#I know this would never happened canonically so lets pretend in another life they try romance and manon still survives | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angel-eyes05 · 11 months

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to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count: 4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late.

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end.

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

NEXT CHAPTER

#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse #spider-woman reader #across the spiderverse #fem!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #spiderman #spider man #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse

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scaredpigeons · 15 days

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Aqua Regia — experimentation is for the bold.

Read Aqua Regia // masterlist

Neuvillette x Fem!reader x Wriothesley (heavy heavy wriothesley x neuvillette)

Word count: 8.6k

After being married for a few years, your husband asks if you’d be willing to… experiment a little within your intimate life. Your best friend wriothesley is happy to help.

WARNING: SMUT, NSFW 18+ MDNI

CW: m/m/f threesome, m/f and m/m sex. Wriothesley fucks you and your husband. possessiveness(neuvi), danger kink(wrio), growling, slamming into walls, making out, vaginal fingering, anal fingering(male rec), vaginal sex, anal sex(male rec), Neuvillettes inhuman tongue, mentions of Neuvillettes dragon dicks, biting, minor mentions of blood at the end, clitoral stimulation, teasing.

Authors note: okay, okay. Listen. Listen. I had to, okay? Look— it doesn’t have to be AR canon if you’re not into it. It’s not imperative to the plot. It was just so eaaaaasssyyyyyyyyyy. No, Wriothesley isn’t joining the marriage, it’s not becoming a thing, but I am a firm believer that people can fuck their besties if they wanna and it can be chill. Fuck your besties!!! Especially if they look like wriothesley!!! Let your boy best friend fuck your husband!!! Especially if your husband looks like Neuvillette!!

“Have you ever had sex with a man?”

Wriothesley spit his tea across the entirety of his desk, soaking the morning paper crossword puzzle he was half paying attention to.

“I’m sorry, what?” He sputtered, wiping the leftover tea from his mouth and gaping at you with his blue eyes wide.

You simply shrugged, pretending like his reaction wasn’t the most hilarious thing you’ve seen in months. Though, you were expecting him to react something like that.

He was your best friend, but you’d never really talked about either of your sex lives before, mostly because you didn’t have a sex life before Neuvillette, and you always felt too awkward to talk about these things with Wriothesley.

The past couple years with Neuvillette had really whittled down your self consciousness on the subject though, and your more recent conversations with your husband had left you quite curious.

“Just a question, you don't have to answer if you’re not comfortable talking about it though.” You said, nonchalantly sipping your tea, trying to hide the grin threatening its way into your cheeks.

“No, no.” He said, rolling his neck as if the shock of the moment had put a crick in it. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. You just… don’t ever talk about this kinda stuff.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable discussing it with me, that's all.” You said, setting your tea down. “That and— up until Neuvillette, I didn’t really have any experience to speak of.”

He rolled his eyes. Wriothesley often joked about how gross you and your husband were. Flirting when no one was paying attention, stolen glances across the room, poorly concealed marks on your bodies— he called you shameless, teasing you but never prying.

“Well I mean, some people may find it a bit awkward, talking about the sex life of their two best friends… who happened to be married to one another…” he said.

”Do you?” You said, tone light and teasing, almost as if challenging him. “Find it awkward?”

“Not really,” he grinned. “Actually I’ve been dying to know what he’s got going on, y’know… with the whole dragon thing.” Wriothesley made a lewd gesture towards his crotch as he spoke, making you laugh.

“Ah ah, I asked first, your questions can come later.” You teased.

He chuckled, rolling his eyes again. “Fine, fine. The answer is yes, I’ve done almost everything under the sun with as many different kinds of people as there are out there.”

“Your Grace!” You said in a mock fluster. “How scandalous! What would the people say if they knew the Duke of Meropide was such a common whore!”

”Hey!” He laughed, taking your teasing just as intended. “Just because I’m not interested in a long term relationship doesn’t mean I need to be abstinent! Let a man enjoy the simple pleasures in life, you prude.”

You snorted, covering your mouth a bit as you tried not to laugh harder, Wriothesley’s wide grin and accusatory index finger pointing at you wasn't helping.

“What’s your, uh— preference in role when it comes to that type of sex?” You asked once you’d calmed down a bit.

He snorted again, making your laughter bubble back up and threaten to burst out once more.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “it's just so funny to try and see you talk about this shit.”

“Answer me!” You giggled, trying to brush him off. “I’m trying my best, here!”

He cleared his throat, attempting to take the conversation a little more seriously. “I’ve done both, and I favor neither one nor the other. It all depends on the partner, really.”

Not that you’d ever really entertained the thought of what Wriothesley looked and acted like in bed, but you could very easily picture him in a more dominant role, taking charge and leading the experience with a well practiced hand.

But picturing him in a more submissive role? Being the receiver, his broad shoulders pressed into luxurious blankets, large hands reaching up to grasp at long, silky white hair as he—

Oh. You were getting ahead of yourself.

You took the time to clear your own throat and calm your heated cheeks, trying to keep a proper posture.

“What is your opinion on people having casual sex with close friends?” You said, trying to keep your tone level and casual, as to not expose your nerves and ruin the entire conversation. If things took a sour turn, you could easily play it off as morbid curiosity.

He seemed to answer without really thinking. “I mean, I personally don’t see a problem with it, as long as everyone is consenting and, you know… chill.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous and frequent use of cryo puns. You swear he did it just to get a rise out of you sometimes.

But he suddenly paused, most likely connecting some dots, as you figured he would.

“If I didn’t know any better, I might think this illustrious personal assistant was propositioning me on behalf of the Iudex, which would never happen,” his eyes thinned, turning a bit dark, but you could see the remnants of a grin threatening their way onto his face once more. “Would it?”

“Quite preposterous in theory, for sure.” You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to meet his eyes and instead taking a delicate sip of your tea, proper and poise. “Though in practice it might not be so improbable.”

Wriothesley��s eyes glimmered as he leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together and watching you avoid his gaze.

He made a noise of affirmation before clicking his tongue against his teeth. “Yes, yes. Well, even so, I would find it hard to believe, considering everyone in Fontaine is aware of how devoted the honorable Iudex is to his most beloved wife.”

“Yes, well.” You sat your teacup down, eyeing the rows of books he kept while willing the heat from your cheeks. “One does not live life without developing… curiosities. And perhaps his beloved wife is curious too? It’s not so obscene to imagine.”

Wriothesley tilted his head, and out of the corner of your eyes you caught him licking his lips.

“Obscene isn’t the word I’d use when imagining it, that’s for sure.”

———————

“Are you sure about this?” He asks.

“You know you can say the word at any time and this doesn’t have to continue,” You add.

“Exactly.” Wriothesley agreed. “I’m here to do what you want, there’s no expectations. I won’t be upset or offended, literally anything that happens tonight will not affect our relationship whatsoever.”

Your heart thudded against your ribcage as you watched Neuvillette look between the two of you.

Sitting down in the living room with Wriothesley and your husband was a common occurrence, many nights of cards and drinks and laughs were shared here. But tonight was very different, the air seemed electro-charged and the fire crackling in its stone fireplace was only adding more distracting noise to the sound of your heart beat thrumming through your eardrums. Could Neuvillette hear it so loudly too?

Neuvillettes eyes still danced between the two of you, and his brow raised slightly as if in disbelief.

“You are both aware that I was the one who initially proposed this idea, correct?” He asked, slow and steady as if to make sure the words really resonated. “It would be rather foolish of me to ask something like this of the two of you, only to change my mind at the last second. Unless… you both are having second thoughts on the matter?”

Both you and Wriothesley tried to express your refusal of such an accusation at the same time, making the two of you chuckle at each other with your eagerness.

“It’s not us, it’s just…” Wriothesley paused, making a circling gesture with his spread hands, as if he was trying to gather the thoughts he couldn’t quite conjure.

“My love, you have a tendency to be a bit…” you started, looking for the right phrase to not offend him too terribly much.

“Sometimes you can come across a little…” Wriothesley looked at you, cringing a bit as he hoped you would finish as if to soften the blow.

You sighed, deciding to just come right out and say it.

”Possessive.” You said. “You can be quite possessive.”

Neuvillette only nodded, seemingly unaffected.

“It is true that I can be rather possessive of my wife, as is in a dragon's nature to protect their mate, to guard their treasures carefully.” He looked to you. “Though I don’t see how that would be a problem in this situation?”

”My darling, you growled at that tea seller from Liyue when he tried to offer me a discount.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I did not enjoy the way his eyes were roaming all over your body, as if you were some kind of confectionary treat to drool over.”

“You’ve almost broken my hand just for touching her arm.” Wriothesley deadpans.

“Unrelated.” Neuvillette huffs. “I was experiencing a fluctuation in elemental energy when the full power of the hydro sovereign was returned to its rightful owner. Any irresponsible choices I might have made during that time can be written off as flukes, one time mistakes, nothing more.”

“Any irresponsible choices like, for example, courting your personal assistant without the knowledge that she was aware that was what you were doing?” Wriothesley stood from his chair, rounding the little end table that held your books to stand behind the armchair you were perched on, facing Neuvillette on the couch.

You could see the tips of your husbands ears glow red in the firelight, and you suppressed the urge to giggle when he clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“Nonsense.” He looked at you, and his eyes softened. “The decision to court you may not have been a very well thought out one, but it was a decision I will stand by for the rest of my existence.”

You flushed. He always found a way to make your heart flutter. You were so in love with this man— dragon— you were in love with your husband, and it seemed his devotion to you was an endless pool as well.

“Well, if it's unrelated, you should have no problem with me touching her again now, hmm?” Wriothesley said behind you, and you froze a bit in shock. You didn’t think he would start this so soon, but better to get going naturally, yes? Surely if you tried to talk about it forever, it would never happen.

His large, still wrapped up hands slid down your arms, fingertips dragging along your exposed skin until he was bent over the back of the chair, nuzzling into the side of your neck. His index fingers smoothed over the insides of your wrists as he breathed in your scent, a soothing gesture surely— but it only served to rile you up even more.

You looked up at Neuvillette and involuntarily whimpered at how strained he looked. His eyes were dark, menacing. His gloved hands were gripping the edge of the couch, straining the fabric as if it was seconds away from tearing and exposing the cushion. He looked like he was about to pounce, a murderous glare trained on where Wriothesley was touching you, breathing you in.

“You smell so sweet tonight, is that a new perfume?” Wriothesley whispered, making sure his breath ghosted over your ear, causing you to shiver.

“Yes,” you squeaked, still watching Neuvillette watch you.

“Just for me?” You caught him flashing that cheeky grin in your peripherals. “You shouldn’t have.”

His hands smoothed up and down your forearms, his lips barely ghosting along your throat, the tease of it all making you breathless.

“You seem far too comfortable doing such things with your best friend, Your Grace.” Neuvillettes' tone was dark, his voice was steady and smooth like usual, but there was an underlying madness creeping around the edges of his words that set your skin on fire. “Should I be concerned?”

Wriothesley pressed his smile against the sensitive skin beneath your ear, not quite a kiss but it ripped a growl from Neuvillette’s chest all the same.

“It’s fun to play pretend sometimes, isn’t it?” The Duke whispered your name softly in your ear, and you could see his eyes dip up to finally look at Neuvillette. “We can play pretend for a little while… can’t we, doll?”

You met Neuvillettes gaze. He was livid, yes. But there was a flush on his cheekbones that wasn’t there before— a heaviness to his breath that didn’t seem to come from his anger. You nodded to Wriothesley.

“I haven’t even touched you properly yet and he looks like he’s about to burst.” Wriothesley chuckled, low and breathy in your ear, but loud enough that you were sure your husband could hear. “Tell your puppy to heel, hmm? I’m just trying to get the fun started.”

Your thighs clenched together, heat pooling to your core in droves as you watched Neuvillette, all while receiving Wriothesley’s gentle and teasing ministrations.

“Neuvillette—“ you gasped as Wriothesley moved his hands to your thighs, blowing cool air in your ear. “Are you… still okay?”

Wriothesley’s warm palms gripped onto the plush of your thighs, making your legs spread almost on their own, a natural response to the kind of feelings stirring inside you, but it still made you squirm knowing it wasn’t your husband who brought such a response from you.

Neuvillette still hadn’t responded, but you figured he would voice his concerns if he truly had any. He looked as though he was fighting against all instincts, but from a quick peek to the crotch of his pants—you could tell he was just as excited as you were.

Your hips bucked up and arms tensed as Wriothesley kissed you gently on the junction between your neck and shoulder, your thinly strapped top giving him easy access to plenty of skin.

“So responsive…” Wriothesley groaned. “Aren’t you just a little treat for me.”

You bit your bottom lip as his kiss turned wet, his tongue dragging across your skin with each press of his lips.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you whined when he nibbled on your jawline, making your hands grip the arms of the chair even tighter as his hands continued their leisurely strokes on the tops of your thighs, fingertips only slightly teasing the fabric covering the inner flesh here and there.

“Such pretty little noises too,” Wriothesley said, bringing his fingertips further into the flesh of your inner thighs on the next stroke of his hands, watching the way Neuvillette lurched at the sound of your whimpers. “Does she make such pretty noises for you too, Iudex?”

Neuvillettes voice was chipped at the edges, wavering and dark, anger and lust and all other conflicting emotions swirling in the syllables as he growled out into the firelight flickering along the dark walls.

“My touch commands sounds more beautiful than you will ever pull from her, I can assure you that.”

“That sounds like a challenge to me, Monsieur.” Wriothesley was pushing it, he really was. You were honestly shocked at how well Neuvillette was handling himself thus far, but there had to be a breaking point.

The Duke of Meropide looked your Husband dead in the eyes (you only knew he did because you watched as Neuvillette met his gaze, his pupils thinning into tiny slivers,) and dragged his fingertips up your thighs, bringing his left and to press his middle and ring fingers deeply along the seam of your pants— the seam directly covering your aching core.

Your cunt throbbed at the attention and you cried out, a little startled but mostly just overwhelmed at such a heavy and sensual touch after all the light teasing.

As quickly as the touch was there it was ripped away, your body jolting back in shock as Neuvillette was suddenly upright, bolting across the few feet between the chair and couch to push Wriothesley away from you, making the Duke stumble backwards a few steps.

If he pressed him back where he stood, his back would surely collide with the bookshelves behind him, and somewhere in his instinct driven lizard brain he must have realized that, so he grabbed Wriothesley by the lapels on his vest and hauled him against the wall perpendicular to the shelves, which happened to line up quite nicely with your field of view as you turned around in the chair.

You sat on your knees and gripped the edge of the chair back as you watched them. Their profiles illuminated by the stone fireplace, the breaths in their chests heaving as they looked at each other.

Wriothesley was no small man, but he seemed so tiny as Neuvillette loomed over him, his eyes blazing down and piercing into the Duke.

“Your impudence knows no bounds, does it, little boy?” Neuvillette growled.

Oh.

Oh, did that ever do something for you.

Wriothesley cheekily grinned under his murderous glare, looking up at him without a care in the world— like one of the most powerful beings in Teyvat wasn’t pressing him up against a wall, looking like he wanted to tear him limb from limb.

Or maybe that's exactly why he looked so happy. Wriothesley used to be a bit of an adrenaline junky, didn’t he? Nothing crazy, just jumping into the water from high cliffs, picking fights with bullies much bigger than him, that sort of thing. You figured that spark must’ve died down since his sentencing to the Fortress, but it looks like it was still alive and well, glimmering up at your husband.

“Oh,” Wriothesley breathed, shifting his knee up in between Neuvillettes thighs. “I know plenty of ways to disrespect the honorable Iudex, if he’d like me to show him.”

Neuvillette let loose a sound halfway between a growl and a moan as Wriothesley pressed his thigh into Neuvillette a little harder, grinding against what was surely an aching erection.

“Or would he rather disrespect me?” Wriothesley’s breath was heaving in his chest as he pulled Neuvillettes hands from his lapel to his throat, steadying his grip there as he moved closer, pressing further. You watched as his gaze flickered from Neuvillettes eyes to his lips, before that sinful tongue came out and absentmindedly swiped across his own bottom lip.

And that was all it took.

Neuvillette crashed into him in a flurry of teeth and tongues as he devoured Wriothesley, pinning him further against the wall with his slender hands cupping around his throat.

You gaped as Neuvillette managed to slip a knee between Wriothesley’s legs now, and you nearly moaned he ground his hips against the duke, the tents in their pants pressing against each other's hips. Every few strokes they would bump into each other until Neuvillette must have decided that he preferred when they did, because he shifted until they were pressing against each other's cocks with every grind of their hips, making Wriothesley whimper out a pitiful sound that had you feeling your heartbeat pounding between your legs.

The Duke managed to pull his arms up and over Neuvillettes shoulders, wrapping his hands around the back of your husbands neck, pulling him closer as they devoured one another.

Their breaths were heavy, the grinding of their hips making you squeeze your thighs together as you watched them. You had half a mind to think that maybe you were a bit perverted for enjoying this so much, but the other half was too enraptured by the sight in front of you and the wetness pooling in your underthings to worry too much about it.

“You kiss—“ Wriothesley breathed between kisses, “—like it's a conquest.”

Neuvillette growled, pressing himself closer, squeezing the sides of Wriothesley’s throat in warning. “Only when I have a partner so desperate to be conquered.”

Neuvillette moved his hands in favor of sucking and nibbling along the exposed skin of Wriothesley’s jawline and throat, nibbling between the black wrappings and making the Duke’s knees shudder while he moaned.

His eyes caught yours where you sat and a grin pushed its way onto his heated face.

“Look at your little wife, Monsieur.”

Neuvillette turned his head, and his pupils dilated in the firelight as he caught you so shamelessly staring, face flushed and thighs surely squeezing together.

“Bedroom.” He said, voice leveling out but having no less of its ever commanding tone.

“Bedroom.” You squeaked, nodding as you nearly fell off the chair.

