until we reach the last one. The last sentence. 
“191.”
When the story ends, so do we. But ours is a tragedy. Maybe it was always meant to be.
I come back every day. I sit next to his bed and read A Witch’s Guide to Rakes and Romance, blushing fiercely at the spicy scenes but reading it all. James covers Lily’s ears when she’s cuddled up next to him and she complains loudly while Al and Freddie laugh and Harry and Ginny exchange soft, tired smiles.
Sometimes, the room is crowded. Sometimes, it’s just us - James and me and the steady whirring of the machines - and I read to him until he falls asleep. I read to him until twilight creeps into the room and we have to turn on the neon hospital lights. 
I read to him until he can feel his legs again. 
Until the IV lines become less.
Until he can sit up by himself.
“How many?” He says and I don’t look at him.
“16.”
It’s the last chapter. And, though I know that it’s time to go, that this semi-real version of us has an expiration date, I dread every page I turn.
“What if you stayed?” James says, quietly, and I feel like I might choke. I can barely breathe.
What if I stayed?
“I - I can’t.” My fingers are clenching the book in my lap, digging into the cover for something to hold on to. This feels awful, like a second break-up, and I wish I could just fold myself into his arms. 
But I can’t and he doesn’t argue. Because he knows me too well.
His lips are pressed together as he nods, a tear sliding down the side of his face into his pillow and I’m crying too. When he reaches out, I take his hand and weave my fingers through his, careful to not dislodge the catheter in the back of his hand.
“Do you want to hear the ending now?” I ask, wiping the tears from my cheeks, and his gaze slides from my face to the book in my lap, to our intertwined fingers.
“No.” I feel his hold on me loosen, his hand slipping out of my grasp a little. “I don’t want to know how it ends.”
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