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#and to be clear there is no right answer! i think all of these are wonderful for their own reasons :D
donatellawritings · 3 days
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୨୧ how sugardaddy!rafe found his favorite little muñeca
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rafe wasn’t entirely sure as to what it was that piqued his father’s need to go on vacation every few months out of the year, but he wasn’t against it. since returning back to tannyhill, following his brief collegiate stint, rafe needed an outlet — a place where he could go and blow a few tens of thousands of dollars and not be reprimanded, a place where he could lose himself in copious amounts of coke without judgement, a place where he could be the man — the one who was needed, the one who had all the answers.
so, when ward came up with the brilliant idea to send his eldest of kin to the island of culebra, puerto rico — just to keep his volatile son out of trouble … rafe was quick and eager to oblige.
the villa was immaculate, completely renovated from the ground up, with the pristine view of the clear turquoise waters that crashed against the powder white sand. but what caught rafe’s bright baby blues was the little puerto rican girl who stood bent over, tiny white shorts sucked in the soft fat of your plush ass as you carefully picked at the bright fuschia hibiscus flower that grew alone in the patch of crisp green grass. shiny blown out hair cascaded down the small of your back as rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, watching closely as you straightened your posture, the shorts now almost entirely swallowed by your plump ass.
rafe couldn’t help himself, but continue to ogle at you, his bloodshot eyes carelessly drinking in the way your bronze skin shimmered under the sun, as well as the cute hot pink heart-shaped glitter tattoo that sparkled on your lower back. and fuck, it took everything in him to not shove his hand down his pants with the way the fat of your ass sat all heavy and perfectly curved against the flimsy fabric of your shorts.
smiling to himself, rafe obnoxiously clears his throat, causing you to flinch and whip your pretty little head at him, all wide eyed and open-mouthed, “uh, don’t think y’should be pickin’ at other people’s flowers, huh?” he questions, his voice dripping in a condescending cadence as you immediately drop the pretty flower from your small fist, allowing it to fall at your sparkly pink toes.
remaining silent, you awkwardly shift on your feet, blinking your wispy lashes together as you close your mouth, “i’m sorry, i just — hmph,” you sigh, your nose scrunched in frustration as you struggled to find the right words … in english, at least.
cocking his head to the side, rafe chuckles at your fussy state, his stringy bangs masking the way he incessantly stared at the way the swells of your breasts bounced against your one size too small lily pink triangle bikini top. judging by your thick accent, rafe could tell that communicating with you would be a bit of a struggle — lucky for you, he considered himself to be a proactive man of sorts.
taking a step closer to you, rafe feigns a sigh of disappointment, even going so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose “i don’t know, i may just have to tell someone that y’just comin’ here and makin’ a mess of things — i can’t have that, sweetheart,” he shrugs.
your little heart thumped rapidly against your chest as you bit down into your pouty bottom lip, swallowing thickly as you brought your terrified gaze to the ground.
deciding to twist the knife, rafe nudged the point of your chin with the side of his signet-tinged index finger with squinted eyes, “y’parents never taught y’how to talk to people, huh?” he questions, his pupil-blown eyes searching yours as you parted your swollen lips.
furiously shaking your head, you take a short breath, “i-i dunno how — the words are h-hard,” you speak, your voice small and mousey as your eyes meet rafe’s intimidatingly blue ones.
“well, y’gotta learn, yeah?” rafe shrugs.
with bright and naive eyes, you let out an excited gasp, “you can teach me?” you question, swollen lips pursed together as rafe licks over his pink chapped lips, taking another step closer to you as his rough hand grasps the side of your face.
you were a naive little one, a bit too welcoming … but he could fix teach you.
bringing his thumb to curve around your jaw, rafe shushes you, “y’shouldn’t be walkin’ around stranger’s houses dressed like that — your daddy ever teach you that?” rafe lightly pushes your head back, a shit-eating grin now playing on his handsome face as you obediently answer him with a forceful shake of your head.
your bambi eyes now welled with embarrassed tears, you gently attempted to pull your face from the young man’s tight hold, “yo no tengo …” you whimper softly.
shifting your face, rafe raises a corrective brow at you, “english, kid,” he scolds.
poking out your fat bottom lip in a wobbly pout, you lightly stomp your foot in frustration, “i don’t have a daddy,” you whine, a warm teardrop rolling down the apple of your cheek as rafe tutted at you with a knowing nod to himself.
“that’s the problem, huh? y’don’t have a daddy to keep y’little ass in line,” rafe mumbles, bringing his thumb to mush against your swollen and somewhat sticky lips as you stare at him with confused, yet needy little eyes.
letting go of your jaw, rafe runs a hand through his greasy hair, before swiping at the corner of his mouth with his finger, “listen kid, m’gonna take care of you, yeah? buy you whatever girly shit y’like — maybe even take y’home with me one of these days —”
“like a daddy?”
letting out a huff, rafe takes in the way you reach down to grab ahold of the wilted flower, boobs nearly spilling out of your bikini tops as you fist it tightly in your grip, “yes, but i’ll be your daddy —”
“papi!” you beam, a wide smile stretching your swollen lips as you bat your cutesy stacked lashes together, “that’s your name?” you ask politely, reaching your small hands to tug on the waistband of your shorts, unknowingly pulling them further up your ass.
“rafe is my name, pretty girl — but y’can call me papi, okay?” he coos, swiftly snagging the flimsy flower from your hand, causing you to pout as you roll your eyes, leaving rafe to snap his fingers at you, “hey — don’t start that shit, now come here and let me fix y’up,” he commands, internally satisfied with the way you quickly removed the frown from your face and walked over to him, the tips of your toes meeting the tips of his sandals.
curling a ginger underneath the waistband of your shorts, rafe softly pulls on the stretchy fabric, taking a mental note of the frilly thing you wore underneath. placing the flower in your shorts, rafe carefully secures the band of your shorts to hold the flower upright, you dainty belly button ring also catching his watchful eyes.
craning your neck to get a look of your cute new accessory, you scoff with excitement, “aye, es muy bonita, papi!” you squeal, rushing to swing your arms around rafe’s tense and warm neck.
lightly patting the top of the curve of your asscheek, rafe gently pulls you away from him, “listen, kid — y’can’t just trust every person you meet, yeah? not everyone is going to be nice like your papi, hm?” he clasps his hands around your bare shoulders, biting back a smirk as you nod feverishly.
“tell me that you understand,” rafe pushes, silently encouraging you with a small squeeze of your shoulders.
“i und-understand,” you breathe out.
bringing a hand to barely pat your cheek, rafe reaches his free hand down to tug the hem of your shorts down to cover your ass, “good girl — now why don’t y’come with daddy and i’ll buy y’some pretty clothes,” rafe hums, massaging your cheek with his thumb.
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nyrasproblm · 3 days
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I'm not the only one - 5
Leto Atreides x reader
Word Count: 1,2K
Warning: angst, age difference, arranged marriage, mention of infidelity, misogyny, reader is kind of toxic.
series masterlist | next chapter
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Leaning further over the dark stone railing of your bedroom balcony, you rubbed your face with your hands in a frustrated movement. When you looked up, you stared at the large rugged stones that formed the shield wall.
You didn't know why you were so angry, it shouldn't surprise you, Jessica's pregnancy, after all, that's her purpose inside the castle, to sleep with him. But it didn't matter, you were very upset, furious, so before she could answer your question you continued chewing and the rest of the meal passed in silence. When you were done, you quietly left the table.
This happened a few days ago and you once again trapped yourself in the comfort of your quarters, not wanting to interact with anyone. You knew you might be acting childish, but you were too angry to even think straight. To make your mood even worse, you remembered your father and let out a disgruntled groan, hiding your face in your hands again.
Your father would make your life hell, through letters, when he found out that the duke's concubine was pregnant and you weren't, even though you explained a thousand times before you got married that the possibility of having an heir with him was minimal, since he already had one as an adult. Your father didn't care. 'It is a woman's duty to give children to her lord husband' was what he said.
You didn't really have any opinion to give, Leto was in charge of the castle, and he could do whatever he wanted. You were nothing compared to him. A soft knock sounded on the thick door of your quarters and you let yourself in without looking back, a huge danger, Thufir would kill you if he saw that.
"Milady Duchess, you must prepare for dinner with the Duke." Raja's serious voice spoke from behind you and you looked over your shoulder.
"Did he demand my presence?"
"The duke says it's your obligation as a wife, my lady." she replied and you had to remember all the etiquette lessons you had to not frown and send Raja away.
"Right." you replied and left the porch, walking in measured steps to the bed. "Help me, yes?"
"What dress would you like, my lady?" she asked.
"Choose it yourself." you replied in a tired voice.
"But, duchess–"
She stopped talking at the tired and serious look you gave her, turned and walked to the closet. It took a few minutes until she returned with a burgundy dress, made of soft material and with sleeves glued to the arms, gathered at the bust and near the skirts.