—————————

“I never imagined that Madame Neuvillette would be so shameless…” Wriothesley breathed in your ear as you squirmed in his lap, head lolling back onto your husband's shoulder as the Iudex sucked along your throat from where he sat behind you.

Your clothes were long tossed off, and you pulled at Wriothesley’s tie and hand wrappings, desperate to expose more of his skin. Wriothesley chuckled and moved to take it all off, his coat and vest long since discarded into the darkened corners of your bedroom.

Satisfied with Wriothesley following your needy directions, you reached over your own shoulders to pull at your husband's shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin pressing against your own.

“My love…” you whined. “More, more— I wanna feel you.”

Neuvillette brought his fingertips to your mouth, and you whined as you pinched the tip of his glove in between your teeth, holding on as he slipped his hand from the offending fabric. He brought his other hand up to do the same, and you watched as Wriothesley’s pupils blew wide at the movement.

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as you dropped the gloves in your lap, looking at Wriothesley with a face that was surely more lewd than he’d ever seen on you before.

Finally, his upper body was bare, and your hands roamed the wide expanse of his scarred skin.

“Kiss me?” You asked, looking at him through your lashes.

“What kinda question is that?” Wriothesley grinned as he leaned up to capture your lips. He tasted like tea, and a vague hint of your husband's lips from their earlier tryst downstairs.

You moaned as the duke's hands caressed your waist and cupped your breasts, his hips rocking up into you as your tongues danced together, messy and uncoordinated but so enjoyable.

Wriothesley pulled back and his eyes flickered behind you before a pained expression washed over his face.

“Damn it. Fuck. That’s so fuckin’ unfair.” The duke whined.

You looked back to see your husband shirtless, finally. You knew exactly what Wriothesley was whining about too.

Neuvillette was always beautiful, but all his finery and fabrics hid just how stunning he actually was.

His pale skin was flawless, glowing in the moonlight streaming in your bedroom window. His shoulders were broad, arms sculpted and showcasing the odd blue veins here and there. His abdominals were strong and lean, his trim waist dipped into his hips with a perfect v cut that drew your eyes directly towards the light speckling of hair that trailed below his navel. He had the body of a strong swimmer, he had the body of a being so beautiful not even the gods could compare.

He was stunning, he never failed to take your breath away even after years of the privilege of seeing him this way.

“I know exactly what you mean,” you pouted as you looked at him over your shoulder.

Neuvillettes long silky hair fell over his shoulder as he leaned in to crowd you against Wriothesley, his bare hands tipped in the faintest pale blue— the element he commanded pulsing through him too powerful to stay hidden away— running along Wriothesley’s sides to paw greedily at his chest, his arms caging you in and forcing you deeper into the dukes lap.

“You both act as if your forms do not beget a reaction so feral and obscene that it makes ones insides shudder in anticipation.” Neuvillette growled, his fingers trailing through the dark hairs coating Wriothesley’s chest.

Wriothesley groaned as you reached down to join your husband's perusal of his chest. Neuvillette was right about one thing at least— as beautiful as your dragon sovereign was, Wriothesley was a different sort of attractive altogether.

Wriothesley was thick. All broad shoulders and corded muscle, large arms that looked like they could pick you up and toss you across a room without issue. His waist didn’t cut in as narrow as Neuvillettes, his abdominals less defined, but you could still see the strength in him tense as you ran your hands across his body. Scarred, marked by his past tribulations and coated in a speckling of hair that just screamed that rugged sort of sexy that made your mouth water.

“Fuck,” the duke said, tossing his head back as Neuvillette ran his nails from chest to navel. “Is he always so quick with the flowery dirty talk?”

You smiled, squirming down on his lap, surely making a mess of the front of his pants. “You act like it didn’t make your cock jump.”

You bit your lip and moaned as Wriothesley grinned and bucked his hips up against your cunt as punishment.

Neuvillette leaned closer, his head dipping above your shoulder to mouth at Wriothesley’s jawline as you were squeezed between them, helpless and turned on with the Duke's erection pressing at your core and your husbands twitching against your ass.

“Your insistence on tormenting my wife will not go unchecked, Your Grace.” Neuvillette whispered as his hands pawed at the Duke's chest once more.

You could hear Wriothesley’s breath hitch as you squirmed further into his lap, and you felt your husband grab and squeeze at him while dragging nibbling kisses along his throat and jawline.

“You’re so fucking good, Neuvillette, shit—“ Wriothesley moaned, stumbling over his words a bit. “Damnit— I want to fuck you so badly.”

Everything seemed to still for a moment. Neuvillette leaned back, letting you look at Wriothesley’s flushed face and heaving chest. His cock was straining against his pants beneath you, you could feel it twitching as he looked up at both of you.

“Do you really?” Neuvillette asked.

“Wha— what?” Wriothesley breathed.

“Do you want to fuck him?” You said, sounding equally as breathless.

Wriothesley seemed confused for a moment, before his eyes darted between the two of you, his face still tinged pink.

“With the way things were going… I figured he’d be the one to— but if you—“

“Do you want to fuck Neuvillette, Wriothesley?” You asked, lowering your tone into something more sultry as you looked at him through heavy lashes.

“Fuck—“ he groaned, his eyes rolling back a bit. “Fuck yes. Yes— you have no idea.”

You both slid off of him, and Neuvillette grabbed at his thighs to pull his legs to the edge of the bed. You sat beside the Duke, watching intently as your husband lowered himself to the ground between Wriothesleys knees.

Wriothesley sat up, looking at the Iudex on his knees in front of him, and his face suddenly turned a whole new shade of red.

“You don’t have to— I mean, I said I was—“

“I want to try. Let me try it?” Neuvillettes' tone was a lot softer now that Wriothesleys hands weren’t actively on you, and you knew that would be the case.

Wriothesley propped himself up with his hands behind him. “Fuck, yes. Yes— okay.”

You leaned over to help Neuvillette undo Wriothesley pants, wanting an up close look at the way his face would change when he saw Wriothesley’s cock. And he did not disappoint you.

His eyes widened and pupils dilated as Wriothesley’s cock burst from its confines, the weight of it making it droop a bit to the side instead of smacking against his stomach. You felt your own mouth water at the sight of it. He was long and obscenely thick, you think he was perhaps even thicker than your husband, and you could see the way Neuvillettes gaze took it in, watching the gears turn in his mind as he realized he was going to try and fit this thing inside him.

A taste of your own medicine, much? You wanted to snicker.

Neuvillettes eyes dipped over to you, a look of hesitation flickering across his features. You smiled down at him, reaching a hand to card your fingers through his hair.

“Take it slowly, darling. You know what feels good, just let yourself have fun with it, okay?” You said.

He looked to Wriothesley, who just silently nodded in agreement, hands fisting the blankets and staring in almost disbelief at Neuvillette between his legs.

Finally, finally, Neuvillette leaned in and let his hot and wet tongue lick up Wriothesley’s shaft before releasing its inhuman length out to curl lewdly around the head of it, lapping up the pre-come dripping from the tip.

Wriothesley shuddered, his eyes widening even more as a desperate sound of shock was ripped from his throat, and he pulled away, scurrying himself back up the bed.

“OH!— okay okay OHkay—“ he yelped as he scrambled back. “If we keep doing that shit I’ll be done in five seconds flat. What the fuck?”

You giggled, looking at Neuvillettes' disappointed pout as Wriothesley panted beside you.

“Yeah, I had about the same reaction the first time too— though I let him keep going.”

Wriothesley sighed. “Yeah well— I said I was going to fuck him.”

The Duke shuffled out of his pants fully, tossing them on the floor. His thick thighs flexing as he kneeled on the bed.

“Sorry, sorry. We can try that again another time.” He took a deep breath, grounding himself. “If it pleases the honorable Iudex, I’d have him lie on the bed and make himself comfortable.”

Neuvillette eyed the cock still hanging hard between Wriothesley’s thighs, but listened without complaint, laying himself down on the pillows.

“Good.” Wriothesley said, the flush in his cheeks slowly dying down to something more reasonable.

He crawled closer, kneeling in between Neuvillettes spread legs, eyeing him for signs of discomfort as he slowly reached for the buttons of his pants. Neuvillette simply relaxed his face, lifting up his hips when Wriothesley pulled at the waistband to tug them off his body.

To Wriothesley, it probably looked like Neuvillette was in calm indifference, just going with the motions, but underneath, you could see your husband brimming with nerves and anticipation, his eyes blazing with need. Your husband was just incredibly used to schooling his own emotions into a mask, he was doing so now to hide his nervousness.

As his pants and undergarments were finally pulled from him, his cock twitched, long and hard and leaking as he laid there, and you simply couldn’t help yourself. You leaned down and took the head of it into your mouth, giving him a few firm sucks just to loosen the tension in his spine.

He moaned, his hand coming to your shoulder as he squirmed. You pulled away, smirking at the flush now coating his face.

Wriothesley whistled as he took in Neuvillettes completely naked form, running his hand along a smooth milky thigh, thumbing gently where it meets his hip.

Neuvillette squirmed, his hand reaching for yours. You grasped it gently, smiling up at Wriothesley. “He’s fine, just getting all quiet because he’s nervous.” You explained when wriothesley looked to you in concern.

“Nervous?” Wriothesley chuckled. “After all that? He’s nervous now?”

“Se—“ Neuvillette stuttered. “Nervousness during sexual exploration is normal, however sharing new experiences with someone that one has no sexual experience with prior can be cause for some anxiety. I am… I am fine— eager, even.”

Wriothesley smirked affectionately, rubbing Neuvillettes thighs. “Well that's good. Is it alright if I touch you now?”

”You may.” Neuvillette breathed.

You continued to hold his hand as you sat down by his hips, eyeing the way Wriothesley squeezed his inner thighs appreciatively.

His large calloused hands spread up and cupped around Neuvillettes pelvis, his thumbs gently running along his balls, watching gleefully as the Iudex twitched under his teasing touch.

A hand finally came up to grasp his cock, starting a slow pace of languid strokes, making you both eye the precome beading at his tip as Neuvillette bit his lip and watched.

“You know, I was expecting something a little more… dragon-like down here.” Wriothesley teased, eyeing Neuvillettes cock before tracing his gaze appreciatively all over his naked body. “You’re fucking ridiculously big, and so damn flawless it’s certainly a little inhuman… but not what I was expecting.”

Neuvillette watched as Wriothesley’s hand picked up the pace, only to slow right down once more, his calloused fingers squeezing here and there as his other hand still teased the junction between his pelvis and thigh.

“This is my… least alarming form.” Neuvillette breathed, and you watched as his brow twitched. he was certainly holding back. “I thought it appropriate to keep the experience as close to… normal as possible.”

“His other form is so pretty,” you pouted, twirling your index finger around Neuvillettes pert nipple, the pink flesh pebbling from all the attention. “But he wont let me play with them… he says I’ll just end up hurting myself.”

“Them?” Wriothesley’s hand paused as he looked at you with a raised brow.

You gave him a cheeky grin, raising up two fingers as you glanced down at Neuvillettes cock. Wriothesley audibly swallowed as you gestured a measurement well over a foot with your hands and mouthed the word big with some finality in your expression.

“Your mortal body is not equipped to deal with such—“ Neuvillette was cut off by his own choked groan as Wriothesley bent down to lap at the head of his cock, blue eyes still staring up at your husband with such intensity.

“You’re telling me you have two cocks?” Wriothesley teased between strokes of his hand and tongue, watching as Neuvillette writhed on the bed. “And you’ve been holding out on our girl here?”

Neuvillette’s head snapped up, glaring at Wriothesley between his spread legs.

“Mine.” His voice was a rasping growl, eyes aflame. “Not yours.”

You watched Wriothesley shudder, his grin ever present as he simply continued the strokes and little licks around your husband's leaking cock.

“Oh fuck, that’ll never not be hot.” He murmured almost to himself as Neuvillette settled back down at your soothing touch running along his chest.

“He’s just teasing you, my love.” You whispered to him, nibbling along his pointed ear. “Everyone knows I belong to you.”

“You have to let me see them,” Wriothesley chuckled as he sat back up, pinching along Neuvillettes thighs. The sight of your husband spread wide and flushed was enough to send pulses of searing heat between your legs, and you simply couldn’t take it anymore.

Neuvillette cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with The Duke as you settled to lay down on the bed beside him, rolling on to your side to face him. You nuzzled into your husbands neck, kissing and nibbling at his skin as if it would soothe the ache in your core.

“Perhaps another time.” Neuvillette didn't sound very thrilled, in fact he sounded rather embarrassed. You remember how long it took to convince him to let you see his more dragonian features.

Wriothesley smiled at the premise of another time, another instance of this happening between the three of you. It seemed that he certainly wasn’t going to object.

“Lubricant?” The Duke asked.

“Top drawer, right side.” You mumbled from your mission of scattering purpling marks along your husband's collar bones.

You felt Wriothesley shift as you wrapped your arms around Neuvillettes neck, bringing your lips to his for a fervent kiss. He consumed you, his inhuman tongue twirling with yours and dipping deeper than usual, teasing your gag reflex and pushing little tears to form at the corners of your eyes.

Wriothesley was back, spreading the lubricant along his fingers. “I’ll start slow, okay?”

“I am not made of glass, your Grace.” Neuvillette scoffed slightly as he paused your kiss.

“Have you done this before?” He looked between the two of you.

“No, I didn't want to hurt him, I’ve never done anything like this.” You said, looking up at Wriothesley before your eyes were pulled right back to the lewd sight of Neuvillette running his tongue along his bottom lip.

“Exactly. I know what I’m doing. Let me do it.”

You and your husband nodded, seemingly more interested in sucking on each other's tongues than Wriothesley’s scolding. That is, until Neuvillette paused, his eyes widening.

“There, there's one. How is it?”

A rough breath pushed from Neuvillettes nose, as he shifted, and you watched the muscles in Wriothesley’s arm flex as he pumped the digit in and out of your husband, slowly and with a careful gaze.

“It is… different.” Neuvillette finally said, letting you nibble on his bottom lip.

“Good. Please say something if you feel any pain or discomfort.” Wriothesley’s eyes were sparkling as his eyes flipped between watching the two of you and watching his finger sink in and out of Neuvillettes hole. “Think you can take another?”

“Yes.”

Wriothesley’s fingers were thick, you knew that. Watching Neuvillettes face change color as Wriothesley pressed a second finger inside made you writhe beside him.

A small noise left Neuvillette as Wriothesley started his slow pumps once more, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. You rolled to your back, immediately spreading your legs and running fingers along your clit, still watching your husband try to hang on to his composure.

You whined as Neuvillette gripped the blankets beneath him, his breaths becoming heavier as his face grew more red. Wriothesley was picking up the pace, slowing every now and then with a focused expression, as if he was looking for something.

The Duke watched you as he kept going, smirking down at your shameless display.

”Awe, you both just have such greedy little holes, don’t you?” His hand wrapped around your ankle, pulling you down the bed closer to him. A surprised squeak left your lips, and you watched with wide eyes as Wriothesley reached his free hand over to pet at your leaking cunt, fingertips slipping through and pressing so wonderfully.

He pressed the tip of one finger into your hole, before pulling back out and squeezing two inside you, slow and hot and so good. You keened at the stretch, your achey walls screaming at the sensation of finally being stimulated.

“There you go, ‘that what you needed, pretty girl?” he asked.

You nodded obediently, spreading your legs further as he pumped his fingers in and out of your hole, your back arching as you moaned and cried for him.

You turned to look at your husband, who was surely fuming at another man touching you so blatantly, but you were only met with a flushed and panting mess.

It seemed in your distraction, Wriothesley had added another finger, and Neuvillette was reacting sensationally to the pleasure. His voice was still held back, but you saw his eyes glazed over with lust, his little fanged teeth biting into his bottom lip.

Before you could get too distracted, Wriothesley crooked his fingers inside you, making you sob out and arch your back as he prodded at your g-spot.

To your surprise, Neuvillette cried out at the same time as you, a loud whine being ripped from his throat.

“Found it,” Wriothesley grinned.

The dam had finally cracked, though only a trickle of Neuvillettes true expressions were leaking through. He softly groaned, his eyes rolling back as his horns glowed, his hands nearly tearing holes in the sheets.

“Yeah?” You breathed, still spinning from Wriothesley’s fingers stroking inside you. “Does it feel good, my love? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Your Grace,” Neuvillette panted, tilting his head up to meet Wriothesley’s heavy gaze. “I… I need—“

“What do you need, Your Honor?” Wriothesleys hands pumped in sync now, heavy strokes of his fingers stimulating you both. His smirk was smug, his eyelids heavy and cool eyes blazing.

You could feel your core tightening, the pleasure mounting inside you.

“Wrio…” You keened.

“Fuck, who knew that you’d both be such sluts? You’re both just begging for cock, aren’t you?”

He leaned down, pressing a messy kiss to Neuvillettes lips, and you watched Wriothesley nibble on his bottom lip before pulling away from your husband completely, slipping his hands from the both of you.

“Let me get you riled up before I fuck you, hmm? You’re so hot when you’re being possessive.”

Neuvillette looked confused for a moment but the realization dawned across his face as Wriothesley moved to gather your thighs in his hands, pushing your knees back until they rested on either side of your head.

“Just need a little taste of it, sweetheart.” Wriothesley murmured, running his ridiculously thick cock along your folds.

You squirmed, hands balling into tight fists in anticipation. Looking at Neuvillette, you watched as his eyes grew dark once more, and he looked as if he was going to rip Wriothesley away from you at any moment.

“The more fuss you put up, the longer I’ll fuck her— which means the more you’ll have to wait.” Wriothesley teased the head of his cock against your hole, and your back arched as if to encourage him.

Neuvillette settled back, though a deep predatory noise rumbled from his chest, and you could feel Wriothesley’s cock twitch against you.

“Fuck, I’ll never get over that.” The Duke nearly whined.

“Please,” you whimpered, your words starting to slur from the fog clouding your mind. “I wan’ it”

”Yeah? Think you can handle it?” Wriothesley added more pressure, wetting the tip of his already weeping cock, teasing you further. “You only took two fingers, you think that's enough to take this?”

”Please, please,” you bucked your hips, whining again when he pulled back. “I can take it, I can take it, I swear.”

Wriothesley chuckled, low and deep and so seductive. “If you say so…”

After a moment that felt like it dragged on for hours, Wriothesley finally pressed into you, and your eyes blew wide, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

He was thick. You were so insistent on taking him, you didn’t think about the consequences of not being adequately prepared. In a perfect world, you’d have likely taken three or even four of the Duke's lovely fingers and perhaps a couple orgasms to loosen yourself up before taking this claymore of a cock.

But oh, were you a glutton for punishment.

It stretched you so completely, not unlike the way it felt the first time your husband entered you this way, though he always seemed to prepare you more than necessary to ensure your comfort and pleasure.

“Think I can wring one out of you before I fuck your husband?” Wriothesley grinned as he bottomed out, watching your face as you tried to process how ridiculously full you felt. It was like he was in your throat, carving out a new space in your insides just for him to fit into perfectly.

Then he started moving.

Your cunt instantly fluttered around him, the position he had you pressed into forced the fat head of his cock to press against your g spot with insane precision, and the Duke slowly worked his thrusts into a rough slapping of your hips, until he was fucking you at cruel and brutal pace.

“Oh, oh!” You cried out, unable to do anything but take it, staring at the ceiling as your walls fluttered around him, squeezing and clenching as your orgasm built.

You could hear your husband's low growls, but you could also hear a secondary wet noise, prompting you to glance over in your haze of pleasure.

You keened out as you saw Neuvillette stroking himself in time with Wriothesley’s thrusts, his eyes dark and menacing but the twitch of his cock was unmistakable.

“Yeah, that's it sweetheart,” Wriothesley groaned. “Give it to me.”

And you did.

It shattered through you, the build up so quick and harsh that the tipping point had you crying out, writhing around in his hold as you came with such force it made you squeal.

“Good,” Wriothesley whispered, gently pumping his cock into you, prolonging your pleasure. “Good girl.”

You felt a cool hand reach for your thigh, your husband's possessive growling reaching closer to your ears, before Wriothesley’s hands pushed him away, his cock slipping from you rather quickly as he pinned Neuvillette to the bed beside you.

“Nuh-uh,” he chided. “Good boys wait their turn, monsieur.”

“I‘ll tear your hands from your body if you do not use them properly in the next five seconds, Wriothesley.”

“Ooh, violent.” Wriothesley smiled, pinning both of Neuvillettes hands within one of his own, bringing the free one down to run a thumb along your husband's bottom lip. “But I believe that would be a most heinous crime, Monsieur. And though I don't think you’d last a week down in the fortress, I’d make sure your time there was very, very comfortable.”

Wriothesley pressed his hips against Neuvillette, rubbing their cocks together in a lewd squelch that made you whimper and flush, realizing that it was your own arousal coating Wriothesley and making the slide of their lengths so wet and smooth.

“Let me fuck you,” Wriothesley breathed as he stared into Neuvillettes heated eyes. “Fuck, I need it.”

Neuvillette keened, his cock twitching and drooling where Wriothesley pressed against him. Though his brow was still furrowed, his hands still thrashing in the Duke's grip, he nodded, murmuring something that sounded like a breathy “please”.

Wriothesley wasted no time reaching down to thrust three fingers back into Neuvillettes hole before pulling out and lining his cock up, still dripping in your juices.

“It’ll be a lot at first, just try to relax for me.” He murmured against Neuvillettes ear, his muscular forearm tensing where it held him up.

You watched as he pressed forward, as your husband's mouth fell open, his eyes widening as he gazed up at The Duke, his hands clutching the sheets beneath him.

Your mind was in a haze, watching as Wriothesley started his slow and sensuous pace, the line of his hips driving into Neuvillette in a way that made your insides shudder.

His voice was a symphony of broken little sounds, smaller and more vulnerable than you were used to hearing, but his flushed face and bite-swollen lips looked so enticing.

“Is that good?” Wriothesley whispered as he leaned over him, pushing your husband's thighs wider, further back. “You like it?”

Neuvillette released a weak whimper, and you could see the wetness pooling behind his ethereal eyes. Even so, he gave a delicate little nod.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, beautiful.” Wriothesley groaned, his pace quickening. “Fuck, between the two of you, I’m not going to last long.”

You realized you were absently swirling your fingertips along your puffy clit, the pleasure in you from watching them too much for you to handle— you needed release.

Wriothesley’s eyes flickered between the two of you, watching you both, and you could see the muscles in his abdomen tighten.

“Gods—“ Wriothesley made the mistake of moaning out that dreaded word.

Neuvillettes legs snapped around his waist, his clawed hands gasping at his shoulders, at his back as he pulled Wriothesley closer and growled.

“No.” He rasped, fire burning in his gaze as his claws pulled at Wriothesley’s shoulder blades, making the duke shudder and cry out. “No gods. Only me.”

Your fingers stuttered as your thighs shook, your high approaching much sooner than you realized, your sensitive folds dripping and aching for it.

“Oh, fuck—“ Wriothesley groaned, leaning down to breathe into the crook of Neuvillettes neck as his hips stuttered too. “Neuvillette—“

Neuvillette did something you’ve only seen him do a few times, on occasions of high intensity and emotional wreckage during your intimate moments. It was a primal and animalistic act, a response brought on through his instincts and inner feelings, typically hidden by his proper decorum and high intellect.

He opened his mouth wide and latched his teeth possessively into the meat of Wriothesley’s trapezius muscle, deep and firm.

Wriothesley nearly screamed, his hands white knuckling the sheets as he came, gasping and pumping into your husband with a shocked and embarrassed expression, the blush on his face so extreme it trailed down to his shoulders.

Neuvillette groaned, and you watched his cock jump and spray deep splatters of white across his chest and abdomen, even up onto Wriothesley— all while still latched onto him, teeth baring down possessively into the flesh. Small rivulets of blood began pooling where his tongue wasn’t laving it up, and you shuddered and came at the sight of it all.

Your body arched, mind going blank as it hit you.

When your sight returned, all you could hear were three sets of panting breaths, three pounding hearts in the moonlight pooling in the room.

Your heart stuttered out a little bout of jealousy at the sight of Wriothesley petting your husbands silky hair as he soothed him away from his aching shoulder, watching the droplets of blood pool in the wetness left behind from his mouth.

But as Neuvillette relaxed back into the pillows, wriothesley looked up at you with a cheeky grin, wriggling his eyebrows at you, and suddenly the stillness of the room was broken by your unfiltered giggles.

Wriothesley joined you, his chuckling making Neuvillette look at you both in utter confusion. The Duke of Meropide raised his hand, and you limply sat up to meet it, clapping your hand against it in a high five both childish and out of place for the aftermath of such a heated exchange.

“That was… crazy.” Wriothesley said, pulling himself from Neuvillette and sitting back on the bed.

Your giggles calmed, and you snuggled up against your still gaping husband, who continued to look between the two of you with a flushed face and furrowed brow.

“Yeah, I was not expecting it to be like that.” You said as you ran your hands along Neuvillettes chest, soothing him.

You were expecting a bit more awkward tension— but then again, Wriothesley was your best friend. Everything felt easy with him, and even in the aftermath, you couldn’t help but feel light and happy, not an ounce of shame or awkwardness to speak of.

“This exchange…” Neuvillette looked between the two of you, wincing as he tried to sit up less than gracefully. “…is it a positive one? I understand that laughing has more than one meaning, I trust that this means you both enjoyed yourselves?”

You and Wriothesley looked at him, and then each other before you both burst out in another fit of giggles.

“Mmn.” Neuvillette hummed, his face now relaxed and serene. “I take it you’re staying to do our laundry, Your Grace?”

Wriothesley’s laughter sobered up in an instant. “Uh, what?”

“Well, considering that you’ve yet to clean up the mess you left between my legs, which I can feel attempting to drip onto my silk bed sheets, I assume you’re planning on washing them after you’re done relaxing?”

Neuvillette wasn't one for unnecessary messes, always rushing to clean you up after your trysts. He wasn't opposed to a mess or two, but would very promptly strip the bed afterwards to avoid staining his very expensive and very old silks.

Now it was your turn to giggle alone as Wriothesley’s eyes widened at the space between your husbands open thighs, tumbling off the bed in his haste with a grumbled “oh, shit!” As he raced to find a cloth.

“Thank you for indulging me, my love.” Neuvillette whispered against your temple as he pressed a kiss there, holding you closer.

“Do you have any more ideas?” You smirked, and he smiled finally, scrunching his nose playfully at you.

——————————————

Authors note: not my finest work, i kinda lost interest halfway through if you can’t tell. I still wanted to finish it and actually have something to post for y’all while i crawl my way out of this creative block, so visiting the old wips is a must. Anyways, let me know what you think, comments and reblogs are most important!! Love you all so much. —Rae🖤

#neuvillette smut #wriothesley smut #neuvillette x female reader #neuvillette x reader #wriothesely x reader #wriothesley x fem reader #wriothesley x neuvillette #wriolette #wriolette smut #wriolette x reader #wriolette x reader smut #ARu #that stands for aqua regia universe lol

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oopsitszuli · 10 months

Note

Grieving!Miguel x reader where he constantly goes back to a universe where they’re still married but every time he goes back he tries to make the best of it knowing that their time is limited due to the readers inevitable death and he tries his best to put a stop to it every time

"You Happened." (Miguel O'Hara x FEM!Reader! Angst Drabbles/Scenario.)

Authors note: And it is here! The long-awaited Miguel Angst fic. Thank you all so much for being so patient with me surrounding this fic. Death is a hard topic to write about for me, but I knew this was something I really wanted to write. Please read with caution, and once again, thank you for your patience.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Death, grief, depression, mentions of violence, angst, depictions of spousal death, murder, and funeral mentions.

Miguel knew he was obsessive- or, as he called it, 'work-oriented'. Jessica and Lyla didn’t have to tell him twice. Miguel O’Hara was so obsessed with canon events and keeping the multiverse in line that it kept him cooped up in the Spider-Society headquarters or away in another universe for longer than he wanted. But he did it all to protect the one good thing in his life. Every minute spent working, every fight against an anomaly, no matter how bloody, was all for her. It was all for you. (Y/n) O’Hara, Miguel’s wife and the love of his life.

He knew he probably worked for too long, but that fact was reinstated when he returned from a three-day-long anomaly hunt in a far-off universe. Nueva York was dreary when he returned, and the rain that poured outside was relentless. Miguel hated the rain, although it was always your favorite, so he decided not to let it bother him too much. After containing the anomaly, Miguel returned to his office, only to be met by a somber Peter B. and an emotionless Lyla. He questioned their presence immediately, only to be told to sit down.

The news that reached Miguel made his world stop.

You had died. No- you had been murdered. According to Peter, you were trying to visit him at the Spider-Society headquarters when you were suddenly attacked by a villain who had discovered Miguel’s affections for you, and while you suffered, he was away in a far-off world, none the wiser to his wife’s murder. Miguel remained motionless in his chair, his body weak as the tears streamed down his face relentlessly. He wasn’t there when you needed him most, and now you were gone because of him. You were gone, and he was never going to see you again. Nothing even mattered anymore.

His mind was a swarm of grief. Anger consumed his every moment, and his eyes grew sore from having cried non-stop for as long as he could recall. His hours were now dedicated to sitting in the home you two had shared, curled up in a pile of your clothes and holding them close to his chest just so he could pretend you were still there. He lay motionless, holding tightly to your favorite t-shirt and crying loudly, he cursed out apologies until his voice was hoarse and continued after. He let you die. He did everything to protect you, and he still failed.

Having to bury your body in a closed coffin destroyed Miguel in a way he never thought possible. He sat next to your grave for hours until Jessica finally coaxed him away from you, and even then, he fought against her relentlessly. Work was abandoned, his duties ignored, and If anyone dared criticize his shutdown, they found themselves removed from the Spider-Society within a matter of seconds. Miguel was completely and totally lost, he was so desperate to feel you against him again, to smell your perfume, to kiss you…and he would never get that privilege again.

That’s when the idea hit him.

{{

“Miguel, you can’t…you said it yourself; The multiverse can’t be tampered with! Her death was a canon event!" Lyla was cut off as Miguel glared at her holographic figure. His gaze was unwavering, and it was apparent to the woman that he was a second from snapping at anyone who spoke against his plans. Lyla sighed softly, she hated seeing him like this, and deep down, she knew that if she were human, her heart would be breaking for him with every second they spent near each other. He looked a mess, obviously having been awake for days while in the throws of his grief, but even then, he stood here, dawned in civilian clothes but still covering his face with his normal Spider-Man mask and tapping relentlessly at the watch on his wrist.

“I don’t care, Lyla. That’s my wife, and I’m going to find her.” Miguel snapped at her. Lyla winced before sighing softly. She knew how much this was killing him, but she also knew that no matter what he did, no matter what (Y/n) he found, she would never be his again.

“Miguel, you could destroy the universe she lives in…and you’d just lose her again.” Lyla attempted to reason with him; her voice was soft, bordering on a whisper, Miguel continued to glare at her. His glare usually had no effect on Lyla, but this one was different from all the others…He was lost. Completely and utterly lost. So as a portal to a new dimension opened, Lyla only sighed.

“Fine. If I can’t stop you…Just promise me that you’ll be careful, Miguel.” She closed her eyes as her arms crossed over her torso. The man only nodded before disappearing in a flash of color, tapping at the watch on his wrist, Miguel would find (Y/n), and when he did, he promised himself that he would never let her go again.

The city he arrived to was almost indescribable. Vibrant hues of blues, pinks, and soft pastel oranges mixed effortlessly in the night sky. This was Nueva York, without a doubt, but this was definitely not his Nueva York. Once chromatic buildings that he had been so familiar with now were dimly hued in shades of navy blue and dusk pink, the lights from buildings surrounding them reflecting off of the glassy windows. Miguel closed the portal behind him, the mask on his face disappearing in seconds and allowing him to feel the cold raindrops that fell around him in their entirety. The feeling of the cold air against his face, the water trickling down his cheeks, and the brisk wind filling his senses almost made the man fall to his knees. She was here. Somewhere in this city was his wife, and she was waiting for him. He assured that he had traveled to a universe on the same night his counterpart in this universe died, knowing it would be easier to replace him since this universe’s Miguel’s body would go undiscovered for months after his death. The thought sent a shiver up Miguel’s spine, but he brushed it off. He was going to save (Y/n) the feeling of the grief that consumed him so effortlessly. She would never know her Miguel died, all she would know is that her lover was home in her arms every night, and the only one who would know the truth would be Miguel. Lying to her never crossed his mind in the ten years they’d been married, but now, he would live a lie just to live with her. So, with a deep breath, Miguel swung from the rooftop of the building, masking himself again and beginning to search the city for his long-lost love.

Miguel was searching for what felt like hours before he finally locked his eyes on an ivy-covered building resting neatly between buildings identical to itself. The lights were on, open windows allowed him to peer into the home effortlessly from the rooftop of a building across the way. His heart stopped as a figure walked in front of the window, a saccharine smile on her face as stopped to look out of the window, as if she were taking in the city block around her for the first time. Miguel froze. She looked up at the rooftop. Their eyes met so easily, her jaw dropping slightly and Miguel swinging into action before his mind could process the feelings exploding in his chest. He knew she was racing for the door the moment he left the rooftop, but as his feet hit the porch of her house and the large oak door swung open, Miguel felt the sadness facing him head-on.

“Miguel?” She said softly, a tinge of disbelief lining her tone as she stood standing in the brightly lit doorway looking up at her lover. “You’re al-" Miguel didn’t let her finish her sentence as he picked her up into his arms, holding (Y/n) close to his massive build as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with his foot. He hugged her so gently, afraid of breaking her, as tears began to stream down his cheeks relentlessly.

“Te extrañé mucho mi princesa..” He spoke between shaky breaths of air, not caring if his sadness may reveal the truth of his identity immediately, only caring that she was in his arms again. After a moment, he felt her arms wrap around him, her soft hands carding into his hair as she held him close to her body.

“Rough day at work?” She questioned softly. Miguel buried his face in the crook of her neck, desperate to be as close to her body as possible. He took in a deep breath, the scent of her perfume filtering into his nose and making the man feel his knees grow weak.

“You have no idea..” Miguel chuckled softly, collecting himself as he begrudgingly pulled himself free from her hold. She was here. She was breathing. She was alive…His wife was alive. And as she looked up at him, eyes glimmering in the lamplight of the foyer of their house, Miguel felt all of his grief begin to shift. “You know that I love you, right?” He spoke oh so softly. His heart skipped a beat as she nodded slowly, a smile on her lips and her hands taking hold of his.

“I do…And I love you too.” Your words were gentle, just like they always were. “Now come on, Mrs. Behnam dropped off some Halva, and it looks absolutely delicious.” Gently, you urged him to follow you as you tugged on his hands. Miguel chuckled softly before nodding. He didn’t care if what he was doing was wrong, he was here with you, and you were alive and breathing.

He wouldn’t ever let you go again.

The week that followed was the happiest Miguel had been in a very long time. Holding you close to his body in the night, kissing your lips so sweetly, and spending the days with you in the comfort of your apartment. It was paradise.

Although. Miguel had noticed some oddities in the past week…you seemed duller than you should be, with bags under your eyes and exhaustion riddling your face. You looked almost dreadful. He knew It couldn’t be because of his counterpart’s death seeing as you were none the wiser to the fact. But still, he heard muffled sobs escaping the bathroom in the dead of the night when you slipped away from him, he caught the moments you would wipe at your lips after he kissed you, and he found it strange that you seemingly never let him be seen outside of the house. It was strange, he’d admit it, but if it meant he got to be with you, he would conform to whatever you wished from him.