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Raja dressed you and fixed your hair, she also ran a soft cloth over your face to improve the exhausted look, you hoped it worked. Holding back your sighs of irritation and discontent, you walked to the dining room and the guards opened the large doors, you walked through them and entered the large room.
"My lord." you greeted Leto, who was sitting at the end of the table, before starting to walk to the other end, but he cleared his throat.
"Not today, I want you to sit here next to me." he said, in a way that you couldn't decipher what he felt.
Using more of your etiquette training, you suppressed the urge to distort your face into an expression of disgust and gracefully walked to the seat next to his, sat down, and dinner began to be served. You ate silently, you had already learned to keep your mouth closed during dinners, just the soft noise of the cutlery.
"You locked yourself in your quarters again, from what I've been told." his voice cut through the silence.
Feeling your brow furrow in irritation, you couldn't help yourself:
"You are constantly informed about my every step, you never see it with your own eyes.”
The Duke looked up, but you kept your eyes on the wine glass that was next to your plate.
"I have to spend more time in the landing pad tower, I moved the staff meetings there." he said after clearing his throat. "I wish I could spend more time here."
It seems to me that you had plenty of time to put a baby in Lady Jessica, you thought venomously, but remained silent.
"I don't like that, our coexistence was better." he started again. "Tell me your thoughts, regarding my concubine's pregnancy."
"I have no opinion to express, sire." you replied, lowering your face.
"Don't call me sire, I'm your husband." his tone sounded slightly irritated. "I'm trying hard to treat you properly but you don't cooperate with me."
"My opinion is that the fact that she is pregnant is a huge disrespect to me, I know that our union is political but you must respect me at least in public." you spat, feeling the back of your neck heat up.
"A disrespect? I respect you, I have respected you since the day we got married." he replied, his brow furrowing slightly.
"It's not exactly an act of respect to impregnate your bedmate while I still have no heirs." you blurted out.
"I don't accept you talking about my lifemate like that." he scolded and you closed your hands into fists under the table. "And I made it very clear that I wouldn't have any children with you the first time we had dinner together."
"Is that why you started the conversation? To mistreat me like you always do?”
"I didn't mistreat you, I'm making your place in this union and in this castle very clear. Jessica has been my partner for sixteen years and is the mother of my son. You are nothing more than title and obligation." he finished speaking and took a deep breath, he seemed tired from the effort of saying everything in one breath.
His words carried so much truth that you raised your face and stared at the duke's troubled expression for a few minutes, before wiping your mouth with your napkin and asking for permission to leave.
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Your stomach dropped as you walked into the hallway of your quarters and saw Lady Jessica standing near the door, her hands braided in front of her, her body draped in a simple black dress, her hair tied up in a bun, not a single strand of hair outside the top. place. Leto was right, you weren't even close to her.
"Lady Jessica, what are you doing here?" you asked when you got close to her. She swallowed hard and bowed to you.
"I was hoping to speak to you for a moment, Duchess." she replied softly.
"It's too late, we can talk tomorrow." you replied and surprisingly you weren't being venomous, it was really too late and you were exhausted.
"I do not wish to disturb you, my lady, I just want to clarify–"
"Tomorrow, Lady Jessica." you replied, feeling your head throbbing. "You should go and keep my husband company, he should already be in his quarters."
Passing by the catatonic figure, you entered your room and closed the door, leaning against it for a moment, closing your eyes and sighing heavily.
Leto's words wouldn't leave your mind anytime soon.
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sailor-aviator · 1 day
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Hey.
Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.
So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.
I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.
Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.
I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.
Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.
The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.
How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.
Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.
Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.
Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.
To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.
Nothing but love,
Liz 💛
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 days
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When I Became a Believer
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Azriel Fem!Reader
Part Four
Summary - After dancing under the stars, you wake up and find yourself reuniting with a male you never thought you'd encounter again. Though, lurking fragments of your past life in Spring rear their ugly heads and you find that a certain someone isn't ready to let you live happily ever after.
Warnings - fluff, old friends reuniting, some angst, mentions of past trauma, slight ptsd themes.
Part four of the 'When I Kissed The Teacher' series - sorry it's taken so long! My inspiration has been very Eris driven recently.
Part One - When I Kissed the Teacher
Part Two - When I Met The Devil
Part Three - When I Danced Under The Stars
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The warmth of the sunlight drifting through the slightly ajar curtains wasn't the thing that woke you that morning.
No.
It was Azriel's strong arm flung over your side which awoke you, more like made you jump from your skin at the groggy half-asleep haze you'd awoken to. The bed you lay in was usually yours alone, and it had been an extremely long time since you had allowed anyone into that space, since you had allowed someone to hold you.
Azriel was shirtless, clad in a black pair of loose cotton pants and little else, he lay on his front with his wings tucked back, your bed wasn't made to accommodate the Illyrian wingspan, and you frowned softly when you realised just how uncomfortable he must have been.
As if they had sensed you, his shadows danced over his shoulders and down his arm, peppering your face in sweet kisses as they coiled over your cheeks, one of them slithered backward and you watched it with a soft smile as it hovered by his ear. A lazy smirk fell on his lips and his voice called to you, as rough and warm as whisky, "You're staring."
"I can't help it," he squeezed the skin beneath your clothed him, you were drowned in a sheer lilac nightgown, and Azriel shuffled your positions so that his wings go stretch out a little, pulling you into his side and curling his wing around you, "I'm sorry for the bed, I know it's not exactly the best size for your wings."
Azriel hummed, eyes still half-closed, sunlight streaking over the right side of his face, "It doesn't bother me," he craned his neck to peer down on you, his eyelids blinking slowly as they adjusted and began to wake, "It was perhaps the most peaceful sleep I've had for awhile."
Tracing small shapes on his taut and exposed chest, you asked, "Really?"
"Really," his calloused fingers entwined themselves in your own, and he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly, "How are you feeling?"
It was a question that you didn't really know how to answer, but you tried, "I'm okay. Part of me is still shaken up from seeing him, I think it'll take some time to believe that he's not going to do something to me. I just wasn't ready to remember it all so suddenly, I suppose."
Azriel had made it very clear that you needn't tell him about the details of your life before Velaris, not if you didn't want to, and if you never did, Azriel was also at peace with that. The past life you had lived did not define you, your home court and family name did not define you, what defined you was what shone through the cracks in the darkness, the kindness and unwavering loyalty and irrevocable devotion to his family.
"I understand," his shadows floated over you, almost embracing you themselves, and Azriel made no move to pull them away, "If you're reconsidering meeting with Lucien, if you're not ready, then you don't have to see him."
Shaking your head, you sighed, "No. It's been so long," you looked to him through your lashes and sent him a reassuring smile, "Lucien saved my life, and I never had to chance to really thank him before he threw me on that horse and sent me away."
There was no reality that existed where you would ever say no to reuniting with Lucien, the male who kept you sane and made you feel seen and heard, the only male in your life at that point who had refused to stand by and watch the torture unfold.
Azriel pressed his lips to your forehead, his fingers caressing the side of your face as he pulled you closer into his side, wrapping both of his arms around you and relishing in the contact of your warmth and light, "I'll go and get us breakfast," he mumbled into your hair, letting his lips trail downward until they caught yours in a quick but tender kiss, a fleeting thing that felt natural.
You whimpered as he pulled himself from the bed, flexing his wings and rolling his neck, to pop the stiffness from them. Gazing back at you, he smirked, leaning over the side of the bed and kissing you again, humming against your lips before pulling back slightly, "I could get used to this."
"What?" Your fingers trailed along the curve of his jaw and his eyes bore into yours.
"Waking up next to you," the tip of his nose sloped down your own and then he pulled away entirely, tugging a shirt over his chest that he must have gone to retrieve once he had put your sleeping body to bed the night before, "Have a bath, I'll be back soon."
The silence yearned for him to return, but you waited a few moments before rising, the warmth of the sun washed over you through the fully opened curtains which illuminated your entire room, a room that held the mingled scents of you and Azriel. It wrapped the space in an ethereal, untouchable shield of sorts.
Laughter echoed from beyond the window and you took minute to appreciate it all, the looming mountains that had kept you hidden from the moment you had stepped into Velaris from Hewn City, the gardens and fields that were littered in every space possible, birthing life and beauty, and you bowed to the notion that perhaps you were safe, that Velaris was your home and you belonged there.
Though, as you peered at your own garden, expecting to see the array of blush pink and lilac tulips swaying in the wind, you frowned as your eye caught something out of place. A single tulip with petals of burgundy. To anyone else it would represent love, to anyone else, it wouldn't mean anything at all.
But you were from Spring, and you knew flowers. In all of the time you spent locked up at that manor playing pet to Tamlin, you had learnt every meaning of every beautiful flower in existence, he knew that.
That's why the sight of those blood-red petals made your heart flutter. It was a warning, an angry warning of the wrath you would face. That flower wasn't what unsettled you though, it was the fact that it had been so delicately placed in the garden of your home, like he was taunting you, telling you that he knew where you were.