A week. That’s all Miguel would get. One week of happiness and blissful ignorance is all he would get. On the night of the first Sunday he would spend there, he found you standing alone on the balcony of your home, looking out at the city around you as you took in the peaceful night. His eyes were locked on your figure, and immediately he knew something was wrong.

“(Y/n), darling? Are you ok?” Miguel’s voice was barely a whisper as he walked to your side. Slowly, his hand found its place on the small of your back, ever so slowly daring to inch up to your shoulder. You remained silent, only leaning against the iron rod fencing around the area of your balcony as Miguel examined the side of your face. Miguel felt his heart begin to race, and he couldn’t deny that he was consumed with worry as he noticed the smile you normally wore was long gone. As his hand landed on your shoulder, he felt your body shudder, and his eyes widened.

You were crying.

Tears streamed down your face with no remorse, not even daring to spare you the embarrassment of being discovered by Miguel in this state. The brunette man beside you felt his free hand move without hesitation, preparing to place itself on your cheek and wipe away your tears before you flinched away from his touch. His hand faltered, and his heart threatened to stop.

“Stop.” You spoke bitterly, a heart-wrenching glare shooting up at Miguel as his hand pulled back quickly. ‘What?’ His mind took off faster than he could handle, ‘What happened?’ He questioned internally, his heart skipping beats as nerves crept up his body. This past week was paradise for him and you, every minute of every day was spent with him pampering you with the love you deserved. He thought back to every second he’d spent in your presence, trying to figure out what he could have done to upset you. And he kept drawing blanks.

“(Y/n)? Sweetheart, what happened?” He asked oh so gently. His words were hushed, each one delivered with such carefulness it seemed as though he were afraid of hurting you by simply speaking. Your eyes flickered up to his, your heart faltering as you noticed the expression now painted on his face. Miguel looked so lost, his eyes glimmering with fear as he looked down at you steadily, his gaze didn’t falter as you straightened your posture and ran your hands over your flushed cheeks. A soft sigh escaped your lips, and your glare seemed to soften as you noticed the worry painted across his face. Miguel knew you’d seen this worry before, if not on him, on the face of his counterpart. But at this moment, the way you looked at him made his heart skip a beat, the anger in your eyes was entirely new, and you looked at him like he was someone you didn’t know.

“You happened.” You whispered. Your voice was bitter with betrayal, a wave of anger lacing your tone so easily it was almost as though it was natural for you. Miguel felt his eyes widen, taken aback by your comment. He almost stumbled backward, feeling as though he had just been hit by a freight train at full speed. 'He happened? What?' His confusion was evident as he looked at you.

“You’re not my Miguel….” A soft sigh escaped your lips as you reigned in your tears. Miguel felt his heart skip a beat.

You knew.

You figured him out.

Oh god. You knew...

“What?” He asked breathlessly. His hand pulled away from your body as he took a step back. Your eyes scanned him over, bitterness dripping from your gaze as you did.

“My Miguel had a crooked scar on the bridge of his nose and a lopsided smile.” You pointed to Miguel’s face before your hand fell back to your side, “My husband died three weeks ago…he died in my arms…I buried him alone….you are not him.” Your voice was soft as you spoke, pain evident in your tone. Miguel couldn’t even begin to defend himself. What he’d done was horrible. The realization of the pain he must have caused you tore a shaky gasp from his lips as he looked away from you.

“You died in my universe..” He began, only for you to cut him off all too quickly.

“And you died here.” You snapped at him, “But I didn’t steal my dead husband’s multiverse goober and run off to find some grieving Miguel and try to replace myself.” Your argument was valid, but Miguel couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it. He knew what he did was wrong, he just didn’t want to accept the reality.

“It’s not a goober- it’s a gizmo..” Was all he could respond. You let out a laugh of pure annoyance. His audacity was truly record-breaking.

“That is really not important right now.” You hissed through gritted teeth. Miguel looked back at you, the defeat on his face apparent.

“Sorry.” He murmured. You only rolled your eyes. “Please, (Y/n), You have to understand why I did this…I had a chance to have my wife back-.” He began to try and defend himself, but you quickly shut him down.

“Miguel, I completely understand, but this needs to stop. And it’s going to stop.” Your tone was laced with a wave of sympathetic anger. Of course, you understood why he did what he did, your husband died in your arms, and you were left completely alone..deep down, you knew that you had to bury his multiverse watch with him in order to keep yourself from doing what the Miguel in front of you did. But that didn’t make anything any better. You understood his grief and his loss, but you understood that having him here was chipping away at your heart relentlessly. Miguel prepared to argue against you, but you put your hand up in a silencing motion.

“Miguel, you need to go home.” You began, your hands clasping over your heart, “I can’t keep looking at your face…his face…it’s killing me. Every day I wake up, and I see you lying there next to me, and the only thought in my mind is that you’re not mine…” You fought back the tears that pooled at the corners of your eyes again. Miguel might look like your husband, but he never was, and he never will be. You knew you’d never see your husband again, and the man in front of you only made your heart break with every second he spent at your side. Miguel looked away from you, his eyebrows furrowed as he realized he'd been caught in his frivolous attempt to return to his life before his wife's death. That grief, the guilt, it was so evident on his face, but even if it made your heart hurt, you couldn't let him stay. Slowly, you turned your attention back to the glimmering city surrounding the two of you.

“Y’know…I left the door unlocked for weeks…waiting for him to walk back in and just tell me it was okay.” You whispered softly, “I watched his body be put in the ground, but I still held out hope…and then you showed up, and I wanted to believe the lie I'd told myself.” Your hands held each other gently, trying to support yourself with every breath you took. Miguel looked down at you, standing by your side after a sigh escaped him. "I wanted to believe that he was back, but this, this is too much...and everything hurts worse knowing that someone I don't know is wearing my husband's face and sleeping in our bed."

“I know how you feel..” He whispered gently, “When you- when she- died, I felt like the last good part of me died with her…I’ve never been more angry with the world.” His confession was weighted, and it was clearly the last thing he wanted to admit as he spoke with obvious hesitation.

“But it didn’t. Miguel, you’re still so good and so loving…You’re just hurting right now.” You argued gently. It took everything in you to be gentle. Truthfully, you wanted to scream, to slap him across the face and let him have it for everything he put you through…But something was stopping you, and you knew exactly what it was. That goddamn face of his. If he looked like anyone else, you’d have no problem giving him your full fury, but that was his face, just missing the scar and the smile. You sighed softly as no response came from the taller man, your head hung low as you rested your forehead in your crossed arms. You’d always been strong, but right now, you just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, right now, you just wanted your husband. Miguel knew it too. Miguel watched as you toppled over, your arms crossed on the iron rod railing and your face hidden as you leaned down. You did that a lot, hiding your face when an emotion became too much for you to handle, he always found it cute. But now, he just felt bad…no, he felt horrible.

“How do I fix it?” He asked softly after a few minutes of silence passed between you two. You looked up at him quickly, your eyes wide with surprise as you heard him speak. “Other than going home, I know I have to do that…” He added before you could say the same thing.

“Well…I guess you go live the rest of your life doing what she would want you to do…Do you think she’d want you to be miserable all the time?” You began slowly, your posture straightened as you looked up at Miguel. The mention of his wife from your lips made him look away, it was obvious that whatever happened to her truly haunted him.

“I feel guilty too, y’know.” You added. His attention snapped to you immediately, his eyes wide before he turned away. “I see it written on your face, you feel guilty about her death… don’t you?” Your eyes locked on the side of his face, your gaze unwavering as you watched him.

“I wasn’t there when she needed me most…” He whispered. His breath was shaky, his hands held to the iron rod fencing in front of him tightly. "She was killed because of me."

“Miguel, even if you were there, nothing would have changed.” You stated the obvious. Miguel knew you were right, he just hated to hear you say it. “I was there when my husband died, and I couldn’t do anything to save him…” your voice grew bitter with grief, and quickly, Miguel’s eyes flickered to yours for a second.

“Do you think about that night a lot?” His question came with a sudden crashing weight on your shoulders. His eyes held your gaze, unwavering and laced with the knowledge of your answer. Of course you thought about that night. How could you not? The image of finding your husband bloodied and bruised on the dark concrete of an alleyway a few miles from your home haunted you.

That night haunted you.

You remembered the feeling of falling to your knees at his side, gently holding him in your arms as sadness immediately flooded you..it always seemed that before you knew what was happening, your heart knew what would come. You remembered the look on his face, how hard he tried to console you, but the fear in his eyes spoke louder than his words, your husband wasn’t a scared man, but for the first time on that night, you saw fear trap him and hold him hostage. You remembered how you begged him to let you call an ambulance and how when you reached for your phone, he stole it from your hands, he knew he would die no matter what, and he wasn’t going to let you waste your last moments with him on the phone with paramedics.

‘No…no, you gotta look at me.’ He would say softly, his blood-soaked hand holding the side of your face gently, ‘I love you. Okay? Don’t you ever forget that- you are the love of my life, and it was an honor to have known and married you.’ His eyes shut tightly as a bolt of pain shot through his body, and your heartbeat quickened to an alarming rate. The fear, the anger, the denial- it was too much. Your husband was dying, and you could do nothing to stop it. There was nothing you could do to save him.

‘Mig…save your strength, let me call them, please…let me help you.’ You begged through consistent tears. Miguel looked up at you sadly, his body growing colder by the minute.

‘You’re so strong, so resilient, and so unbelievably stunning…I wish I had more time to tell you just how much I adore you.’ He smiled up at you, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever known a love like yours, and I am so thankful that you let me be your husband.’ And with that, his hand fell from your face, a shaky breath escaping his lips. You watched in horror, begging whatever god might be out there for this moment to be a horrible dream. But as Miguel’s chest rose for the last time, you realized no one was coming to wake you up.

“Of course.” You finally answered. Miguel nodded slightly, looking back to the city surrounding the two of you.

“I’m sorry..” he murmured. You shrugged your shoulders, everything sucked, and everything still hurt, but what could you do about it? Miguel seemed to share your silent sentiment as his hand ran through his curly brown hair. The two of you fell silent for a moment before you spoke up, disturbing the already uneasy night.

“I think it’s time for you to go.” You spoke softly, a gentle bitterness lacing your tone. Miguel’s head fell forward in defeat as he buried his face in his hands.

“I don’t know if I can go back.” He mumbled, your eyebrow raised. You knew he could. If he was anything like your husband, you knew he could go back and return to the life he once led, just a little bit more broken than before.

“Well, you have to.” There was a gentle sternness to your voice, “And if you don’t go back to your universe, you can’t stay here. And you can’t go find me anywhere else…It’s cruel and unfair.” You lectured him softly, earning a nod of agreement from the man. He knew what he did was wrong, and it was apparent to you that it was hurting him just as deeply as it was hurting you, now you just needed him to leave…and never return.

“This feels like losing you all over again.” He complained softly, his hands visibly shaking as he lifted his head from his hands. You turned to face him in your entirety, and gently, you took his hands in yours.

“But you’re not losing her. You’re walking away from a version of her that isn’t yours.” You reminded him, earning a soft sigh from the taller man. You knew that your words were harsh, but someone had to say it, and you knew you were the only person he’d listen to. Miguel remained silent for a while, and you could see the war waging in his eyes. The ruby-red eyes that peered down at you were so conflicted, one side set on ignoring your anger and refusing to leave, whereas the other side was wracked with guilt and knew that he had gone too far. Miguel knew which side was right, and as he took in a deep breath, his hands gently squeezed yours.

“I can never apologize for the pain I caused you…I was so blinded by my grief that I ignored the damage I could be doing, and I am forever sorry for that.” He spoke softly as if he were afraid his words would cause you harm if he spoke too loudly. “I’ll return to my universe…Thank you for being so good to me while I was here. It was nice- having my wife back for a while.” Miguel’s voice dropped to nonexistence as he peered deeply into your eyes. You took in every word he spoke, a sympathetic smile forming on your face. He stepped away from you, pressing a few buttons on the watch on his wrist and keeping his eyes locked on yours as a vibrant explosion of colors appeared behind him. His portal home waited expectantly.

“Goodbye, Miguel.” You spoke softly, “It was nice having you back…But I sincerely hope I never see you again.” A pained chuckle left your lips, and Miguel nodded in understanding. He gave you a soft smile before turning over his shoulder, disappearing into the portal that closed behind him seconds later. Slowly, you turned back to the city surrounding your home and took a deep breath of air. Your husband was gone, but a part of you felt relieved knowing that in the multiverse surrounding you, he was still somewhere out there….for better or for worse.

Taglist:

@sobbing-bunny @callsign-blue @tp-spiderflo @simpingfor-wakasa @nerdcorewhore @musicalhistorical

#miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #astv miguel #astv fanfic #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara angst

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ellewritesandrants · 1 year

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I don’t know why but the idea of a soulmate AU between Billy, Steve and Eddie captivates me, especially with the idea that Billy unknowingly gets Steve and Eddie to find out that they’re soulmates. Either in a modern AU where Billy’s a big fan of Corroded Coffin and Steve just managed to get a free ticket or something or in a canon AU where Billy and Steve are friends who want to smoke a little something so they buy from Eddie or Steve picks up the kids from Hellfire and one of them notices the marks match, I don’t really care how but I just want to explore the hurt and comfort of that.

Can you imagine Billy pining away, forever in love with the idea of his soulmate being the one who’ll save him from his situation given that’s what happened to his mom and he finds out that his crush is his soulmate but doesn’t want to tell him yet until he’s made something out of himself, until he’s deserving of love and all of a sudden, he finds out that his soulmate found his soulmate and it wasn’t Billy?

Imagine Steve happily dragging Eddie with him who already looks besotted with Steve and they show Billy the mark that he’s memorized from seeing it in the mirror thousands of times and as soon as he sees the smiles on their faces and the look of wonder in their eyes, he knows for a fact he can’t ruin their happiness. He isn’t selfish enough to do it even others would say he was and all he could do was pretend to be happy and smile at the happy couple.

Imagine Billy pulling away, either out of fear he’d inadvertently ruin their relationship or because he couldn’t stand being surrounded by what he couldn’t have and the kids weirdly enough noticing and trying to figure out what’s wrong. It doesn’t help that Neil’s always been bitter about soulmates and he loved rubbing it in Billy’s face how worthless everything regarding soulmates and soulmarks was. Billy used to be able to ignore it in the hopes of finding his soulmate but now, he knew the truth.

The kids come to a different conclusion, not realizing it was something regarding soulmates but instead, about Neil’s treatment of Billy. If canon, it would be El spying on Billy and seeing him being beaten into a pulp by his dad but in a modern AU, it would the aftermath wherein Max would ask Steve to come visit Billy and he drags Eddie along with him.

Either way, Steve and Eddie find out about the abuse that Billy’s been suffering through and the guilt that Steve felt was immeasurable for not seeing what his best friend was going through, too busy with being in love with his soulmate. With Hopper’s help, they get Neil behind bars but Billy’s a wreck and he needs people to take care of him.

Steve refused to leave Billy alone in the trailer while Max went to school and Susan went to work so he offered to have Billy move in with him and Eddie so they could take care of him. Since Steve only worked part-time and Eddie was in the same year as Billy and could drive them to and from school, it made a lot more sense than leaving him to his own devices.

Billy thinks he’s in a new level of hell as time goes by because getting to know Eddie and seeing everything he can’t have was absolutely painful and heartbreaking on another level. Being surrounded by their care and affection when he’s barely known it his entire life hurts on another level he can’t exactly describe but it’s a pain that hurts so good that he can’t exactly say no to it. His only saving grace is that his mark was casted over due to Neil’s last temper tantrum and there was no way that the boys would get to see it.

Months pass of Billy falling more and more in love with his soulmates who are already in love with each other and it hurts so good. Steve and Eddie never make him feel like an outsider the entire time he’s there but sometimes, his touch starvation reminds him of just how much he’d love to be squeezed in between them in any way possible.

Graduation comes and goes and Billy refused to let his father take his achievements away so he graduated valedictorian, dragging Eddie kicking and screaming past the finish line to graduate. Billy gets to make his speech, loudly supported by everyone and he makes sure to thank his newfound family for all of the support they’ve given him.

Of course, graduation wouldn’t be complete without a graduation party so they all get drunk and party in Steve’s house to celebrate six graduations especially Billy and Nancy who graduated valedictorian and salutatorian respectively. Both Jonathan and Nancy planned to go to the same college in Chicago while Robin and her girlfriend, Heather were heading to California soon. Billy had also gotten into the same college but he wasn’t sure about going because he’d be leaving so much behind, including his soulmates.

By now, Billy was in love with both of his soulmates and unbeknownst to him, they were both plently enamored with him and they’d been trying to build up the courage to ask him out. The party had been slightly delayed because Billy was getting his casts off about a week after graduation and they wanted to do shots, something that really wasn’t advisable with a cast.

Billy had planned to initially conceal his mark using makeup but a large part of him knew that it didn’t matter since Steve and Eddie were happy anyway so he didn’t bother. After all, both Steve and Eddie loved to show off their marks at every opportunity and no one gave a shit about Billy. Somehow, Billy had managed to keep his mark a secret from everyone but he knew Heather had some suspicions.

After some time, the drinking games start and somehow, Billy’s mark is revealed either in a dared striptease or by accident during a dare and it quickly sobers him up. He doesn’t notice at first but then Robin drunkenly pointed out that they had matching marks and the sober gaze of Eddie was too sharp for Billy to meet, instead choosing to run away, stumble to his car and hit the gas to the quarry.

It’s only there that he allows himself to breakdown and to mourn the end of what was a good friendship he had going on with his soulmates because he was sure they would want nothing to do with him now. He’s only just begun to run out of tears when he hears the telltale sound of Eddie’s van, meant to drive Nancy, Jonathan, Heather and Robin home later but was most likely currenly holding the last people Billy wanted to see.

For a moment, he considers running again but his Mama didn’t raise no coward, so he wipes his tears and stands his ground. Steve was a lot drunker than Billy was when Billy had left but it seemed he’d sobered up during the ride because he was clear-eyed when he was grabbing Billy and making sure that the blond wouldn’t run away.

Steve and Eddie trapped Billy in between them, in what seemed like a mockery of his fantasies only to have them play out right in front of him. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that his soulmates would tell him that they wanted him, that they loved him and wanted to take care of him and love him. Sure, it was after an argument about why Billy felt the need to hide but he had expected rejection or at the very least a mutual ignorance of his mark. He’d never considered it a possibility but the two were convinced to try and convince him to give them a chance.

After more than a few tears and attempts to get them to realize they were better off without Billy and his baggage, Steve and Eddie stubbornly managed to convince Billy to try with them. A few kisses convinced Billy to leave his car behind so that they could get it in the morning but for now, Steve and Eddie wanted him in Eddie’s van so they were sure he wouldn’t run.

The entire ride, Billy’s mind was trying to convince him that Steve and Eddie were better off without him, that he didn’t deserve this and that he was a fraud ruining a perfectly happy couple but Steve instinctively knew something was up and he’d had Billy laid across his lap with his hair being stroked to keep the bad thoughts away while Steve affirmed Billy of all of their feelings towards him.

Halfway through the ride home, Billy was asleep and Steve had no problem carrying the younger boy into their bed so that they could finally hold him the way they wanted to. Billy had long since told them of how lonely he felt in his room but as much as they had wanted to invite Billy to literally sleep with them, they hadn’t wanted to cross any boundaries.

Tonight though, all Steve and Eddie wanted to do was to fall asleep holding their newly found soulmate. Billy awoke to Steve’s warmth cocooning him and Eddie coming in to wake him with breakfast in bed. After a hearty meal, Steve and Eddie asked if they could court Billy to show him how serious they were about their feelings for him and Billy found that much like before, he couldn’t say no to his soulmates.

Months passed with Steve and Eddie constantly trying to prove their love of Billy who eventually concedes and moves in with them in the master bedroom. It isn’t long until having Billy in between Steve and Eddie is a norm and no longer a fantasy for Billy and he realizes just how much he didn’t let himself have when he hated himself. With Steve and Eddie’s love, they helped Billy realize he was always worthy of love, care and devotion and that they were ready to spend the rest of their lives together reminding him of that fact.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove au #billy deserved better #billy hargrove deserved better #ellewritesandrants #billy hargrove angst #metalsandwich #metal sandwich #harringroveson #steddilly #stilldie #harringrove #mungrove #some steddie but endgame is harringroveson #billy x eddie #billy x steve #steve harrington #eddie munson

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percyaugod · 5 months

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Two heads aren't better than one AU

You know how there are AUs where a Rise turtle swaps bodies with one of their counterparts?

What I wouldn't give for an AU where Rise Donnie is sharing a body with one. Especially if it's the other turtle's body. Him trying to fight off Rise Donnie as he tries to cut their mask tails short and draw on eyebrows. Not to mention the flood of intrusive thoughts. Why is his first thought always violence!?

Bonus points if it's the counterpart's fault they're in this situation and they're not exactly sure what they did. Is there another person in their body? Did they accidentally create an alter ego? Are they possessed!? They're starting to think performing experiments after three days without sleep might be a bad idea.

I personally like 03 Don. Their universe has the closest thing to mystics and if I remember right he stole two helicopters in the series. He's just enough chaotic to possibly go along with some of Rise Donnie's ideas while still trying to be the voice of reason.

"I need to fix this! …What's that about a tech bō?"

Could also see him trying everything in his power to pretend everything is normal with the others while Rise Donnie is trying his best to talk 03 Don into world domination plans. Seeing how a lot of the real bad stuff that happens to 03 Don isn't addressed in the series later, I'm going to assume he just keeps a lot of it to himself. This will be one of those things.

Both Donnies are sleep-deprived from staying up all night trying to figure out what's going on. 03 Leo tries to take the coffee away from them to make 03 Don sleep. Rise Donnie, used to his Leo doing that just casually hisses and bites Leo's arm. It's not hard enough to break the skin but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

03 Leo just blinks and stares back at 03 Don in shock until he can gain back control and let's go. Rise Donnie feels personally offended by how dull 03 Don's teeth are. Not even a mark! Yes, 03 Don would rather not injure his brother. This just confuses Rise Donnie because why not, it's Leo.

Rise Donnie may not understand their relationship here, but stealing coffee should be instant maiming regardless.

Oh! Another reason 03 Don works best with this? Good genes. The others see him acting more feral and aggressive and fearing some kind of relapse. Everyone is panicking about different things while trying to hide it from the others.

I love that head canon that Rise Donnie hates things like needles and checkups. I want them to call Leatherhead to help run tests and have to pry Don off the ceiling.

Imagine if they start blurring together if they share a body too long. It getting harder and harder to tell who thinks what.

03 Mikey would definitely be Rise Donnie's favorite because he is also unhinged. 03 Mikey is not sure if he should tell the others when 03 Don asks if he wants to do something that 03 Don normally would never do but sounds like so much fun, or just do the fun thing. … He'll tell them after, just in case Don was joking. He wasn't joking, the best day of 03 Mikey's life!

#rottmnt #tmnt 2003 #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt au #TMNT 2003 au #tmnt crossover #rise donnie #03 donnie #Two heads aren't better than one AU

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delicateflowerss · 1 year

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Heartless: Part Three

Series Masterlist

After crashing a party, you know better than anyone that Rafe Cameron has no heart.

Warnings: 18+, NON-CON, violence, verbal abuse/degradation, dark!Rafe, choking, underage drinking, mention of drugs, pogue!reader, non-canon ages

3.1k words, thank you everyone for reading! I hope you enjoy the final part.

You wouldn’t call winter your favorite season.

You grew up with the iconic summers of the OBX, where every color seemed brighter, and you could spend 90 percent of your time in the water.

But in the winter, it feels like everything has been sucked of its color, muted in comparison. It’s too cold to go in the water, but nowhere near cold enough for it to snow, the only time winter can be beautiful.

People also just seem unhappier. There’s less tourists, which can be a blessing, but it means less business.

Usually, it doesn’t feel this intolerable. So, maybe this year it’s just you.

You’ve been spending most of your time at home, either helping your mom around the house or lying in bed. You only leave if you need to run an errand.

But when you ran to the store this morning, the guy working at the register reminded you of the bonfire happening tonight.

It was awkward small talk with someone you used to go to school with, but it made you falter when he asked if you were going.

He might’ve been flirting with you, but it didn’t matter. All you could think about was how your friends will probably be there.

You haven’t heard a word from them since that day.

You did run into Pope when you were on an errand. The bags of food in his hands told you he was doing the same. But after you locked eyes with him, he went back to what he was doing, pretending he didn’t see you at all.

It felt like someone punched you in the gut. But what can you do? You fucked up.

That’s why you went home and did something you never thought you would do. You scrubbed any trace of Rafe Cameron from your life. You deleted text messages, blocked him on anywhere he could contact you.

You never want to see him again.

Your mom doesn’t hide her surprise when you tell her you’re going out tonight. She knows something must have happened between you and your friends, but she doesn’t even know where to start in asking about it.

So instead, she calls after you, telling you not to stay out too late.

You try not to roll your eyes at the bitter reminder that there’s no reason for you to be out late, or for you to even be going to the bonfire.

But maybe getting out of the house and letting loose a little will be fun for you. And if not, at least you can drown your sorrows in booze.

The beach is filled with people by the time you get there, the smell of smoke already sitting heavy in the air. The orange glow of the fire gives warmth to the people around it.

You park your bike, nervously hugging your sides as you walk through the chatter and the stench of beer and weed.

You keep your head low, not sure if you’ll be bumping into anyone you know or used to for that matter.

Just as you finally make it to one of the kegs, you hear a familiar voice. It feels like everyone else’s has disappeared. Their voices muffled compared to his.

You remember how his voice used to make your stomach flutter. It was a night like this when you hooked up with him for the first time. A bonfire in the spring, at a time when things were blossoming, the world finally in color again.

You had hope for the things to come. You thought if Rafe called you pretty, he must actually like you. You were so naïve.

It took you months to realize that he was just using you. Now you’re left in the cold, where things die and stay dead. You’ll never be who you used to be. You didn’t think someone could be that cruel.

You take a second to look at him, how he stands next to Topper and Kelce. He takes a sip from the red cup in his hand, and his blue eyes meet yours.

You look away, ignoring how his cold gaze makes your cheeks warm.

After getting your cup filled up, you walk away, leaving him with not another glance.

You try to shake off the encounter, heading towards the bonfire for some warmth and a spot to sit down.

But as you slowly step to the fire, your lips part as you make out the faces through the rippling heat coming from the burning glow. They blur and unblur, and you wish you could sit right next to them.

They’re distracted, talking to each other, a joint being passed around.

Everyone except for Sarah. She stares at the fire in front of her, like she’s deep in thought about something, or high out of her mind.

She’s the first one to notice you, her eyes flicking up to look at you. She doesn’t say anything, just staring at you like she’s trying to decide whether you’re actually standing in front of her or if you’re a ghost from her past.

“Sarah?” Her name comes out as a barely a whisper.

You start to feel hopeful, that maybe she’s come around, that she’s not mad at you anymore. But the second you say her name, something in her eyes harden.

The fact she still feels betrayed is evident on her face, like not a day has passed since you told them you’ve been sleeping with Rafe.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

Everyone else’s eyes move to you at the bitterness of her words. Any smiles are wiped clean off their faces, staring you down instead.

You move from one foot to another, looking down at how your feet sink into the sand. You struggle coming up with what to say.

“I just wanted to see how you all are. It’s been a while.”

You see them shift uncomfortably, like they don’t know what to say either.

John B is the first to speak up. “We’re doing fine,” he says it almost nonchalantly, like you haven’t been a thought in their heads since you rode away from The Chateau, crying.

You bite your lip, nodding.

Before you can respond, Kie interjects, “You really shouldn’t be here, Y/N.”

You know how long she can hold a grudge, you just never thought you’d be on the receiving end of one.

“I’m not here to cause any problems.” You keep your eyes on them, hoping they believe you. “I just wanted to apologize again. I really miss you guys…” You say the last part quieter, almost hoping the sound of the sea crashing into the sand could swallow those words up.

“We know you’re sorry. It doesn’t really fix anything though.” Kie crosses her arms.

“I-I can’t fix what I did,” you stumble out.

“Should’ve thought about that before sleeping with the enemy then,” Pope counters.

“I made a mistake-.”

“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t sound like it was one mistake,” Sarah cuts you off. “You lied straight to my face. How can I ever trust you again?”

Her voice wavers and her tone almost tells you she wishes she could trust you again. But she can’t.

You open your mouth to speak but JJ beats you to it.

“You know, I think I saw your boyfriend around here somewhere.” He pretends to look around. “Maybe you should run along and find him.” His eyes bore into you, hoping that his words cut deep.

And they do. You don’t stick around for another second, storming away.

You feel it getting harder to breathe, your chest getting tight. Your vision gets blurry with tears. You throw your cup down onto the ground in a fit of rage, walking away from the crowds of people.

You need to be alone, away from prying eyes.

You walk along the beach, until you can barely hear or see anyone. Just you, the sand, and the sea.

You’re sobbing now, letting the tears fall. You don’t know why what JJ said hurt you so much. Maybe it’s because JJ has never said anything mean to you in your life. Maybe it’s because you thought you could count on them to get what you’re going through. Maybe because it’s not true, and there used to be a time when all you wanted was to be called Rafe’s.

You wish you could tell them how wrong they are, that you know what you did was bad. But they’re not the only ones who’ve been hurt by him.

So wrapped up in your thoughts, you don’t hear the quiet footsteps behind you, and how they catch up to you.

“Fight with your friends?”

You spin around, startled, finding Rafe just a couple feet behind you. His smirk is almost triumphant.

You stare at him, not knowing what to say.

“They were gonna find out one day, right?” He lets out a chuckle. “Cut them a little slack, it’s hard finding out someone you call your friend is a traitor and a whore.”

“What the hell are you doing over here, Rafe?” Your anger pours out of you, not wanting to spend another second with him.

He seems taken aback at your tone, so he retreats a little.

“Just wanted to check up on you.” The insincerity in his voice doesn’t match his words.

You roll your eyes, scoffing, looking towards the ocean next to you. It’s almost like a vast plane of nothingness, the pretty blue disappearing in the dark.

When you turn your head back, he’s closer and his eyes are on your lips.

“I thought you could use some comforting.”

“Too bad you have the opposite effect on me.” You cross your arms, brows drawn together.

A humorless laugh leaves his throat, his pink lips parting.

“Are you mad at me or something?” His tone is accusatory, like he should be the one angry with you.

You take a deep breath. You had hoped that you wouldn’t have to do this in person, that blocking him would be enough for him to get the message.

There have been countless times where you’ve imagined telling Rafe how you truly feel, the good and the bad. But you could never make it happen.

Every time you two would get together, your focus would be on other things. Even if you were upset with him, you would pretend you weren’t, just so you wouldn’t ruin the moments between you.

“I’m just tired of whatever this is. I can’t do it anymore. I already lost my friends…” You choke up a little, your eyes stinging again.

“You blaming me for that? If your friends-.”

“No, Rafe. What happened with my friends is my fault. I’m just telling you that I’m done.” You spit out the last few words and try to walk past him, back to the bonfire.

But he stops you, towering over you.

“W-Wait, you’re done? What does that even mean?”

“It means fucking you was the worst decision I’ve ever made. If I had known how horrible,” you almost scream the word, “you would treat me. I would’ve never done it.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe it took me this long to see how much you don’t care about me.”

The only word you could use to describe the look on Rafe’s face is, confused. Like he has no idea what you’re talking about, which sounds about right for him.

“Where is this coming from? You like the way I treat you.”

Your mouth twists up and he steps even closer to you, hot breath fanning over you.

“I’ve never heard a complaint before,” he says slowly. “Actually, I remember you begging to be my girlfriend.”

Your hand reaches up before you can even think. The sound of your palm meeting his cheek is deafening. You’re not even sure what you just did, but the stinging of your skin, and the way Rafe’s head is turned tells you enough.

It’s not something you normally would do, but it feels like every ounce of pain he’s caused you had to come out one way or another.

He slowly turns to look at you, the red blossoming on his cheek. You don’t realize the gravity of what you did until you find his gaze, icy and unforgiving. Any beauty you used to find in those eyes, gone now, left with a burning anger that you put there.

Cold fingers grip your throat, pushing you back, causing your feet to stumble in the sand.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks through gritted teeth.

You grab onto his arms, trying to pull him off you. You struggle to say his name, his hand making it difficult to breathe.

“What do you think you’re achieving with this? That I give a fuck enough about you to be upset?”

He shoves you until your foot catches on something, his hand loosening as you fall back onto the ground.

Shaky breaths leave your lips and before you can get up, he’s already on top of you, pinning you down, a knee on either side of you.

“Why would I be upset about a dirty fucking Pogue like you?” He practically spits in your face with every word he says.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you sob out. “Just please stop.”

“I don’t know what the hell goes through that little head of yours.” He balls his hand up into a fist. “But you don’t get to tell me when we’re done.”

His fist hits the ground next to your face and you flinch as sand goes flying.

More sobs erupt from you as you start to feel his rough hand inching towards the button on your jeans.

“You always wanted me so badly,” he says through ragged breaths, unbuttoning his own pants. “But I never realized how much more fun it is when you don’t want me.”

You writhe underneath him, pushing at his chest with all your strength. Your voice is getting hoarse from screaming at him.

The abrupt feeling of him pushing himself inside you makes the breath hitch in your throat. He keeps going until he bottoms out, a sigh leaving his mouth. You want to push him away, telling him to get off you, but all you can do is dig your nails into his arm as he rolls his hips into yours.

Looking up through your blurry vision, you see his face contorted with pleasure as he continues to drive himself into you. He moves your hand off him, grabbing both your wrists. His bruising hold pins them above your head.

You turn your head, watching the water creeping closer to your bodies with every time a wave melts into the sand. His groans meld with the sound of the waves hitting the beach.

You’ve always felt calm near the ocean. No matter what, you can count on it to be there, the only constant in your life giving you a sense of security. But it can’t save you now.

“Look at me,” Rafe rasps. His other hand forcefully moves your head so you’re looking up at him again.

You want to squeeze your eyes shut, pretending you’re anywhere else. You hate the way you cling to him, his thrusts becoming smoother as you feel your cunt getting wetter. The feeling of him stretching you out is familiar, and you hate that most of all. That no matter what, Rafe gets what he wants. He can use you until there’s nothing left, that all you are to him is a whore that aches for him at the sound of his name.

You don’t know what you were thinking on that night, months ago. You thought he was handsome with the strands of his hair falling into his eyes and the polo shirt he was wearing that didn’t have a wrinkle.

You don’t know how you didn’t see the poison that fills his veins, or the casual cruelty behind his eyes, because that’s all you see now.

Your teeth sink into your lip as you try to stop your body reacting to his. He notices how you clench around him, a smirk falling onto his lips.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” He thrusts harder into you. “You’ll always want me, even if you don’t know it.”

A whimper falls from your lips as you feel a tingle in your toes. With one more harsh thrust, you’re coming around him. You try to catch your breath, your chest rising up and down, and you feel him pull out of you.

Before you can say anything, he grabs your hair from the back of your head, pulling you into a sitting position.

You can barely register what’s going on as he strokes himself, his cock twitching as he comes all over your face, the warm stickiness mixing with your salty tears.