You wished you could have laughed it off like it was a silly thing of nothingness, you knew anyone else would. So, you gobbled it down and supressed that fleeting feeling telling you to run as far and as fats as your legs could carry you. Azriel would protect you.
Right?
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It had taken buckets full of courage to leave the confinements of your home, half of you didn't want to step outside, the image of that lone red tulip swaying in a different direction than the rest playing on a constant in your mind.
But Lucien was waiting for you.
Rhys had arranged it, the meeting at the River House, a much more informal abode compared to that of the House of Wind. Calling it a meeting alone was too formal for you to handle, what would you call two friends reuniting after such a time apart? Not a meeting, that was for sure.
Exhaling shakily, you couldn't bring yourself to move from the foot of the path, the last time you had been there you had seen him, and you couldn't be completely sure he wouldn't be there waiting for you again.
Sensing your doubt, Azriel laced his fingers with yours, and offered a soft smile, one that you couldn't quite return, "We can leave," he told you, he had watched you get ready, he had watched you change your outfit seven times until you settled on a pale blue sun dress with puffy sleeves and a white lace corset moulded into the bodice.
He had told you that you looked beautiful and breath-taking, and you had merely muttered a small thank you before taking his outstretched hand. Azriel noticed your clammy palms, he didn't move away from you as your free hand clasped around his bicep, using him as a crutch.
"No. I'm okay. Just give me a second," you squeezed your eyes closed, taking a moment to steady your breath and work up the courage to enter the home and live the dream you had always drifted to, "Okay," you opened your eyes and glanced upward at him through your lashes, "I'm ready."
The path seemed to widen as you strode up the cobbled stone, the windows brightened at your approach, and you could faintly see, and hear, Lucien chatting away within the home. He hadn't changed one bit, a blessing really considering what Tamlin could have done to him if he had known that Lucien was the catalyst of your disappearance.
Faltering slightly, you stopped at the door, not knowing whether it was rude or not to just walk in, and Azriel let you decide what would be best. The door vibrated under your curled fist, three curt knocks sounded on the wood, and you took a step back and waited.
Velaris had been shrouded by the heatwave that had drifted up from the Summer Court, the walk to the house was full of visions of ladies fanning themselves and children swimming in the ponds and lakes within the city, ice cream vendors had set up on every corner, but you couldn't stomach a sweet treat, even if it would save you from the searing heat prickling at your skin.
Let's just say that you were glad you had opted for a dress that was lightweight.
The oak door opened to reveal Rhys, he grinned at you, clearly excited for what he was able to witness in that moment. Then, he glanced to Azriel who you saw nod from the corner of your eye, not caring at all about the silent conversation between them as your eyes delved further into the home, expecting to see your former fiancé lingering in the shadows.
"Come in," Rhys spoke, laying a comforting hand on your shoulder.
Azriel stepped forward first, knowing that if he didn't pull you inside that you may bolt from the situation altogether.
Laughter echoed from the next room, that deep joyous sound that you had yearned to hear for too long, "I'm glad to see you," Rhys towered over you, he always had, but you had never found it threatening, you had found it more loving than anything.
The skin around your fingernails was red and sore, you hadn't stopped picking at them all morning despite Azriel's genteel scolding, "He's in there?"
Humming, Rhys moved to your other side and placed a stoic hand on the small of your back, "He is. Would you like to see him?"
Part of you was terrified. What if he didn't recognise you? What if he didn't like what you had become?
The pit in your stomach swirled with tentative excitement but you nodded, a bit too eagerly, a hand resting on your stomach, "Please."
Rhys glanced to Azriel whose gaze hadn't moved from you, ready to whisk you away if you even muttered the desire, and when you looked to the Shadowsinger, with eyes wide and pleading, he moved forward first, concealing your figure behind his wings as he reached for the handle and pushed the door open.
Silence cut through the laughter, tension lingered in the air, and you knew that Azriel was staring Lucien down, and you knew from the sound of rustling leather that the former male had rose to his feet.
Azriel entered, his wings still stretched, wings that would stay that way until you were ready. Rhys squeezed your hand in his and rounded the curve of the wings of his brother, and then you appeared, gently grazing Azriel's hand that he had clasped behind his back; he craned his head over his shoulder and you nodded, and then he lowered them.
Lucien was exactly as you remembered him.
Tall and stoic, russet eyes and the scar that made you alike in more ways than one, the golden freckled skin and the long red hair that was braided over his shoulders. He looked older in a way, which was to be expected, his eyes were heavier, and you couldn't help but feel responsible for some of that.
A smile, a teasing but loving smile tugged on his lips, and you could have sworn you saw his eyes glisten, saw that glisten pool on his bottom lids, "Hello, you."
Voice like honey, smooth and sweet, and you couldn't stop the sob from escaping your lips as he crossed the room and bundled you into his arms. Crackling flames and cinnamon. It ached to smell him, to hold him as his fingers ran through your hair, "You haven't changed at all."
"Let me see you," he cradled your face in his hands, his eyes wandered your face, and a single tear fell down his cheek that you swept up with your thumb, "Look at you," he smiled and swallowed hard, "I'm so proud of you."
Emotion clawed at your face and you couldn't help but cry, it was relief and sadness, the worst part of leaving Spring was leaving him behind to tend to the wolf. Not a day had gone by where you hadn't thought of him.
The last time Lucien had seen you he wasn't sure if you'd make it. You were so frail, the fight within you had vanished, he hadn't seen you smile in months, you were broken and felt no desire to put yourself back together.
"Thank you," you strained, your throat bubbling with sobs, "I would have died there if it wasn't for you. I don't know how to begin thanking you."
Lucien shushed you, "You already have. Look at how far you've come y/n. It was all worth it, like we said, remember?"
How couldn't you remember?
"The wound is the place where the light enters you," you spoke the words in a whisper and Lucien watched your lips form the words he had spoken to you after one rather terrible night, on the night where you had been so close to breaking, so close to ending it all.
Lucien was the one who made you fight, he was the one who gave you hope and muttered words of worth into your ear. Grinning like a feline cat, Lucien finished the sentence for you, he spoke to you the words you used to utter in reply to him, "Light it up, y/n."
The words held a different meaning now, you weren't a broken girl anymore, you weren't the daughter of some Spring Lord or some fiancé to the High Lord himself. The words meant something else entirely, you had shone, you had shone in every place you had went after Spring, you had lit up the world, and you had done that because you had found the strength in your darkest of days to sprout from the earth and grow.
You knew that the room was watching you, but you didn't dare to let the embarrassment worm its way inside of you as you became aware of Elain and Feyre, and of Azriel and Rhys around you.
"Light it up, Lucien."
In that moment, you blissfully forgot about that foreboding message laid bare for you outside of your front door, you pushed it aside to feel the blanket of false safety wrap itself around you. The day turned to night, and you found yourself unmoving from the space between Lucien and Azriel, Nyx had crawled into your lap the moment he had seen you and kicked up a fuss in Nesta's arms.
How foolish of you to believe that you were allowed to be happy. How foolish of you to believe that the blood red shadow rooted deep into the earth of your home was nothing but a paranoid figment of your imagination.
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Author's Note
Sorry again! I hope this was worth the wait x
Taglist
@fxckmiup @sh4nn @acourtofbatboydreams @lilah-asteria @iloveboba777 @lisanna2000 @brieflyclassymortal @thecraziestcrayon @mybestfriendmademe @acourtofmoonlightandstars @5onedirection5
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just-jordie-things · 3 days
Note
really lovvvve toxic ex megumi who can't stop being around you after you're break up. follows you to the parties you attend, meets with you, you both have an argument and then make out. <33
The cycle repeats until you take him back, you might as well anyway, it's not like you can get rid of him<3
godddd toxic ex megumi <3 <3 we'll always go back to uuuu
you see him before he sees you. or at least, he happens to not be looking when your eyes find him in the crowd. it happens too naturally for your taste. instantly there's something bitter in your mouth and you feel your eye begin to twitch.
but you play it off and try not to pay him any attention. you're at a house party, and you already found some eye candy that would much better suit your attention for the time being. would you see him after tonight? no, definitely not. but the more you sip your drink and flutter your lashes at him, the more appealing he becomes. especially now that you-know-who is here.
and who invited him anyways? your mind wanders even as you keep your eyes on the handsome company you forget the name of. all that matters is he's blonde- not a ravenette- and he's got brown eyes -not deep, beautiful ocean blue...- and what were you thinking about again..?
"she has a boyfriend you know"
you have to shut your eyes to regain some false sense of peace. otherwise you would've whirlled around already to try to kick the shins of the 6 foot toxic piece of-
"you do?" your blonde placeholder looks down at you with confusion in his eyebrows. your own expression is unamused, bored, and quite frankly you're not sure who to direct it at at this point.
"she does" megumi confirms. your elbow hits his forearm in warning, but it's not nearly strong enough to get him to back off. he's already made his stance clear in coming straight to you in this crowd of people, and your gut is already telling you that you're going to fall for it.