The grin on his face is sickening as he takes you in, no doubt saving the mental image for later. “A Pogue like you doesn’t deserve my cum.”

He zips himself up, taking a look behind him before he swipes his thumb across your face, gathering the white before sticking it into your mouth. You try to push his finger out with your tongue, but he doesn’t let up, ending with you swallowing his salty cum.

He chuckles at the pout on your face. “Just remember,” his voice is low, “if you tell anyone about this, I can make your life a living hell.”

He stands up, leaving you shivering all alone on the beach.

You’re not sure how long you sat in the sand for. But by the time you found an empty restroom nearby so you could clean up, the sun was already peeking above the horizon.

When you finally got on your bike, you know you don’t want to go home.

Actually, you do. But instead of taking the road to your house, you take the one that leads you to The Chateau.

You’re not exactly sure what to expect, but you don’t care anymore. You feel hollow, an overwhelming pain taking over your senses.

As you walk up to the porch, you try to wipe the tears away, but there’s too much. The screen door swings open before you can get there. Sarah stands there, staring at you inquisitively.

You expect her to argue with you again, telling you to leave. You try to get a word in before she can, but your choked sobs stop you from saying what you need to say.

Her eyes soften and she steps forward, wrapping her arms around you, cradling you in a hug.

You want to tell her everything, promising yourself there won’t be anymore lies. And you will. But for right now, your eyes fall shut, feeling safe and loved for the first time in a while.

Tags:

@fangirlwithlou @thebuttofcaptainamerica @belcalis9503 @sweetestrose569 @gh0stgirl33 @amorisxx @luvmatchamilktea

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader

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faterpresources · 9 months

Text

Sᴘɪᴅᴇʀ-Mᴀɴ : Aᴄʀᴏss ᴛʜᴇ Sᴘɪᴅᴇʀ-Vᴇʀsᴇ (2023) - Pᴀʀᴛ 2

A collection of random lines compiled from the Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) Feel free to change the pronouns in order to better suit the parts involved.

❝ Kid's an anarchist. ❞

❝ Oh, what the heck? ❞

❝ Wanna see pictures? ❞

❝ "Chai" means tea, bro! ❞

❝ You're saying "tea tea!" ❞

❝ Would I ask you for a "coffee coffee"? ❞

❝ Yeah, actually, stop talking. ❞

❝ I don't see anything, boss. ❞

❝ This guy/girl is killing me. ❞

❝ You're welcome. Shut up. ❞

❝ You never made a mistake? ❞

❝ Why don't you have 8 arms? ❞

❝ I don't believe in consistency. ❞

❝ Neither was I! I'm in the zone! ❞

❝ It's a metaphor for capitalism. ❞

❝ You disrupted a canon event. ❞

❝ Do you wanna hold my baby? ❞

❝ Oh, I thought you hated labels. ❞

❝ I told you he/she was a liability! ❞

❝ This is what I love about heists! ❞

❝ Can you not talk for a second? ❞

❝ Did you go see your little friend? ❞

❝ Wanna go easy on the penguin? ❞

❝ You're not supposed to be here! ❞

❝ Baby... you're really not helping. ❞

❝ I was gonna try and ignore you. ❞

❝ Yeah, and how did that work out? ❞

❝ Look, I know I messed up, okay?! ❞

❝ How many sweaters do you have? ❞

❝ Why does the horse need a mask? ❞

❝ I don't always like what I have to do. ❞

❝ Of course I'm right. I'm always right. ❞

❝ I've given up too much to stop now. ❞

❝ No, no, no! I did not mean it like that! ❞

❝ Oh, I'm very good at reading people. ❞

❝ That's a sports metaphor, by the way. ❞

❝ This romantic tension is so palpable! ❞

❝ You can't ask me not to save my ___. ❞

❝ Could this day get any damn weirder?! ❞

❝ How can you guys even concentrate? ❞

❝ Do you know how bad this is for you? ❞

❝ I'm coming up to get you! Here I come! ❞

❝ You weren't expecting that, were you? ❞

❝ I promise I will not let you down again. ❞

❝ I always taught you to do it by the book. ❞

❝ I'll do it, but not because you told me to. ❞

❝ I didn't know they made those for adults. ❞

❝ We are supposed to be the good guys. ❞

❝ Cuz I think it's gonna change our vibe. ❞

❝ Running is the least crazy thing going on! ❞

❝ What are you talking about? I'm helping- ❞

❝ He/She just wants to be taken seriously. ❞

❝ I have never seen him/her so emotional! ❞

❝ You blew another hole in the multiverse! ❞

❝ I know you know I've been lying to you. ❞

❝ I had a nightmare about that once. But no! ❞

❝ Why do you wanna be a part of this stuff? ❞

❝ I don't follow orders. Neither does he/she. ❞

❝ I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot. ❞

❝ We all want to live the life we wish we had. ❞

❝ You gotta promise nothing's gonna change. ❞

❝ Look, he/she's just some villain of the week! ❞

❝ I'm not following what's happening right now. ❞

❝ Man, what does it look like I'm trying to do?! ❞

❝ You got an hour to fix this, or I can't help you. ❞

❝ Wait! You don't know what you're doing, man! ❞

❝ Actually, we need you here, for some reason. ❞

❝ Stop pretending you know what you're doing! ❞

❝ How much trouble could he/she get in tonight? ❞

❝ You realize how messed up that sounds, right? ❞

❝ And this is where the British stole all of our stuff! ❞

❝ Are you talking to him/her, or me? Or... him/her? ❞

❝ Bit of advice: use the palm, not just your fingers. ❞

❝ How many missions have you been on together? ❞

❝ What am I supposed to do? Just let him/her die?! ❞

❝ Taking a crap on the establishment. I salute you. ❞

❝ You're both equally terrible. Does that settle it? ❞

❝ I don't even know what the right thing is, anymore. ❞

❝ I'm not a role model. I was briefly a runway model. ❞

❝ Oooh, you weren't invited, and you came anyway? ❞

❝ I'm trying to hold a serious adult conversation, here. ❞

❝ Do I, uhh... have web on my face? What's the deal? ❞

❝ You and me are finally gonna live up to our potential. ❞

❝ You let him/her leave, he/she'll only do more damage. ❞

❝ I'm about to be so much more than a villain of the week. ❞

❝ You made me feel empty, like I had a hole inside of me! ❞

❝ I'll make you pay for everything you took away from me. ❞

❝ I wouldn't call it a mess. More like a... success in progress. ❞

❝ Everyone keeps telling me how my story is supposed to go. ❞

❝ If I hadn't said it before, by the way, you're a terrible mentor. ❞

❝ Come on, go easy on the kid. He/She had a terrible teacher! ❞

❝ Please, hold your questions until I'm done breaking this thing! ❞

❝ Is this where... like, you dress up like your favorite character? ❞

❝ Where's the... the bad/girl guy you were supposed to monitor? ❞

❝ I just saw where you went, and went there without you knowing. ❞

❝ Ha! I knew I was gonna regret making him/her that web shooter. ❞

❝ It's because I thought if you knew you wouldn't love me the same. ❞

❝ This should work! Or vaporize me and everything in this building. ❞

❝ Do... do you want us to do something, or do we just stand here? ❞

❝ You don't get to have a heartfelt conversation with me right now! ❞

❝ I just need enough to get me somewhere with a full-sized collider. ❞

❝ Since I leveled up my game, I'm on a journey of self-improvement! ❞

❝ I can do all these things, but I can't help the people I love the most. ❞

❝ The hardest thing about this job is you can't always save everybody. ❞

❝ Hey, you! Could you please deactivate this wonderfully strong barrier? ❞

❝ You have a choice between saving one person and saving an entire world. ❞

❝ Don't be afraid of my friend ___,he/she just looks scary. He/She's got no bite. ❞

❝ Look bad things are gonna happen. It makes us who we are.But good things happen too, you know? ❞

❝ I hate labels, I'm not a hero, 'cuz calling yourself a "hero" makes you a self-mythologizing, narcissistic autocrat. ❞

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay ask meme #rp ask #ask meme #sentence starters #writing prompts #dialogue prompt #original #marvel rp #spider man #spider-man #into the spiderverse

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nathanielzalexandria · 10 months

Text

You know what?

A big FUCK YOU to all those people who said My Hero Academia/ Boku no Hero Academia was straight and the canon ships will be straight and "of course Izuku and Uraraka are the end game ship and that we should get our "gay fanfic agenda" out of their hero show. (Sorry to the izuocha ship but they aren't ending the journey with cannon status)

The moment I found out that Magne and Tiger was trans i knew there would be gay romance. If the mangaka is okay with outright stating that Tiger is trans in his character description why in the fuck would he not be okay with putting his mc in a homosexual relationship.

And honestly, if Katsuki was a female he would have just been called a tsundere and all those "this is a bad pairing" peeps would mostly ship it. But that's neither here nor there because we aren't talking about the obvious main character ship. (You can hate it but don't pretend this is a crackpot ship fanfiction peeps/girls and gays pulled out of thir arse.

Secondly, Uraraka. While she may have started off "wanting" Izuku but after she meets Toga she starts to question his feelings for him. And nearly every conversation they have is about love and what it means to them. The pasta has been put to boil for so long, why is everyone surprised its bubbling? That the pasta is ready?

Okay, let's say you missed out on the subtext leading up to this story arc. On the official artwork that has them together. It happens but if you are following the manga from chapter 388 the cover has them interlocked with each other and close enough to kiss. The fucking tag is "THE CONCLUSION TO THEIR TALK ON LOVE...". And from around the end of 390 (and before but especially at this point), every chapter is about them, and Toga feeling alone and isolated and Ochaco trying to reach out and talk about love. And even if you did not catch that, this recent chapter has a reporter saying "A girl and her feelings can change the world" blatantly hinting at this outcome.

I'm just saying, that if by "You've got such a lovely smile!" You did not see what was coming there is no helping you. Your bias blinded you because there was nothing to be so shocked about. You should not have been so utterly blindsided by "I want to talk about romance, Himiko-chan!"

And if your argument is, "What about Izuku?" The boy has rejected one and is oblivious to the other. Also, this chapter has Ochaco talking about Toga's smile. Yeah, she calls it lovely but you know what else it's called, genuine and she tells Toga she should never hide her feelings while showing a flashback of Izuku smiling. You know, the guy who bottles up his feelings and pain until it hurts him a la the Vigilante arc? The line is clearly comparing Toga to Izuku and asking her not to be like him.

So take the fucking win Togarakas/togachacos your ship has been validated. It has been canonized for those with willing eyes to see. And if you honestly believe that Izuku and Ochaco are actually getting together in the end, and that "...then I'll give you my blood for the rest of my life!" Isn't akin to, "I love you. Most Ardently.", "I like you... very much. Just as you are." , "In another life, I would have really liked... Just doing laundry... and taxes with you.,", "I came here tonight because when you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible" and that these words were about Izuku and friendship then this is the biggest cope I've ever seen. You are being obtuse

#mha spoilers #bnha spoilers #i saw one text post and got heated sorry #ochako uraraka #himiko toga #togachako #togaraka #togachaco

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acourtofthought · 1 year

Text

It's All Canon Baby

Sure this happened:

Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

But so did this:

But Elain had given it back—had pressed it into Azriel’s hands after the battle, just as he had pressed it into hers before. And then walked away without looking back.

And this:

Azriel leaned against the wall by the lone door, Truth-Teller bloody in his hand.

But Feyre, Cassian knew, had been aware of what she’d see before entering. And well aware that these ten minutes had only been the opening movements in a symphony of pain that Azriel could conduct with brutal efficiency.

And this:

And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her.

Sure this happened:

Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

But so did this:

Cassian bared his teeth. “What the hell can we do against that?” “I’m going in,” Azriel said. “No,” Rhys snapped. But Azriel was spreading his wings, the sunlight so stark on the new, slashing scars down the membrane. “Chain me to a tree, Rhys,” Azriel said softly. “Go ahead.” He began checking the buckles on his weapons. “I’ll rip it out of the ground and fly with it on my damned back.”

And this:

“I want to confirm that Briallyn has the Crown,” Azriel said. “I’ll travel to the human lands tomorrow.” “No,” Feyre and Rhys said at the same time, in the same breath. Azriel’s eyes shuttered. “I wasn’t asking for permission.” Rhys smirked. “Doesn’t matter.” Az opened his mouth to object, but Feyre said, “You’re not going, Azriel. If Briallyn has the Crown and catches you, even if she just suspects you’re nearby, who knows what she could do to you?” “Give me some credit, Feyre,” Az said. “I can keep hidden well enough.” “We take no risks,” Feyre said, voice flat with command. “Pull all your spies out.” “Like hell I will.”

Sure this happened:

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?”

But so did this:

“No.” I blinked. “But he is a good male.” Despite our harsh words. Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit. “He cares for you.” “He doesn’t know me.” “You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.”

And this:

“Stay out of it. She’s not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings.” I lifted a brow. “Snoop.” Mor leaned back against the steps, utterly unrepentant. “Let him live with his Band of Exiles. Let him deal with Tamlin in his own way. Let him figure out where he wants to be. Who he wants to be. The same goes with her.”

Sure this happened:

she breathed, “Beautiful.”

But so did this:

I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath

Sure this happened:

Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks

But so did this:

“Thank you,” Nesta said, quickly pulling away to marvel at the device. “It’s brilliant.” Azriel blushed and stepped back, shadows swirling.

And this:

Mor and Cassian howled, earning a blush from Azriel

Sure this happened:

And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.”

But so did this:

I think she and Amren would be fast friends.

Which led to this:

Only Amren ignored her, and Nesta ignored Amren. The tension between them was a living band of lightning. But no one said anything, and they seemed content to pretend the other didn’t exist.

And though they eventually made up to some degree, Nesta's truest friendships ended up being with Emerie and Gwyn.

Sure this happened:

Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed.

But so did this:

He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.

Sure this happened:

“Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.

But so did this:

"I didn't dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all".

Sure this happened:

“We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

But so did this:

“It would seem so,” Rhys mused, then said to Lucien, “The flame in her eyes was not of your usual sort, I take it.” Lucien shook his head. “No. It spoke to nothing in my own arsenal. That was … Ice so cold it burned. Ice and yet … fluid like flame. Or flame made of ice.”. I held Rhys’s gaze, as if it were again the tether that had kept me in this world. “I think the power is death—death made flesh. Or whatever power the Cauldron holds over such things. That’s why the Carver heard it—heard about her.”

Sure this happened:

He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why.

But so did this:

“I’ve spent weeks in that blasted court,” Mor said.

And this:

The High Lord of Day considered Cassian and Azriel, then frowned. “Where’s my beautiful Mor?” Az said tightly, “Away.”

And this:

Nesta said to Feyre, “Did you tell Elain?” Before Feyre could reply, Azriel said, “What about Mor?”

And this:

"What of Mor, Az?" Azriel ignored the question.

Sure this happened:

She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.

But so did this:

I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted, “You could come to Velaris.”

Sure this happened:

Lucien, surprisingly, was chuckling, his shoulders loose and his head angled while he listened.

But so did this:

Vassa rolled her eyes, then looked to Lucien, who sank onto the sofa beside Jurian. Like the Fae male had settled similar arguments between them before. But Lucien’s attention was upon Cassian.

And this:

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. (Lucien looking at Elain).

Sure this happened:

He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here.

But so did this:

Their gazes locked and held. But Elain said nothing. Did not so much as take one step downward. Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness. And when Lucien turned to signal to Rhys to go … He did not glance back at Elain. Did not see the half step she took toward the stairs—as if she’d speak to him. Stop him.

Sure this happened:

"She hadn't bought her Mate a present.". "She'd gotten Azriel one last year"

But so did this:

Elain gave him a specially designed ceramic mug with a lid that he could travel with, bespelled against breaking, to keep tea warm for hours. (Cassian's gift)

And most likely this from the last Solstice:

"The others passed around their gifts"

(possible proof that Elain got Cassian something the year before too, just like Az. If anything, it cannot be proven that Elain only got Az a gift the year before).

Sure this happened:

"a headache powder he'd kept on his nightstand at the HOW. Not to use, just to look at."

But so did this:

I’m fairly certain Azriel has a drawer full of all the daggers I’ve bought him throughout the centuries that he’s too polite to throw away, but won’t ever use.”

Sure this happened:

"he wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend"

But so did this:

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it. But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

Sure this happened:

No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

But so did this:

"They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around".

Sure this happened:

“And you?” I made myself say. “Are you—all right?”. Elain looked over a shoulder at me as we entered the foyer, then turned left—to the dining room. In the sitting room across the way, all conversation halted at the smell of food. “Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, a smile lighting up her face.

But so did this:

I’d seen those smiles before. On my own damn face.

Sure this happened:

"What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

But so did this'

Azriel said nothing. He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to.

Canon isn't the argument some think it is, it doesn't prove Endgame anything.

Whatever a reader thinks is going on based on canon alone is purposely ignoring that SJM doesn't always come right out and tell us the direction she's heading, she leaves subtle hints. She has literally told us in interviews about all the "breadcrumbs" she sprinkles so what good is it doing to act like these big, bold, obvious moments have to be the only possible outcome while conveniently pretending like those other breadcrumbs don't matter?

"Elain and Az nearly kissed! They want each other!"

"Elain belongs in the NC, she said so herself!"

"Elain has friends and hobbies so she's got no more healing to do!"

"Az is over Mor! Cassian said so!"

"Az doesn't even consider Gwyn a friend a few months after officially meeting her, they could never end up together!"

"Elain won't look at Lucien so it must remain that way for all of eternity!"

The truth is, SJM has put enough in there to support Elucien, E/riel, or Gwynriel. I think based on her style, she's setting E/riel up to have only been an emotional / near physical rebound for all the wrong reasons (which came to an end in the POV Chapter), but I cannot deny she hinted at something between them in the other books. I'm also not going to deny that all those hints were followed by hints for other ships or proof that neither Az or Elain were over Mor and Graysen. But I'm still not here pretending there weren't things that led us to what happened on Solstice. I just think regardless, E/riel was always set up as being doomed to fail.

I'm not sure why E/riels refuse to admit that E/riel might not have the endgame setup they think they've had, and that there are canon moments that could hint at an Elucien / Gwynriel future too. That the characters and their feelings for one another can still change in the next books.

Do they think stubbornly refusing to admit any other outcome is a possibility will somehow guarantee their ship? I'm sure Team Jacobs and Team Gale's did the same thing yet they still ended up having to accept defeat.

At this point it all comes down to hoping those hints lead us to the outcome we want. Because canon currently supports the possibility of every single pairing and if SJM wants, canon up until now doesn't even have to matter because she has created a brand new ship in a single book despite the Canon that came before.

Make your posts, defend your ship, but seriously, stop sending threats, stop acting like other people are stupid or lack reading comprehension for believing in theirs. You just make yourself look like the idiot considering they can provide just as many canon moments and the fact that you don't realize or ignore that those canon moments exist means you are the one lacking in reading comprehension and are guilty of selective reading.

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #lucien and elain #elain and lucien #gwynriel #azriel acotar #gwyneth berdara #acotar ships

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soulmatebracket · 11 months

Text

Soulmate Bracket: Round 1 [Side A — Part V]

Provided reasoning under cut:

Wei Wuxian & Lan Wangji

They are canonically called soulmates!! In the live action this is platonic due to censorship and in the book it is romantic but the term actually used is zhiji (知己) of which soulmate is the closest english translation but is more literally like. the mirror to your soul. your own self in another person. i am not good with translations only wei wuxian dies but lan wangji mourns him for thirteen years (despite wwx being hated and despised by the world) because he can never love another. when wwx is brought back he recognises him instantly despite being in someone else’s body. they literally would find each other in any time or place

Oh boy. Ok. They're not explicitly called "soulmates" in the show/book but Netflix does use that categorization in its description of "The Untamed". Nor are either of them technically reincarnated BUT Wei Wuxian does get resurrected in another man's body through some shady necromancy, which is pretty darn close. They've got a fascinating relationship journey (basically enemies/rivals to lovers) Mr. Follow-All-Rules-To-The-Letter Lan Wangji meets Mr. Break-All-The-Rules-In-The-Name-Of-Fun-And-Showing-Off Wei Wuxian at teenage exorcist summer camp, they go through some sh*t, Wei Wuxian dies, Lan Wangji spends over a decade trying to find any sign of his lost soulmate while raising his adopted kid, then the shady necromancy happens and Lan Wangji IMMEDIATELY clocks that this guy simultaneously solving exorcist issues using slightly questionable means and causing shenanigans is Wei Wuxian. He might be in a different body pretending to be another crazy man, but HE KNOWS it's his guy because he acts the same and he knows the secret love song Wangji wrote for Wuxian that he shared one time in a cave during one of their near-death bonding experiences. Then history starts kind of repeating itself, only this time they stick together and make sure EVERYONE knows that they've got each others' backs, and they are absolutely legendary. Also Wei Wuxian is INCREDIBLY dense and it takes him just about until the end of the story to realize they're both gay and in love. They're complex and fascinating and tied to each other by the red string of fate so tightly that they are incomplete without each other. That's destiny, baby. They're soulmates, always and forever. (Possibly literally as the proper practice of exorcism (called "cultivation" in this world) can lead to immortality, and you know Mr. Follow-All-Rules-To-The-Letter Lan Wangji has the potential, and he will drag his guy along with him so they are never separated again.)

Okay so I feel like it could be argued if they count but the Netflix description of the show calls them soulmates and WWX *did* get reincarnated and then almost immediately run into LWJ who had been mourning him for 16 years. LWJ composed a little musical theme for them that ties them together and WWX playing it on a super out of tune flute is what let LWJ fully recognize him. Their magic which comes from their souls is very compatible and neither of them have ever been normal about each other in their life even though WWX spent a long time being extremely dumb and repressed about his very gay feelings (they are romantic soulmates, just takes them a bit to get there). Big "you and me against the world" vibes once WWX becomes the number 1 wanted guy in the entire universe due to dabbling in dark magic even though WWX was like "lan zhan if someone has to kill me i want it to be you" (LWJ did *not* want it to be him and did his very best to keep WWX alive even though it meant betraying his clan and the world as a whole). They got fake married as teens back when LWJ didn't even like WWX. There are multiple moments where they parallel other soulmates/soulmate-coded characters (song lan and xiao xingchen, baoshen sanren and lan an). They're the only two characters who get to be happy at the immediate end of the story and that's because both of them being alive and together and getting to wander around fighting monsters and playing music and being grossly in love is all that they both need.

Utena Tenjou & Anthy Himemiya

[SPOILERS] at the end of the series, it is revealed that they weren’t living in the real world this entire time. Utena was sent somewhere else. Anthy goes to find her in the movie, and Utena has lost all of her memories of Anthy in that world. At the end of the movie, they end up escaping to the real world

Utena falls in love with Anthy on first sight and makes sure she becomes her prince without even remembering who she is. They're stuck in a timeloop and eventually find themselves together near the end escaping from the horrors theyre trapped in. (Spoilers kinda) Anthy is hinted to have came back to life after being burned st the stake for being seen as a witch so the reincarnation exists,,,(they're in love your honor vote for my silly sapphics)

Every version of RGU is the narrative repeating itself. Devouring itself again. The serpent eating its own tail. Utena fights for Anthy again and again. Anthy betrays Utena, or lies to Utena, or cannot save the both of them quick enough. Anthy escapes, or they both escape, or they both get trapped again, and the story repeats, and Utena is winning the hand of the rose bride, and Utena cannot escape the narrative. Each time the story is told again Utena cannot quite remember how she got here, but it gets more familiar each time. RGU is a time loop that the characters can hardly escape. In every version, Anthy and Utena find each other. Betray each other. Find each other, again.

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #revolutionary girl utena #soulmatebracket #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #utena tenjou #anthy himemiya #utenanthy #id in alt text

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autistic-sidestep · 9 months

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lying down thinking very hard abt imagining sidestep trying ortega's cooking for the first time, canonically them liking anything ortega makes, that ortega learnt from tia elena that feeding people is the best way to befriend people and that SO many of their fond memories are food-related. (bumped into overdrive with a sugar vice step!) the necessity of needing to eat a lot to maintain their telepathy helps, ofc!

#Sugar—my brain needs the energy. One drawback of your telepathic powers is that you need a lot of carbohydrates, and sugar is the easiest way to get them. […] the syrupy drinks you were used to back when [you were at the Farm]…

even chen's memory of a happy sidestep involves food

[non(knowssteelsuspects) tacticianstep] [i]So excited about a milkshake. Laughing with Anathema. The almost childish glee with which ${che} delighted in normalcy. In junk food and music. In movies.[/i]

which is why he stocks the fridge for an ally/friendly step

*label steelfridge (steelshelf true) "Raiding the fridge again?" Steel's voice is too soft for being inside the HQ. […] "Yeah, I'm a regular criminal," you joke, not looking back. Your eyes catch that damn shelf again, with your name clearly on it. There are some beers at the back, as well as assorted snacks. All things you've stolen in the past.

this can even be triggered by marcia from the business base

*label businessstart Sometimes, you pretend that this is what ordinary life must be like. Having a job. A daily routine. Surrounded by normal people, thinking unimportant thoughts. It's a nice enough fantasy, easy to indulge in when you sit sharing a meal with Marcia. She's brought a chili today, not as spicy as you're used to, but for a moment, you're having a flashback to another table, to another shared meal. Familiar laughter. A sense of belonging. You shut your eyes hard, and when you open them, it's Marcia's face you see and not Tía Ortega's. "Was it too hot?" Marcia looks concerned, and you realize your eyes have been tearing up. "I'm fine," you lie, hiding your face as you bite down on a piece of bread. "Thanks for sharing." "A meal is meant to be shared," she says, triggering more memories you don't want.

leading onto comforting spaces and memories with elena and ortega, it's definitely true ortega's strongly associated with food - all their meetups tend to revolve around meals

As do snacks. Is that part of what ${he} learned from ${his} mother? Feed people to make them comfortable, and you suppose the alcohol is mostly for ${him}self. (vice = "sugar") $!{he} always lets you steal ${his} snacks.

"Ooh, they have pancakes." "Pancakes." You shake your head. (*if vice = "sugar") Old memories. You used to eat those together.

What else did you have that wouldn't bring back traumatic memories? Clubs without Anathema, karaoke without Sunstream coming to life on the stage? Dinners with Tía Elena?

(retri epilogue, ortega pov)

Food. When in doubt, always go for food. $!{he} learned that trick at a young age, and it has never steered ${him} wrong.

memorial park meetup

[non alcoholic vice step] "You don't have to talk," ${he} assures you. "But what do you say we get a cup of coffee and a bite to eat?" "Coffee…" You almost laugh, because that's how people work, isn't it? When something uncomfortable happens, make sure to eat or drink something. It will make things better.

hoots

Of course ${he}'d pick a spot like this, [if see_shrink] where ${he} knows you would feel safe, especially after what you just went through. [else] the site of many of your escapades. Familiar. Safe.

"You know what Mamá would have said…." $!{he} wags ${his} finger in the air with a serious look on ${his} face. "If it tastes bad, it's good for you." Your voice is a fair approximation of Tía Elena's; you've heard that sentence often enough. For some reason, she had always been very concerned for your health. Intent on not letting you go hungry.

and ofc, the apartment scene

"I'd like that," you admit. It sounds good; a little privacy is what you need right now. "Been a while since I ate something homemade." "I think I still remember your favorites," ${he} says with a chuckle. "Wow. It's been ages since we did this." "Yeah," you look away to hide your smile. "I miss it." "So do I." For a moment, you think ${he}'s going to say something else, but ${he} doesn't. "I like your food," you finally admit, a little lower than needed, because you're not sure how ${he} will react.

*if ((wound = "a severely bitten lower lip") or (wound = "a severely bitten lower lip, and a sore shoulder")) "Are you sure you're going to be okay eating with that lip?" $!{he} touches ${his} own in sympathy. "I'm not going to starve," you say with a careful smile. "Just don't make it too spicy." "But I like spice…," ${he} complains. "Sucks to be you then." [*if ortega_friendship >= 75] Your smile softens somewhat. "You can always add it last, just to your portion."

"Any requests?" $!{his} voice is light and airy, clearly attempting to strike a lighter mood. "I like everything you make," you say, with a nonchalant shrug. [...]

It feels surprisingly normal sitting in Ortega's kitchen, one leg pulled up on your chair, watching ${him} cook. You helped cut the vegetables, but once the preparations were done, the stove was all [hers/his]. A familiar routine. It used to be what you did back in the day, maybe not every week, but when you had the time. The smell brings back fond memories [...]

"It's been a long time since we did this." Ortega again, breaking the silence that had been building, putting food on your plates. "Yeah," you admit, wishing it didn't smell so good, wishing the smell didn't take you back. […] "Do you like it?" "You're a good cook but such a sucker for compliments," you say, shoving in another mouthful. "I like it." […] You don't know what to feel as you watch ${him} eat, sharing ${his} table, sharing ${his} food. Sharing ${his} home. $!{his} friendship. $!{his} heart.

epilogue (recovering in chen's apartment + dating ortega)

"Your kitchen really sucks." Not exactly the smartest thing to say, but ${he}'s never been that good with words when ${he}'s stressed. "You know that, right?" "I know," Wei sighs, with the long-suffering look he has perfected over the years. "And you know it too. You say it every time you cook here." "$!{he} cooks here?" [...] "Occasionally." Wei sits down at last, giving Spoon a scratch before the dog pads back to ${name}'s side. "When ${he} feels I've been eating too badly." "I know your stomach doesn't always agree with food, but occasionally you just need some homemade caldillo." ${ortega_name} turns back to the stove, glad for the opportunity to busy ${his} hands. The closest thing ${he} can get to meditation, that, and the bike. [...] And everything starts with a delicious dinner. Even if ${he} has to be careful with the chili. $!{he}'s made worse sacrifices.

of course ortega learned it all from tia.

"Not Ortega?" Steel sounds surprised, which is annoying. Are you that predictable? "You know Tía Ortega. Dishes get done in that household." You can't help but smile at the memory. Another life. Another world. Did you use to be happy once?

[...]

Once upon a time, [if ortega_former ally] you were a frequent guest at [Elena's] house // [else] you were close. Back when she lived in the city. Invited into her home, at her dinner table. Hugs. Friendly laughter.

[...]

But it would also mean meeting her again. Stepping back into the past, being soft, loved, cared for, and you…you're not the same. Ortega hasn't told her about you for a reason.

i just.... augHHH. food as love.

#fh codediving #fh meta #i think that works #ramblings #also decided that copying the code as is rather than screenshots #was more accessible

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chronosh0t · 23 days

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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: canon-divergence ; Lee's pov ; sfw ; slightly angst. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 〔 NO BETA 〕

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: what if Lee got stuck in a loop? it's based on this tweet I posted weeks ago.

〔 if you like what I write or my edits, consider tip me on ko-fi. you'd help me a lot by donating me. thank you lots 〕

────────────── ❁ ──────────────

It has been so long, too long to count. Nonstop fighting for an end that is far from near, for a thin lay of hope that may or may not come out of the cruelty of reality. The light it's too dim, the air is too heavy, toxic and corrupted, no matter how deep every breath is, it never makes him feel better, less relaxed. Less lonely.

His hands are tired, his legs are having a hard time trying to keep up and his M.I.N.D is completely numb over time. Losing sense, and every single moment that peace seems to greet him, it flies past him as fast as one of his bullets. Breaking him in the silence of rejection, in the middle of the tower where escaping is not an option. For how long will this keep going? He does not know. And, to be fair, he doesn't want to know either. The crushing weight of having a clock ticking, counting what's left and what's yet to come, is not pleasant.

So he opted to ignore it. He made the decision, that day, to do the job only he was able to do. Because that was his sole purpose, at least for now, as much as he wished to change this twisted fate, it wouldn't be fair for those outside. If he was the only one capable, then so be it. Sacrifices must always be done. Be it time, or his own life. Just for the illusion that outside everyone is safe. He will stand over and over, shoot his gun, kill whoever or whatever gets in his way, for a slim chance.

There are short moments when everything is quiet, when not a single cry from despair could be heard, except for his erratic breathing, his feet dragging him to the stairs to finally take a seat after hours of battles and the loud noise of his weapon against the floor. He closes his eyes for a few seconds before taking a small device to call them. He just wants to have a few minutes to talk. Hoping. Wishing.

The call makes it through, and two faces greet him, smiling happily. The girl in red breaks the silence first.

ㅤㅤㅤ“It's been a while, Lee.” she stops, as if pondering if it's plausible to ask about his condition when it's obvious. “How are things on your side?”

ㅤㅤㅤ“Nothing new. The fights are endlessly annoying but, it's fine. I'm fine.” His voice cracks at the end, how terrible he has been at lying lately, or maybe he is too tired to pretend. Lee knows his teammates are aware of his state.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Lee…” the soft voice from Liv seemed to echo inside the tower, he nods and smile, “I know it's useless to say but, do please take care of yourself. I also know you're capable but.. We are worried about you. Especially Commandant.”She finished, her pink eyes showing great concern.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Commandant is a bit busy now. We would've called him but I know you have your ways.” Lucia explained, a chuckle escaped from her mouth.

Lee laughs at that. Indeed, he has his ways to contact his Commandant. “Thank you, I really mean it.” He finally spoke, the bitterness can be tasted, smelled and felt. Too heavy. “My time is running out. When I get another break, I will try to contact you guys again. Please take care.” He smiles again, and ends the call.

There's never a “goodbye”. Because he doesn't want to think about an end. As much as he is tired and his frame is at its limit on par with his M.I.N.D slowly losing complete focus from time to time, more often than not, Lee would reject the idea of a last call with his friends. That won't happen. He refuses to let that be part of his reality.

More often than not, he finds himself considering giving up and leaving, letting the wheel of destiny decide his punishment but there's something, someone, that keeps him from doing so. Or more like a “possible future”. Where there's no one, when the person he has come to cherish a little bit too much is no longer by his side, where his teammates are no longer walking with him but just a name in a marble stone. That was scary enough for him. The weight it's too much again.

His break is about to end. Taking a deep breath, he takes his device and taps a message and presses the send button, with the same address. For the same person. With the same words. He can feel an insufferable pain packing up inside his chest, filling the space between his ribs, crushing his artificial heart. He is shaking. His eyes are burning and tears are building up, but it's not the time.

It has never been. It probably never will.

He stands up, weapon in his hands. Time is running and it will never stop, no matter how many times he goes back, no matter how much he wishes and hopes, because time has never cared for that. So, for now, he just needs to keep going, and maybe one day, time will stop for him and he will be able to go back home. Go back to his friends. To his Commandant and be part of Gray Raven again.

…………

The digital screen beeps at the new message. He knows who sent it, and it's the reason he is also a bit reluctant to open it. He is always afraid it will be the last. His fingers trace the screen before lightly pressing over the email icon. A small text shows up, saying:

ㅤㅤㅤ“It's been a while. I know Liv and Lucia are there to take care of you, but I've got to know you enough to understand you're a magnet for troubles. So, don't do anything stupid.

ㅤㅤㅤ I don't have much time, there's nothing new. I am doing as fine as I can, you don't need to worry (I know you will, but don't let my situation distract you from your job, Commandant).

ㅤㅤㅤ ………… I miss you. I miss you a lot. It even hurts a bit sometimes. But I'm always hoping. Hoping that one day I will be by your side again, seeing you smile, holding your hand. I miss your warmth. The idea of going back to you, to Gray Raven keeps me going.