"i don't, actually," you reply, giving your nameless suitor a sickeningly sweet smile. "in fact, i'd even go as far to say i've never been as single as i am right now"
the blonde man clearly isn't in the state of mind for these games, his eyes shifting between you and megumi, and it's obvious to you both that he's made up his mind before he's even said anything. you don't have to turn around to know that megumi is glaring this sucker down until he cowers out.
and as expected, your once suitor bids you a fast, "well, have a good time!" before turning and booking it away from you and your baggage.
your baggage grins down at you as he takes his place. you huff and shut your eyes again, this time pinching the bridge of your nose as you wrap your half-drunken head around what just happened.
"what the hell do you think you're-"
"you look stunning, by the way,"
megumi cuts you off, he could skip the part where you chew him out for his behavior, it's nothing he hasn't heard before. you try to smack his hand away when his fingers tug at the fabric resting over your hip, but he ignores that too. he's far too interested in watching the short skirt of your dress ride up your thigh when he tugs on it.
"i like this dress," he mumbles out his thoughts, and you should smack him again, but you don't. his knuckles graze your skin and your thoughts start to go blurry. "haven't seen this before"
"well, it's been a month, so..."
your answer is weak and you both know it. you hate that when he looks at you, your heart starts to race. you hate that you know what's coming next, and that if you wanted to badly enough, you could stop it.
because when megumi says, "come with me" and beckons you to follow him, you do without a word. you follow close behind him as he wanders through the crowd before he gets to the patio door, and you stupidly follow him out through it, where you're both alone.
"you can't keep doing this" you say, but it's a mumble, and when you lean into the exterior wall of the house, he's in your space again in a second.
megumi's convinced himself that he's not manipulative, you're just so willing. why else would you wear that dress to a party you knew he'd be at? why else would you follow him somewhere where you could be alone? and you don't exactly push him away when he leans in close and tilts your chin up to bring you even closer. you bat your lashes at him and pout your lips- you're practically begging for it.
"don't be like that baby," he murmurs and you're melting before him. did you leave your drink inside? because now you find your hands empty and you need something to fiddle with or else they're gonna end up in his hair- "missed you, y'know"
you sigh, shutting your eyes and trying to tilt your head away, lean it back into the wall, but megumi's quick to cup his large palm around the back of your head and bring you back towards him.
or into him would be more like it, because his lips are on yours without any other warning.
you move your hands to shove him away, but they have their own will and they end up fisting his tee shirt to pull him in closer until you're so pushed up against the wall that your dress is being dragged up your thighs. the material wants to bunch up at your hips, despite your efforts to keep yourself partially decent, megumi has other ideas in mind when he decides to grab you by the legs and lift you. his hips pin you to the wall again with an ease you're all too used to, and it's around then that you don't care where the state of your dress lies.
he has the nerve to mumble nothings into your mouth as you sloppily meet his lips in every heated kiss. things you've heard too many times,
"see? you missed me too"
"i knew you'd want to get back together"
"we're so good together, baby"
and as you always do, you'll fall for it for however long it lasts this time. because no matter how many times you've broken up, you've never gotten over megumi.
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cannellee · 2 days
Note
Hi. This is about the alpha South x omega x alpha Mikey post for clarity.
Imagine how furious alpha Mikey would be if he found out that alpha South already got omega (name) pregnant.
I think he would go nuts lmao
TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆
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୨୧ alpha! south x omega! reader x yandere!alpha! mikey (read this for more context)
— mikey finds out you're pregnant with south's kid
cw : delusional mikey, violence, slight breeding kink, baby trapping
a/n : btw I don't like yanderes who are violent towards their s/o, so mikey acts sweetly towards reader even though that might not be a representative reaction!! I hope you'll still enjoy!
my masterlist: ☆
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it would definitely not end well for any of you.
while dating south, you were in such a vulnerable state of mind that you got carried away. he showered you with the affection you came to miss and crave when you were with mikey and you honestly didn't give too much thought about what you were doing with south at night...
it wasn't surprising for you to end up the way you did, little bump on your stomach, which you always caressed and touched after you learned the news.
south was fine with having his omega pregnant, only thing which prevented him from being fully happy was his worry for your safety.
now imagine you left mikey's side for more than two months, so that your belly could show a little. you're growing more and more stressed because of south's behaviour, it's suspicious and weird and with your hormones being all over the place, you're feeling even more distressed.
when you follow him and are met with the most unexpected sight, your breathing quickens and your scent couldn't be more sour. you were sensitive before, but now that you were pregnant that's another story.
when you threw yourself on south, all mikey could feel was pure anger and grabbed your arms roughly to pry you off of him.
yes you were fragile, mikey knew that. but when you fell on your side after he simply pushed you away, he flinched at the pained whine you involuntarily let out.
he looked at you, confused and worried. albeit his initial rage, he managed to decipher your scent between all the strong pheromones of all the alphas out there. it was sweet, sugary and very soft. mikey would've recognisable it with no efforts.
but something wasn't right, something was different. you watched as he breathed through his nose, frown deepening at the foreign aroma around you. your strawberry pheromones were all over the place and decoupled, and among it, a nice new smell of pink sugar grazed his nostrils.
it smelled divinely good, but most importantly, it stirred up mikey's instincts in an abnormal way. he felt on edge, protective thoughts circling in his mind. it's like you wanted everyone to be aware of how fragile you were, to have them know you were powerless and in need of reassurance.
and when mikey looked you up and down, that's when he noticed your slightly round belly, a protective hand over it.
wide eyes, mikey took a while before actually understanding what exactly he was seeing, completely shocked. he questioned you with his eyes, hoping you would simply shake your head 'no' and grace him with the answer he wanted to hear. but you didn't and he couldn't feel more enraged.
he furiously looked at south and wasted no time in showering him with punches. all his yelling hurt your poor ears as your hands did nothing at trying to cover the noise.
mikey was unstoppable as he screamed profanities at south, promising him to never let him go unless he was perfectly sure he would never touch you again.
not only did you run away from him and gave yourself to another alpha, but that bastard even had the audacity to get you fucking pregnant. the marks mikey had left on your body months ago were deep enough to surely be still present ; it was a clear indicator that you were somebody else's. anyone would have backed off and refuse to have sex with you. but this asshole just had to ignore all those claims and deliberately court his omega.
mikey was simply blinded with rage as he hit him relentlessly, aiming for south's weak spots, wrecking his limp body as much as he could.
you couldn't muster the courage to move and you had no choice but to witness mikey's terrifying actions. you were still on the floor, silently sobbing because of the more than monstrous scene in front of you.
fortunately, your current state had made your scent more easily detectable so that you could communicate your desires and troubles better with your alpha during such a vulnerable time.
it flew right to mikey's nose, instincts to take care of his omega took over him and he found the control in himself to actually stop his butchery.
you saw mikey whip his head towards you, instantly letting go of south's bruised body. he slowly came up to you, disapproval written all over his face and urge to take you away from here eating him up alive.
he couldn't get his eyes off of your belly when he helped you sit down properly. he didn't know how to feel about this. be mad at you ? get into an argument with you to convey just how fucking furious he was ?
truthfully, you weren't to blame here, mikey thought. you were just a poor omega seeking comfort, south was the one who took advantage of you. he exploited your need for a strong presence next to you when mikey couldn't give you that.
you could've said anything to deny his words, mikey was clearly not admitting that it was a choice you made consciously. his lovely omega would have never betrayed him this much.
amidst the chaos, he couldn't think properly and instead chose to end his fight with south. he had to make sure you were safely taken away from south's greedy hands, in mikey's home where it was definitely the safest for you to stay considering your condition.
you should be cocooned by your alpha inside a warm nest, safe and sound and surrounded by reassuring items. but instead you're out there in the wild, all alone and unsupervised and trying to stop a fight right in the middle of a place crowed with thousands of alphas.
mikey was fuming, absolutely devastated by how poorly you were taken care of and the rage he felt was incomparable to anything he had ever felt.
he knew he would have done a better job at protecting you and while he had that tiny hope the baby inside you was his, at this time it really didn't matter in his eyes.
all he could see was your shaking form, forehead sweating from how much pressure you were under. your alpha was supposed to provide you anything, shelter you and protect you, especially during such a precious moment of pure vulnerability.
but here you were. you couldn't count on anybody and mikey's heart shattered upon seeing your tear-stained face and defenceless arms desperately trying to defend your poor excuse of an alpha.
he carefully carried you away from this place, placing a jacket over you to prevent you from getting sick.
you had no words to say in this situation, you simply had to follow what mikey wanted and considered to be the right thing.
he placed you gently on the soft bed, showering you with his clothes to remove all foreign smells from you. mikey had to claim you again, make sure you were scented from head to toe. this is what good alphas do to soothe their omegas after all!
and this was his priority at the moment. to put you to sleep, get your mind off of south and all the problems he brought to you.
you were easier to manipulate as the hormones of pregnancy made your omega more receptive to the orders and voice of an alpha. you could try and fight off your instincts, mikey still had the upper hand and wouldn't give up until you obeyed and followed what he considered as the best choice right now. you needed rest and that's what you were gonna get.
and the hectic day soon got the best of you that you finally dozed off, calmly breathing in the familiar scent of mikey's sheets.
your sleeping figure helped mikey release a bit of tension, knowing his omega was right where she belonged and that her future pup was in good hands.
all that remained to be done now was to get your stuff back from south's apartment and take care of south himself. there was no way he was gonna let some stranger be the father of your kid. you belonged to mikey and by extension, the child you bore was also his, he wouldn't have it any other way.
he'll go out his way to find south again and prevent him from claiming your child, probably aiming to kill him in the process. mikey was going to be the only support in your life, the only pillar you'll need. he'll be the only one present during your pregnancy, guaranteeing you to never let you feel hurt or scared ever again.
you won't go out again as well, he saw how today affected you and quickly understood it was all too much for your poor little pregnant omega heart. too sensitive and emotional...
mikey will force you to stay still, waiting at home for him until you finally give birth. his instincts are so strong and overwhelming, he'll enter a blind rage if his omega isn't cocooned in the warmth and safety of her nest, in her alpha's home.
he's actually somehow glad you got pregnant, although he would have preferred to be the biological father. but now he has a great excuse to keep you by his side. he exploits your weaknesses and lack of financial support to insert himself into your life for good. he scares you into thinking you need him to keep you safe, that alphas will rush to hurt you once they learn you're this helpless and trying to raise a kid on your own.
he'll definitely get you pregnant soon after you give birth, wanting a kid of his own blood. he's so deep into a possessive state of mind that he wants nothing more than to see you all cutely waddle around the house because of the seeds he put into you. he wants to claim you in the most primal way. his intentions are mostly triggered by your past with south but also because he feels like baby trapping you is the most efficient way to keep you right next to him.
in the end, mikey's commitment towards you will grow significantly in the future. once south is disposed of, he'll purely focus on you, knowing nothing will ever get in between the two of you ever again.
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elismor · 3 days
Text
I see a lot of posts going by about comments and kudos and hits and...well... I've been thinking about the three quite a lot lately--as both a fic author and someone who spends a lot of my professional life looking at web metrics and determining which are actually important/accurate measures of user engagement.
Mileage varies, of course. And this is all just MY opinion, so do feel free to ignore it wholesale.
What I think when I see someone say that sorting by a hits to to kudos ratio is a good way to find "good" fic:
Hits are a measure of quantity (how many times your story or art has been viewed), but without knowing how AO3 defines a hit, it's actually kind of a meaningless number.  We know that our own views of our work do not count toward hits, but...if my BFF looks at my story 7 times in one day because she keeps trying to read it but getting interrupted...is that one hit, or seven? And if it's seven, then the numbers are artificially inflated because it's really just Bestie trying to get her Codex fix. And...if Bestie looks at it three times today and four tomorrow...is that 7 hits total, or two? 
Some transparency on the part of AO3 could clear this up handily, but until we get that...shrug. All it is is a number that may or may not be an accurate reflection of how many actual people looked at the page your fic is on.  Did they READ it? Or did they nope out?  No way to know.
Kudos are intended to be slightly more qualitative, but there is no way of knowing why the reader gave them. (Similar to likes here on tumblr.) It might be that they loved the piece. It might be a simple acknowledgement that the reader was there. It might even be a pity kudo. We have no way of knowing. It's, again, just a number.
Obviously, everyone is free to interpret both hits and kudos as positive reaction/interaction. I might do that myself if I didn't spend my workdays explaining to people that 50,000 "hits" to the website could be 50K people who came to learn about us or...simply the result of the computer labs on campus having the university homepage set to default.
Bigger numbers are just that....bigger numbers.
Comments are the only objective way to judge how someone is reacting to your fic or art.
So, what then? Sort by number of comments?
You can do that, sure. (I think. I confess I have never once gotten the AO3 search to work as well as people rave about.) But do keep in mind that many authors answer their comments. So, something with, say, 20 comments may be 20 people telling the author they loved it. Or it might be ten people and ten author-replies. OR, it might be three people having a conversation in the comments. You have to look and see.  
Bigger numbers are just bigger numbers.
Okay, fine Elis. What am I supposed to do then?
Look, I'm not your mother or your therapist and you are free to assign whatever meanings you like to these things. I, personally, find "good" fic through a combination of things including: recs, the fandom grapevine, dumb luck, events, and just...reading some of it and not feeling guilty if I nope out for some reason.
This all sounds a little depressing when laid out like this, huh? Especially when you take into account the downward trends in interacting and the rise of folks treating fic and art as content to be consumed. 
Here's what I have learned from writing fic for 30 years (well, 28 and counting):
As an author (and an artist, I would presume), you have absolutely no way of predicting which of your work will land and take hold and which will not. It's alchemy and luck and the weird (and not actual) algorithm of fandom. Sometimes, the piece you whipped out in 30 minutes and posted on the fly will land in the right person's inbox and they will share it and their friends will share it and it will get big.  Sometimes, the piece you slaved over for weeks and weeks will do that...sometimes it won't.  Sometimes your genius manifests and resonates, sometimes it does not.
My personal favorite fic of my own--the one I think is probably the best thing I have done in SW fandom-- has like 8 kudos and 4 comments (2 of which are my responses). Is it disappointing? Yes. Is it an indication that the fic is objectively "bad"? No.
The mercenary in me suggests that if you want to get lots of comments and kudos, you should pick the pairing that is THE pairing in the fandom and write for that--because that's where the eyeballs are, because that's where the connections are.  But that is not why I write, so it's just that--a very mercenary way of looking at things. Not that there is anything WRONG with doing it that way. Supply and demand run the world. If the people want Codywan and you want the people....give them Codywan. No shame in that.
And there is no shame in wanting or seeking validation for your work, either.
But it breaks my heart to see authors (and artists) give up on themselves when they do not receive piles of kudos and comments. It's not you. It's...the luck of the draw. It's...fandom. It's...an artificial and murky set of measurements that have almost no basis in anything meaningful.
Keep writing. Keep drawing. Keep sharing. You are what you make, not how people respond to it.
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mydollish · 2 days
Note
Hi!! I already love your account, hon!! 🎀 🎀
But if your taking reqs right now, could I ask for cockwarming Price? I think that would fix something inside of me right now 🦢
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you have me HOOKED
also, thank you sm for liking the acc!!! i’ve been doing state tests all week and have no brain power to write anything down.
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listen, price is an ass man. he would do anything to see and touch your ass.
so when he finds out that you would like to sit on his cock and do nothing? he would die of happiness.
it became an obsession.
he would do it anywhere, anytime. he doesn’t care if your parents are over or if he’s at work. if you are with him and you guys are in the room alone, he’s sitting you on that cock.
(im not saying he wouldn’t fuck you like his life depends on it afterwards)
one time, he forgot his lunch at home. you remembered he was having a rough time at work so you brought him his lunch. innocent enough right?
but when price saw you in your tight shirt and skirt, he went wild.
you knew it, you saw it in his eyes. his blown pupils and disheveled hair was a clear sign that you were going to be there his whole lunch break.
immediately, almost in a trance, he locked the door and sat down in his chair. he quickly unbuckled his pants and grabbed your hand to pull you down with him.
“shush.” is the only word that comes out of his mouths as you gasp and whimper. he just sits there for a while, kissing and leaning his head on your shoulder.
after about 10 minutes, his phone rang. he groaned and put a finger in your mouth.
“shush doll.” he whispers and answers. the person and him talk quietly for a few minutes before price hangs up.
“good girl. now when i come home, you better be on that bed.”
his words were gruff and sounded almost animalistic. all you could do is nod your head and slowly slip off with a whimper.
he quickly kissed you and slapped your ass before opening the door for you.
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weneeya · 1 day
Note
Another request 👉🏼👈🏼
Depressed geto × reader , Their first meeting and their attraction to each other, and how geto finally felt like he could breathe after he felt happy with her and fell in love with her.
Saving his life
comfort with Geto
thank you for your request!! I'll try my best then <3 requests are open :)
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The last few days, or even weeks, were pretty hard for Geto Suguru. Since the incident with his best friend and their mission, Suguru hasn't been the same. He was clearly overthinking all the time, and getting out was a real difficulty for him. He was doing the bare minimum, when he was able to. Depression was hitting hard, even if he refused to admit it. 
He was outside today, as he had to do some groceries. Nothing too much, but it was a necessity. Long black hair running down his shoulders, and visible dark circles under his eyes ; no one would dare even approach him like this. No one except you. 
He was in front of a display, looking for something, when he heard someone clear his throat. You were right behind him, with this soft look on his face, all shy at the idea of talking to him. You looked away, playing nervously with the handle of your bag. 
“Excuse me, can you help me, please? I need this, up there, but I can’t reach it,” you said, pointing out the thing on the top shelf. He looked at it, before looking back at you. He stayed silent, before grabbing the said thing, and giving it to you. A smile appeared on your lips, before you let his gaze again. 