ㅤㅤㅤ I have to go. See you next time.”

And without knowing, despite the distance between them, tears were shed at the same time. Because time was the only thing connecting them.

#pgr #punishing gray raven #pgr lee #lee hyperreal #pgr global #canon divergence #oc x canon #sae pgr writings #pgr commandant #pgr fanfic

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andrea-lyn · 1 year

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ATLA recs post take 2 (electric boogaloo). Am I totally unsurprised I have enough for a third post at some point? Nope. ANYWAY, enjoy another round -- once again predominantly Zukka, though there’s some f/f in this round!

ATLA Recs #2

i wanna be still with you by tristanyvaine

Handwritten letters sent back and forth do not a love story make. Or. Maybe they do, in the case of a certain Fire Lord and Water Tribe warrior who happen to fall in love over sending letters to each other at least.

keeps me up late at night by midnights

Fifteen years since the war had ended, and still Zuko remembered every step of the way as if it were yesterday. More than anything, he remembered Sokka. He'd been in love with him then, and he still was.

ft. ambassador sokka, fancy parties, pining zuko, and two oblivious fools

the brightest you've ever been by panthalassas

Azula folds herself into the lotus position and empties her mind. Then Yue places her hands on either side of Azula's face, and her mind fills back up again. Or: Yue notices Azula is lonely. Turns out, Azula's ready to feel some emotions.

real love baby by verdanthoney

Five times Zuko and Sokka pretend they aren't in love, and one time they don't.

OR,

Sokka initiates a friends with benefits relationship between them, and Zuko keeps coming back for more.

Seasons in the Sun by burkesl17

Ambassador Sokka's first year in the Fire Nation, a story for each of its seasons. With thunder, assassins, blossoms, poison, politics, volcanoes and a baby dragon. Also falling in love.

Or: four parties, four assassination attempts.

Please Return if Found by CSHfic, VSfic

When Sokka sees a “lost pet” poster near his apartment for an actual, literal dragon, he thinks it’s a joke.

Right up until he finds the dragon sitting on his couch.

Nobility by hikuni

Book 3. Sokka/Zuko. Set after The Boiling Rock Pt. 2, Sokka and Zuko explore the Western Air Temple, where Sokka tries to get Zuko to talk about girls, marriage, and maybe even a future for the two of them.

Worship the Ashes by meregalaxiesandgods, patentpending

All Azula wants is for things to go back to the way they were – her father on the precipice of conquering the world, her own position secure at his right hand. Now, the only secure thing is her, trapped in a gilded cage in her brother's new Fire Nation. Lonely and adrift, Azula would do anything to make it end, until an unexpected connection rekindles a light she long-thought had burned to ashes. But falling for Suki isn't something Azula can let herself do, especially with the world as they know it threatening to crumble around them.

Or: Azula goes to therapy, has an identity crisis, stops actively trying to kill her brother, makes a few friends, and falls in love along the way.

No Quiet Life by JustGettingBy

Zuko's not sure when it started. It would be easy to say it started with Boiling Rock, or with the Western Air Temple. But whenever it started, his crush isn’t about to go away anytime soon.

“It’s not too late, ‘Lee’. We could steal a boat. Sail across the high seas until we hit the horizon. Spend the rest of our days living off the land.” He brandishes his arm as if to show Zuko the untapped potential of their future as wild hunters.

“No, Sokka.”

Sokka shrugs. “Well, it was worth a shot. When you’re up to your eyeballs in expense reports, don’t say I didn’t ask.”

Zuko’s mouth feels very dry. “I won’t.”

virtues uncounted by bloobeary

fire lord zuko visits the southern water tribe eight years after the war ends

based on that text post

Will We Last the Night by CSHfic, VSfic (My absolute fave of the canon rewrites for its wildly IC enemies-to-lovers feel)!

Chief Arnook never assigns Sokka to protect Princess Yue, so he goes to fight the Fire Nation with the other men. When the moon dies, and the ocean spirit takes its revenge, Sokka is caught standing on the deck of a Fire Nation ship. Sokka should have drowned… and he would have drowned, if not for a certain Fire Nation raft fleeing the North Pole.

[An enemies-to-lovers season 2 rewrite, where Sokka is separated from the gaang during the Siege of the North, and travels the Earth Kingdom with Zuko instead].

Ashes Inside When You Finish Your Song by Muncaster

Sokka writes lyrics for his sister’s band. Zuko plays piano and is unnecessarily nice. Fellas, is it gay to write love songs about your friend and his golden eyes?

(AKA, a modern band AU featuring The Gaang, crappy software equipment, homoerotic lyrics, and the realization that maybe, if you think about a guy every night before you sleep, you just might be in love with him.)

Relief Next to Me by wilteddaisy (taotu)

Sokka thinks Ozai’s beach house is pretty awesome. Slightly less awesome is the couch he has to sleep on, as is accidentally getting into Zuko’s bed. At first, that is.

#atla #atla fic recs #atla recs #zukka recs #avatar the last airbender fic recs

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iaminsidethedufferswalls · 2 years

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Genuinely trying to think about how the duffers could satisfy Will’s gay-and-in-love-with-Mike arc in any other way besides making Byler canon without it being super offensive and homophobic.

The way I see it, there are three non-Byler possibilities that are most likely:

They kill Will before Mike can find out about his feelings

Will gets rejected

They never address Will’s love for Mike in a romantic sense again.

And now comes the part where I do a probably nonsensical rundown of the problems with each of these, I apologize in advance.

They kill Will

I assume I don’t even have to explain why this would be insanely homophobic. Refusing to ever let Will have happiness, constantly torturing him, making him in love with his (at least he thinks) straight best friend, only to then kill him?

And not only to kill him, but to have homophobic slurs hurled at him by his father, his peers, and other adults around him as well as be shamed even by his best friend for his queerness (it’s not my fault you don’t like girls!) only to never let him even say ‘I’m gay’ on-screen.

To use his love to prop up a het relationship where he is in love with one of the members. And kill him before he ever even gets to tell his best friend he is in love with him, making him the only main character who doesn’t get at least one successful romantic arc.

Honestly might be able to beat Destiel for most homophobic gay confirmation. At least Will and Castiel will get along in superhell.

Mike Rejects Will

What would even be the point of making Will in love with Mike if it’s not requited? If his queerness was always planned to be a big part of his storyline, there are so many other ways that they could do that so much more respectfully.

Give Will a boyfriend and have the arch be about Mike having a problem because ‘friends don’t lie’ and Will didn’t tell him about his boyfriend. Have no romantic arch and just make it about Will coming out. Make it about Will learning to reject the homophobia of the time and accept himself.

I understand queer people to fall in love with straight friends sometimes. It happens. But these cishet men do not have the trust of the queer community to go forward with portraying these issues respectfully.

It’s not ‘oh, look, an accurate queer experience being respectfully shown on-screen for the benefit of the queer audience!’, it comes off to queer people as ‘look at this pathetic queer, isn’t his gay little life miserable?’.

Queer people know it’s hard to be queer sometimes. We don’t need a (slap in the face) reminder from people who have never had to experience our struggles.

They Just Drop The Storyline and Don’t Address It Again

Gotta say, out of all of these this one is the least likely. It is completely unparalleled in the amount of oversight, shitty writing, and just altogether disregard for Will’s character.

Imagine if they really foreshadowed Will’s feelings for Mike since SEASON 1 and then in season four actually have them on-screen (while still refusing to openly state them, but that’s a post for another day) only to immediately drop the story and pretend he’s not hopelessly in love with his best friend any more after his love has served the heterosexual storyline.

I desperately want to believe the suffer brothers have the wherewithal and literary competence to not do this. But I don’t want to get my hopes up.

Fourth Surprise Option

After the doom and gloom of the last one, I’ll say that I genuinely believe that Byler would be the best narrative choice, and definitely not impossible/off the table. I hope the suffers do the right thing and (in my own personal opinion) the best thing for the story.

#byler analysis #byler #will byers #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers deserves better #mike wheeler i know what you are #should I tag this byler doubt?#my posts

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blackbird-brewster · 7 months

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EMILY! (Oct. 12, 1970)

To celebrate here's a head-canon about Emily and birthdays [Or Read it on AO3]:

Rated: Teen WC: 2230 Tags: Birthdays, developing relationship, early season Jemily, fluff

Emily never really celebrated birthdays before she came to the BAU, and specifically, before JJ decided it was her mission in life to make sure Emily had the best birthdays ever.

Growing up, the only time Emily's birthdays were ever really acknowledged, in the way a kid should have their birthday acknowledged, was when it was turned into a political function where she had to wear perfect dresses, have perfect hair and talk to her mother's political friends while acting like the perfect daughter. So kids ever came to those "birthday parties" because she didn't ever really have friends in school and even if she did, they had to be vetted by her Mother who would ultimately reject all of them anyway. There were some children of other politicians, but they all hung out with each other, leaving Emily by herself to socialize with adults on a peripheral level

Most of the time though, her Mother wasn't even in the same country for Emily's birthday, let alone in the same house, and Emily was totally alone minus some of the staff who did their best to let her have a special day with a fresh made birthday cake and maybe some trinkets they were able to get together. Emily loved those presents honestly; local knickknacks, books in other languages, types of cultural clothing; she still has all of them as an adult. But even then, her birthday always felt like a hollow celebration. What was the point? Another trip around the sun? So what. Another day to be reminded of having everything and nothing growing up? No thanks.

When she joins the BAU, only Hotch and JJ know her birthday because they had to look at her paperwork when she joined. Although, JJ is the only one who remembers her birthday, because she went through protocol with Emily and made the effort to memorise the date.

The first time her birthday passes while she's with the BAU, Emily's surprised when JJ asks if she has any "exciting plans" for the day. They barely know each other, and Emily couldn't figure out why JJ even remembered when her birthday was. Emily chalks it up to just JJ randomly recalling it, since Emily joined not far from October, so it wasn't too absurd for JJ to still have the date in the back of her mind.

But Emily's still caught off guard by the question and gives a vague answer that causes JJ to smile amenably and sincerely wish her a happy birthday on her way out of the office. Emily thinks it's stupid that it means so much to her, that this woman she doesn't know that well, but is certain she's on the path to developing a high school level crush on, is wishing her a happy birthday without prompting and Emily tries to stop thinking about it all that night, but she can't.

JJ texts her later that night and says that she, Garcia, and Morgan had gone out for drinks and "I know you're probably busy with birthday plans, but if you have a minute to stop in, we'd love it if you would join us." Emily moves to respond, but then she doesn't because she doesn't want to let them know how she's just been sitting alone on her birthday weekend, when her co-workers obviously think she's out doing something special to mark the occasion. She convinces herself JJ's nicety is nothing more than her way to extend an obligatory 'new team member' invitation, as a way to try to make Emily feel included, so she doesn't reply, she doesn't go out with them, she just turns her phone off for the night and the next day she pretends nothing ever happened.

The second birthday Emily has at the BAU; she'd definitely grown closer to everyone and her crush on JJ has since turned into a full out "oh god please stop this train" type of feeling, Emily is totally in love with her.

JJ knows that Emily's not into her birthday by this point, everyone knows by this point because Emily dodges any mention of it. But the whole two weeks leading up to Em's birthday, JJ and Garcia are trying to figure out her plans, if she even has any, because JJ is dead-set on throwing this woman a party and Emily is just not having any of it at all; she can tell they're both up to something and that's why they keep needling her for her plans, so she keeps giving them the vaguest of vague answers, knowing that if she gives them anything concrete one way or the other, they'll make plans and Emily definitely doesn't want that. She feels uncomfortable making anyone to go out of their way for her, which makes her completely miss the fact that JJ wants to do this, she wants to go out of her way to do something nice for Emily.

Emily manages to dodge everyone getting into her business about her plans and she settles down at home for her birthday weekend, just hoping to catch up on house chores she'd been neglecting, because of work. And while she used to brood the whole day, just be the personification of gloom, that act got old after college and now, it genuinely feels like any other day in the year.

In fact, if JJ hadn't brought it up the last two years, Emily probably wouldn't have even remembered in the first place, because outside the fact that a (typewritten by her personal assistant) card from her Mother ends up in her mailbox either the week before or the week after her birthday, Emily honestly doesn't pay attention to the date at all.

She carries on with her Saturday, like any other Saturday she has off. She wakes up when her body feels like it, instead of when the alarm goes off, she goes for a run, she eats cereal on her couch still in her sweaty running clothes while aimlessly flipping through channels, she takes the longest shower she can stand while blasting music and then she gets into a clean pair of underwear and a tank top, with literally no plans to put normal clothes on for the next twelve hours. At the end of the day when her house is clean and she's caught up on some paperwork and checked all her work emails, she decides to chill out, sprawled across her couch watching a nature documentary marathon and drinking wine and then, there's a knock on her door.

She's instantly confused, because she didn't ask anyone over and no one text her saying they were coming over. She knows she only just ordered Chinese delivery two minutes ago, which means it can't be them. And at this point, she's completely forgotten it's her birthday. But she rolls herself off the couch to go answer the door, and there's JJ standing there looking gorgeous, as usual, but her expression is excited and a little uncertain.

Emily cocks her head to one side, asking her if she's okay and JJ says of course she is, and then falls silent. Emily's left trying to figure out what's going on, she gives JJ a drawn out "okaaaaay, and?", while noticing how JJ keeps fiddling with the collar of her coat without saying anything useful. Emily finally shrugs and lets her in, mentioning she'd just ordered food and there'd definitely be leftovers, so if JJ wanted to stay and eat that'd be cool. She offers her some wine, which JJ accepts eagerly.

Emily goes to the kitchen to pour another glass, then when she comes back, JJ's still standing near the front hall, still in her coat, and looking a bit nervous. Emily's confused, because JJ had been to her apartment a million times before, so Emily has no idea what the hell JJ is nervous about. She thinks, maybe, JJ is in some type of hurry. Then quickly decides that's not the case, since JJ already agreed to stay for dinner, and even though she's in her coat, JJ has, at least, already kicked her shoes off.

Emily hands her the glass of wine, which JJ doesn't even look at before setting it down on the coffee table. She takes a deep breath and returns to stand in front of Emily, while clearing her throat awkwardly to try and explain.

JJ tells Emily that she'd been thinking about some way to make Em's birthdays mean something, and Emily kind of snickers because she only just remembered it was her birthday when JJ said as much in the moment, and she tells JJ that she's not avoiding her birthday every year because she's lonely and it's not about hating anything, it's quite literally that Emily just does not care about it, because it's not important enough to care about.

JJ pulls a hand through her hair, arguing that it is important. She explains that just because people (Emily's mother) acted like it wasn't, didn't mean that was true. And she tells Emily that she's the most intelligent, kind, nerdy, genuine, loving, beautiful woman JJ had ever met, and it's a goddamn shame that there isn't a celebration for every single day she's present in the world, but especially on the day that the world was blessed to welcome someone like her into it. JJ gets really impassioned about it, to the point Emily is flustered about what JJ's saying.

Emily doesn't know really how to respond and holy shit, did JJ call her beautiful? She did, and honestly, JJ had told her the same thing before, but the way she was saying it now -- Emily decides maybe she'd had too much wine, because she's reading into things that aren't there again. And she notices that, somehow, they'd gotten super into each other's personal space while JJ was talking. Emily can feel that her face is red, so she takes a step back and tells JJ 'thank you, that that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me', because it's true, but JJ says she isn't done yet.

JJ says that she'd been trying to figure Emily out for a while, ever since Emily joined the BAU, but JJ understood now, she'd made a mistake, because Emily wasn't the kind of person one could just 'figure out'. Which only made her even more appealing to JJ.

Then JJ tells her about how she was nominally against dating coworkers, so she'd tried to ignore the feelings she'd been developing for Emily for the last years, but sometimes it felt like it was a tidal wave and she was going to drown. And just like a tidal wave, it was useless to try and fight against the current; sometimes you just have to let it carry you out into the unknown.

JJ knows that Emily feels something for her too, but it doesn't matter to her if it's not exactly the same as what she feels, it doesn't matter if it's not the same magnitude. The important part is Emily feels something, anything, mutual.

JJ tells Emily that she'd been thinking for ages about the perfect present to give her, but what do you get for someone who basically has everything? She was going to try and throw Emily a party to show her that people cared about her and loved her, but then she realized what Emily had already said, it wasn't that she thought people didn't care, it was that Emily herself didn't care, her birthday would never truly mean anything to her.

To JJ though, well, Emily's birthday may as well be a high holy day as far as she was concerned, and the only thing she could think of to give Emily that would prove how much she truly means to JJ, was herself.

And that's when JJ recloses the distance between them and just kisses Emily stupid.

Instantly, they're groping each other like hormonal teenagers and they end up falling into each other on the couch. JJ suggested they go to the bedroom in the most eloquent of ways between kisses ("Uhm...Em?...Bedroom?"), but Emily responded just as eloquently when she can bear to pull her mouth away from JJ's throat and collarbone ("Hmm?...What? No...Too far")

So the couch is where they end up and Emily finally gets JJ out of her jacket. And in that moment, she almost loses her grip on reality altogether, because JJ came prepared for this. Under her jacket, she was wearing the most ridiculously attractive violet lingerie set Emily'd ever set her eyes on, let alone seen on another person, and it causes her to completely stop what she's doing, because she's legitimately struck with awe.

JJ is more pleased than a puppy in a tennis ball factory, because that's exactly the reaction she'd been hoping for. She grins and says "Happy birthday, Em" and Emily whispers rather reverently "it certainly is" before fucking JJ into oblivion.

And that was the best birthday Emily ever had in her life and after that year, Emily's birthday was always celebrated, because her girlfriend refused to have it any other way. And who was Emily to argue?

#criminal minds #emily prenitss #jemily #jennifer jareau #cm fanfiction #cm headcanon #my writing #happy birthday

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