“Thank you!” You told him, before slightly waving at him. In those words, you left to go back to doing your own groceries. He stayed there for a few moments before a soft smile left his lips, going back to what he was doing. 
After this, you met each other a few times. It was like fate wanted you to meet again and again. It was in random situations, and soon or later he learned your name. He wasn’t really in the mood  to meet anyone, or even to let anyone come into his life ; but you were so sweet, all the time. 
You were like a ray of light in the dark hell of his mind. You were constantly the only positive thing that happened in his day every time he was meeting you. You were just here, with your bright smile and your soft voice. No matter how bad he felt, it was always better when you were here. 
He wasn’t so sure about how he felt about you. It was a bit messy in his head because he was so lost with himself and his own emotions. But after some time, he started to see you voluntarily. In fact, he was asking you out for dates, but he wouldn’t admit it. He wasn’t ready to even think about a relationship right now. 
But you were, and you knew that you started to like him. Suguru was a man who was getting killed slowly by his own mind, and you didn’t want to let him stay in this hell alone. You wanted to help him, and he was willing to let you do it, then you would. 
Day after day, you were growing closer to each other. And finally, Suguru started to realize how he felt towards you. You were a new breath in his life, and he knew that he couldn’t get out of this alone. He needed help, and letting you get into his life would probably be the first step for this. This is why he decided to speak to you about it. 
He called you, asking you to join him in his own apartment, which you did without hesitation. You were a bit worried about him, because he wasn’t really letting you in too frequently. Something inside of you was telling you that something happened. You were glad to see that you were wrong. 
Suguru offered to come sit on the couch with him, and you did without saying anything. Both of you stayed silent for a few moments, before he broke it. He sighed slowly, before massaging his temples. He looked at you, hesitating for some time. 
“I wanted to thank you. You’re helping me, probably more than you would think, and I needed to say thank you,” he started, and you were ready to answer when he stopped you by raising his hand a little. “Let me finish, please.” 
You nodded slowly, and he pursued his words. “I think I’m ready to get some help, for real I mean. But I can’t do this alone. And…” He sighed one more time, rubbing his cheek as he was searching for his words. “What I’m trying to say is that I would love to have you in my life. More than this, I mean.” 
You looked at him without saying anything, processing what he had just said. You weren’t so sure of what he meant, or at least you were scared that you understood it wrong. You were looking into his eyes, before you finally answered. “Are you… asking me out?” 
He looked away, and you could see a hint of a blush over his cheeks. You took it as a yes, and a soft smile appeared on your lips. You slowly grabbed his hands, making him look back at you. “I’d love that, Suguru.” 
This time, it was his turn to process your words. He hoped with everything that you would say yes, but a part of him was scared that he would make you run away. And as you were ready to say something, he simply took your face between his hands to kiss you like his life was depending on it. 
It was only the first step, but he knew that with you in his life, nothing could go wrong.
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hope you liked it!! I've done my best, sorry if it's not perfect :(
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is it possible to request da vagastrom ghouls + jin and luca and their reactions when someone makes their s/o cry (preferably romantic if that’s okie) i would really love to see ur ideas on this!
Ooooh! I love this one! Thank you for sending in a request!
ALAN MIDO
Alan is VERY protective of his partner. It doesn't matter if they could kick his ass in a fight, he is protective. The second he catches wind of his MC crying for ANY reason, he drops his tools and goes RUNNING to them (like my mans is SPRINTING).
He first and foremost makes sure that MC is physically okay before getting to what happenedm He's not the best at comfort so he starts by using his size and reputation to get info from any witnesses.
It actually manages to work somehow and as soon as he gets his hands on the jackass who made them cry. Its straight to the pit to make an example of them.
When the two of them are alone at last. He does his best to try and comfort them, but like I said he's not the best with that stuff. So the best is an awkward hug, a listening ear, and him trying very hard to find and play a YouTube video to make them feel better....but very they have to help him with it.
SHOHEI HAIZONO "SHO"
He heard from Leo that MC was caught crying while he was cooking and for once, he quickly made sure that there was no chance of a fire, and stops in the middle of his cooking to go find MC.
Sho, on the other side of things, kicks ass before anything else. He's dragging the dumbass to the pit and kicks the shit out of him. Sho doesn't hold back like Alan does. It was an clear win from the get go, so the Sho betters in the pit were taking candy from babies.
After wiping the floor with the dipshit, he runs back to MC, gently taking their hands and lead them right back to the Vagastrom kitchen. He sets aside whatever he was cooking beforehand and asked what they wanted to eat.
He won't take no for an answer, and it doesn't matter if he doesn't have the ingredients. He will take them out on Bonnie to get their mind off of things. When he has everything he needs, he'll make whatever they want to eat.
If they want they want to, he'll even try his hand at baking. With their help of course, but he's more of a cook than a baker. Anything to help his MC feel better
LEO KUROSAGI
Oh HELL no! They're done. Absolutely destroyed. No not physically, Leo doesn't fight.
But word gets around quickly, especially on the social medias but Leo waits for MC to come to him. In the meantime, he finds as much dirt as possible on whoever the hell was there.
He's looking at security cams, wickchat posts, tiktoks, etc. It takes him at MOST half an hour to find who fucked up. And another half hour to find out some pretty juicy dirt on whoever it is.
He used an alt account to leak said juicy dirt by the time MC came to him. When they do, he lets MC cuddle up to him and doomscroll tiktok with him, filtering out anything about what happened and focusing on animal and funny tiktoks.
JIN KAMURAI
This is another who would wait for MC to come to him. But if they take too long he's sending either a text or Tohma to go bring them to him
He actually sends Tohma to get details on what happened as soon as he can. Tohma being Tohma, gets all the details that Jin needs.
Jin looks for things he can use to make that person's life a living hell. Assuming they're a student, he uses his connections to get them all the way down to probation.
And te thing about Jin is, his lasts. He makes an example of this person for MONTHS or at least as long as he can get away with it.
As for what he does with MC when they're crying. I think he takes them to his room and puts down the tough guy act for once. He'll give them a little forehead kiss and talks all nice and quiet with reassuring words, but just this once. (That a bald faced lie, he's just too stubborn to admit he's soft for his partner)
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television-overload · 7 hours
Text
of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Oh hey, look, it's that massive story I've been working on since January! I'm so thankful to everyone who has shown interest in the concept of this fic and the little snippets I've posted. You've been more help than you know. Without that support, I don't think this would have ever gotten finished.
A special thanks to @numinousmysteries who kindly beta read for me and did a fantastic job. I wanted to make sure I got this right, and she was a great help!
And now I can't wait to share this with you all! New chapters posted daily!
[Read on AO3]
Chapter 1 /33 - ink and paper
How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.
She'd never have guessed...
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Find out if adoption is right for you! Visit us at 8080 Meadowlark Ln. Annapolis, MD “A Home for Every Child!”
Scully stares down at the brochure on the desk. One of many, which are half buried underneath a pile of paperwork from their current case. Certain words and phrases are circled in pen, underlined, annotated in the margins in the familiar scrawl she knows almost better than her own.
stability – less travel? change in division? discuss with Scully
loving home – ask Frohike for real estate agent #
The word “family” is circled three times.
She swallows with some difficulty, finding—to her dismay—that her hands are shaking. Mulder will be arriving any second, and here she is, frozen like a statue.
How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.
She’d never have guessed…
“Morning, partner,” his voice calls out, and she jolts in surprise. She hears the door snick shut behind him, but she can’t bring herself to turn around. With deft fingers, she pushes the brochure back under the stack of papers where she found it, only the colorful corner of the page visible.
“Morning, Mulder,” she tries, clearing her throat. It comes out strained, but she hopes he doesn’t notice. She hides her trembling hands in her lap under the desk.
He looks down at her, half amused, half concerned. “You okay? You're not getting that stomach bug that's been going around, are you?”
“I'm fine,” she answers defensively, warning him to back off. She grabs a file off the desk in front of her with a little more force than necessary, plopping it open.
‘Okayyy,’ he mouths exaggeratedly, eyebrows raised. He sits down at his desk and leafs through some papers sitting on top, arranging them into neater stacks. When he uncovers the brochures, his eyes widen and he clears his throat, hurriedly covering them with other papers and trying to act natural.
Scully thinks about letting it go and pretending she doesn’t know what he’s hiding, but she knows she won’t be able to sleep until she finds out what’s been going on in that ridiculous head of his. 
She idly flips to the next page of the file in her hand, displaying a confidence she doesn’t feel in the firm set of her shoulders
“Doing some light reading, Mulder?” she asks, attempting to look disinterested.
His head shoots up, a look of alarm on his face. For a second he thinks she might be talking about something else, that she couldn’t possibly know, but one look at her throws that theory right out the window. He glances back and forth between her and the papers on the desk a few times before dropping his shoulders in defeat.
“I’m sorry, Scully, you weren’t supposed to see those,” he says, shuffling all the brochures into a pile while carefully avoiding eye contact. “I was working here late last night. I must have forgotten to put them away.” As he speaks, he opens the top drawer of his desk and shoves them inside, then takes a seat at his desk. His nose is buried in a file before she can even respond.
She watches him now. He is a curiosity, determinedly feigning concentration on a case she knows he finds disinteresting and a waste of time.
Typical.
“You're really not going to say anything?” she asks, arms crossed in front of her.
That rankles him. “What do you want me to say?” he asks, indignation boiling below the surface.
She looks at him incredulously, the file in front of her all but forgotten.
“You're thinking of adoption? When were you planning to share this with me?”
He sighs and shakes his head, pleading silently with her. “It's too soon, Scully. I didn't think you'd want to hear it yet.”
“But you're looking into it because…”
“It's just been on my mind, that's all.”
She stares at him, brows furrowed.
“Since when?”
Since when… Images flash of a life he didn’t recognize. His sister, alive and grown up. A quiet suburban neighborhood. Cancer Man living just down the street. A wife and kids, but not the right ones. It was wrong, all of it was wrong.
“A hallucinatory trip into an alternate universe tends to make you think,” he answers simply.
He’s looking at her now, deadly serious despite the joking tone. She doesn’t respond. Can’t respond.
“I'm sorry, I didn't want to bring all this up,” he continues. “I know it's a sore spot for you.”
It takes her a moment to conjure words from her mouth, her lips moving but no sound coming out. “I just wasn't expecting…”
“For all I know, this isn't even something you'd want.”
What does she say to that? Is she interested? 
“I– I'm not sure. I've never really considered it before.”
He waits, his eyes assessing her for some hidden meaning, some insight into her state of mind. He gets nothing. She’s totally blank.
“Well… what do you want?” He thought the question was innocuous enough, safer territory than straight up asking her if she wants to adopt, but apparently not.
She shuts her folder, abruptly standing and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I'm going back to the crime scene,” she declares, changing the subject. “I want to see if there's anything we missed.”
“Scully…” he tries.
“Not now, Mulder.” Without even taking the time to put her coat on, she flees, leaving the door partially open in her rush to get away. Cursing under his breath, Mulder grabs his coat from its hook and hurries after her.
The elevator doors are almost all the way closed by the time he catches up, but in this case, he figures it’s worth the potential loss of a limb. He throws his hand between the closing gap in the metal doors, and it bounces back open to allow him entrance, to the extreme displeasure of one Dana Scully. He wisely stays silent in the elevator, stealing glances at her every few seconds out of the corner of his eye as they ascend. He can feel the frigid air coming off her in waves. It’s been a while since he’s seen her this annoyed with him, this eager to get away.
He won’t let her. Not this time. He’s learned from his mistakes.
In the parking garage, she's walking briskly, heels clicking on the concrete, and he has to pick up the pace to keep up with surprisingly agile little legs.
He didn’t want this confrontation. There was a reason he was keeping his research a secret. This is exactly what he was hoping to avoid, at least until the time was right to carefully drop some hints here and there. But now? There’s no carefully about it. No option to wait and let this blow over. There’s only one way out of this at this point, and unfortunately, that way is through.
He picks up the pace.
“You're the one who brought this up, Scully, I was perfectly happy throwing those brochures in my drawer and not saying a word.” 
His voice echoes in the concrete parking structure, sounding harsh even to his own ears. As frustrated as he is with her, that isn’t his intent. He only wants to know what he can do to help her, how he can help her fulfill her dreams. He lets out a breath, and with it, releases his selfish frustration. She’s still walking away at a breakneck pace, and he doesn’t know how he can get her to stop and face this. 
“If you want to talk about it, let's talk about it,” he says, pleading. “I can't help you if I don't know what you want. You want me to shut up, never mention the subject again?” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air, “Fine, just tell me. What do you want, Scully?”
“I just want to be a mom, okay?” she yells, whirling around to face him. Her words instantly silence him, and he watches stone-faced as tears spring in her eyes. “I see all these other moms out there and think… I could do that too. Why can’t I do that too?”
Well, mission accomplished. The truth is finally out there. Part of him feels bad for pushing her, but the other part knows that it was doing her no good to keep her feelings bottled up inside to deal with by herself. He reaches out a hand, intending to comfort her, his eyes softening in sympathy. 
“You could. Scully, you’d be the best mom.”
She flinches away, stepping out of his reach. “You don’t know that, Mulder. I can’t even—even my body is even telling me no. Over and over.” She resumes her brisk walk to her car, and he thinks he sees her brush angrily at her face, no doubt wiping away the evidence of the stubborn tears that have managed to escape.
He rushes to get in front of her, walking backwards so he can keep her in his sight. 
“When has that ever stopped you?” he asks. “You had cancer, and you kept fighting. You’re alive today because you refused to give up when your body quit on you. What about that?” He stops abruptly, forcing her to come to a halt before she crashes into him.
There’s no way out of this, is there? Her shoulders slump in defeat.
“You saved me, Mulder,” she admits quietly, shaking her head. “You’re the one who didn’t give up. Not me. It was only because you were with me that I survived.”
This time, when she goes to walk away, he stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder. The simple touch causes her to freeze, hardly breathing, and when he steps closer, she stays. His hands slide down her shoulders, holding her securely in place to ensure that his next words come through loud and clear.
“I’m gonna be with you here on this too, I promise.” His thumbs brush back and forth on the fabric of her sleeves, for his comfort or hers, she’s not sure. “You can still be a mother, Scully. I’ll help you.”
She shakes her head, her heart feeling like it has been ripped to shreds. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He gives her a little shake for emphasis. She still won’t look at him. “You’ve kept me alive all these years, how much harder could a baby be?”
That gets a breathy chuckle from her, and her head falls to her chest. Groaning with the agony of this burden on her heart, she stops fighting it and leans into him. Without hesitation, he wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his embrace.
Her hand comes up to find purchase on his suit jacket, relishing in the comfort only he can provide. She’s past caring if anyone sees them like this here. Let them talk. They already do, anyway.
“Well, at least when you wake me up in the middle of the night, you’re not crying,” she speaks into his chest.
She feels him shrug, and can almost see the goofy smile she knows she put on his lips.
“Usually.”
She looks up at him with her chin on his sternum before taking a deep breath and pulling away.
“It's raining,” he says softly, glancing down at her and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “We can go back to the crime scene later.” She nods, unsure what else to say. She allows herself to be led, his ever-present hand brushing against her back as they start toward the basement.
“Adoption,” Scully mutters to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t know, Mulder. This—this is different than IVF. With that, all I was asking for was your…” her eyes dart around, looking anywhere but at him, “genetic material. This is something entirely different.”
He’s pleased she’s at least considering it, but she doesn’t get it at all, if that’s what she thinks.
“How? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, the process of getting a baby is a little different, but in the long run, the result is the same.”
She pauses, looking at him in confusion. “What– what are you saying?”
He runs a hand awkwardly through his hair, suddenly taking a unique interest in his shoes and the floor of the parking structure.
“Yeah, we probably should have talked about this before…”
“Talked about what?”
He sighs and guides her into a stairwell. It’s stuffy and poorly-lit with a flickering lightbulb, but here, there’s less of a chance they’ll be overheard.
“Look, Scully, I don’t know what you had in mind for my involvement beyond contributing to half the baby’s DNA when you first asked me to help you get pregnant,” he starts, fighting hard to meet her eyes instead of shying away. “But, I– I had hoped it would be a little more than ‘Say hi to Uncle Mulder,’ every couple of months.”
She blinks back at him, speechless.
“I’m sorry if that’s overstepping, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable with all this, I just—” He takes in a breath. “I guess I got to thinking of what it might be like to have a family again.” His bout of honesty is met with a blank stare, and his nervous smile drops. “I completely misread the situation, didn’t I?” he asks, self-loathing waiting on standby. “Got ahead of myself…”
She stops him by catching his coat sleeve. “No—uh. No, you didn’t.” She collects herself, willing herself to offer him some reassurance. Her fingers release the fabric of his coat, shifting her grasp instead to his hand. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”
He glances down at where she holds tightly to him, and his lips curl into some semblance of a smile.
“I guess they might have had a point with all those communication seminars we’ve skipped, huh?”
She chuckles softly.
“I don’t think this is exactly what they had in mind…”
With a gentle tug, Mulder leads her down the stairs, committed to holding her hand as long as she’ll let him. The air is stagnant and silent, only the rhythmic echo of their shoes clicking on the concrete steps as they make their way to the bottom floor.
She’s thinking. What she knows now, it changes everything. 
She had asked him to leave. Hid her grief from him as much as possible after her initial lapse into weakness when she came home with the news. She had almost kissed him, then, unsure of what else she had to live for. She knew she was hurting him by folding inward on herself in the weeks that followed, but that didn’t stop her from doing it. She was in a dark place, hardly able to see what was right in front of her. What she couldn’t see was that his hurt wasn’t just for her, born of some misguided sense of guilt or pity. It was his own, too.
“Mulder, all those months, after it failed—” There’s something like fear in her voice as she utters these words, or maybe regret.
“I was just worried about you.”
She squeezes his hand, feeling tears well in her eyes once more. “No, you were grieving like I was, and I didn’t notice. I pushed you away…”
“Dana…” He turns, a couple steps ahead of her, so for once it’s him who has to look up to meet her eyes. Her lip wobbles as she looks down at him, and he brushes his thumb tenderly over her knuckles. “You had to deal with it on your own, I understood that. I don’t blame you for anything.”
Those eyes. So open and honest and sad. She wonders how anyone could hurt him, could bear to break this man’s heart. How could she? 
Choking back a sob, she falls into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding tight. His arms encircle her back, supporting her weight, and she feels herself being lifted as he goes up a step, closing the distance between them.
His hand climbs up to the back of her head, stroking her hair soothingly.
“I just wanted to be there for you,” he mumbles into her neck.
“You were, Mulder,” she gasps between bouts of tears, finding comfort in the feel of his soft hair between her fingers. “You’ve always been there.”
He pulls back, lifting his hands to cup her face and wiping away the tears he finds there with the pads of his thumbs. 
“You don’t have to give an answer now,” he says, reassuring, “This is… a big commitment, I know, and I don’t want you to say yes just because I suggested it. I just wanted you to know it’s an option, and if you want to have a baby, I’m in. However you want to go about it, I’ll be as involved as you want. Just– let me know, anytime. Okay?”
He’s looking at her now, head ducked so those sad, puppy-dog eyes can get his message across.
She nods, holding tight to the wrists that so tenderly cup her face.
“Okay.”
~~~
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yanderes-galore · 2 days
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Sure! Bit rusty on Beastars but let me see what I got :) Darling is most likely an herbivore in this, but it's vague.
Prompts Here
Yandere! Legoshi Prompts 2, 18, 24
“I want to repay you for how happy you make me.”
“I wouldn’t ever hurt you. Everyone else, on the other hand…”
“Love can’t even begin to describe what I feel for you.”
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Mature themes, Slight intimacy, Blood, Violence mentioned/implied, Clingy behavior, Fear of loss, Dubious touching/kissing, Dubious relationship.
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The atmosphere of the hotel room is tense. Both of you roam the room, trying to get comfortable after previous events. After all... You were recently saved by Legoshi.
Your mind keeps flashing to when you were captured by the Shishigumi. Just when you felt you'd die to the lions, Legoshi came bursting in with bloodlust in his eyes. You considered Legoshi a friend... But you never thought he'd save you.
Poor you was oblivious to the reasons behind your rescue.
By the end of it, Legoshi held you in a tight embrace. The sudden hug was surprising... But welcomed. Although you could tell Legoshi ran out of adrenaline when he slumped in your arms.
Afterwards, when you helped him up, you ate together and found somewhere to stay for the night. A Love Hotel wasn't ideal... Yet it was somewhere you both could stay. You could tell even Legoshi was nervous as he entered the room.
You pitied how he looked... The wolf covered in blood and bruises from when he tore into the lions. You frowned slightly, noticing how out of it Legoshi looked. You finally sit on the bed, seeing how Legoshi just seems to stare.
"Are... You tired, Legoshi?" You ask, the wolf perking up at your words. His gaze softens... The reality of the situation setting in. He... He almost lost you...
His heart rate picks up at the thought.
"Tired?" Legoshi echoes back to you, trying to think clearly. "A little, I guess... Are you sure we should be sleeping in the same bed...? After everything that has happened?"
"We'll be fine for one night, right? Not like we can use the train now..." You sigh, gesturing to the bathroom. "How about you wash your clothes and recover? You... We've been through a lot."
Legoshi snaps out of his thoughts enough to head to the bathroom and wash his clothes. As he checks himself in the mirror, he can't help but worry. He really did almost lose you... Before he even got to say how he felt...
Should he change that... Tonight?
You notice Legoshi looks nervous and distant when he returns, sitting on the bed with his ears back. You look at him concerned when he glances at you, face tinted pink. You sit up to face him.
"Hey... I'm sorry you got yourself hurt for me." You whisper, looking at his black eye. Legoshi turns his full attention to you before heaving a sigh.
"It's okay, I did it for you." Legoshi answers, smiling softly at the thought "Plus..." The wolf leans closer, catching you by surprise.
“I wanted to repay you for how happy you make me.”
Your eyes widen in surprise at what he says. Legoshi gives you a dreamy look as he watches you. You... You make him feel conflicted... Yet he's always happy around you.
"Legoshi... There's no need to repay me for being kind. If anything, I should repay you...." Your voice comes out in a murmur. Legoshi's ears flick, it's clear he heard what you said. Even more so when he leans closer with his tail swaying.
"You're so important to me..." Legoshi whispers softly, nose sniffing at you as his eyes dilate. "I-I just wish I knew how to properly show it."
You yelp softly when he pulls you into his chest. You sink into his toned torso, heart hammering at the sudden contact. You then feel Legoshi's head lay on your shoulder, tail wagging.
"I want you to count on me to protect you." Legoshi admits, grip tighter than he means to be. “I wouldn’t ever hurt you. Everyone else, on the other hand…”
You notice the change of tone in Legoshi's voice. Your ears pick up on the subtle growl in his throat and you... Don't feel all that safe anymore. You keep your worries to yourself as the wolf nuzzles into you.
"I got so scared when I learned you were missing..." Legoshi sighs, claws trailing patterns on your stomach. "I... I just had to go find you... because I... Well, I love you...."
You perk at his confession, shaking in his arms as he holds you. Having a wolf like him love you... well... it could be dangerous. You've seen what he can do. The thought is flattering...
But you can tell his affections aren't normal if he's so hostile towards others.
"Actually," Legoshi continues, turning you around so you're looking at him before he gently pushes you down on the bed. “Love can’t even begin to describe what I feel for you.”
You stare at the wolf above you. The purple light illuminates him in a soft glow... You can see a sinister look in his gaze. Your heart beats fast... Not quite out of love... But out of fear.
"I can't get you out of my head..." Legoshi confesses. "I think of you more than I'd like to admit and... I don't want to lose you. I want you to know I'm obsessed with you and about you..."
The wolf leans closer, cupping your face with a large clawed hand. Before you know it he leans in and kisses you softly. You don't fight it... be that because you secretly wanted it... or were too scared to push away. By the end of it, Legoshi pulls away with a small pant.
He's always wanted to do that.
"I want you to know I'll always be here to protect you... No matter what happens... I'll always be yours." Legoshi smiles and you stare at his fangs. You realize you need to calm down... You don't want to think of this right now.
Will he really hurt those around you? Was it just a "heat of the moment" kind of thing?
"Legoshi..." You call, seeing the wolf perk up again. You gently stroke his cheek and the wolf leans into the touch with a sigh. "I... I need to shower then I'm heading to bed."
"Is that what you want?" Legoshi tilts his head while sitting up. "We... We don't have to do anything else if you don't want to, Of course!"
"I'm tired and you still need to heal." You admit, sitting up properly to release yourself from the wolf. "Let's... Discuss this another time?"
You see the wolf's ear pin down for a moment before he nods. Perhaps he is moving too fast with you. That's okay... He can wait.
"Sure... Have a nice shower." He looks away, allowing you to leave. As you both part, you both wonder what this means for the both of you.
Will this make you both happy...?
Or will you and those around you just get hurt in the process of Legoshi's fantasies.
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prettys0bbing · 3 hours
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just read ur gymcrush!rafe jerking off blurb… all i can think about is steamy sauna sex with rafe now 😔
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
“is it okay if i join you?” you ask him gently, holding a towel around yourself while giving him the shy smile he loves so much. “huh?” he responds, not wanting to make his previous actions obvious. you point to a spot on the bench next to him, tilting your head to the side. he clears his throat and nods, gaining his composure back. you sit next to him, loosening your grip around the towel and letting it loosely hang around you. “it really does get hot fast doesn’t it?” you point out, trying your best to fill the silence.
rafe snaps himself out of staring at the peek of your chest that he’s getting to answer you. “it’s a sauna, that’s its job.” he says flatly, before noticing how your face falls. you move a little further on the bench, leaning back to stretch your arm out before wincing. “you okay?” he asks immediately. “yeah i think so. i just fucked my shoulder a little bit i think.” you say, reaching a hand behind your back to rub your shoulder. “let me see.” you look at him shocked for a moment, before turning your back to him and moving your hair out of the way. “lemme know if i go too hard.” he mumbles, placing one of his hands on your shoulder blade.
as rafe starts to give you a massage, you can feel the tension leaving your muscle. his fingers dig a little deeper into your body and you let out a soft moan. rafe freezes immediately, replaying the sound over and over in his mind. “are you done?” you ask softly, no clue what’s going on with him. he shakes his head before continuing his movements. “you uh- you distracted me.” he admits, enjoying the way your skin feels underneath his fingers. you giggle softly, looking up at him with doe eyes. “your hands feel really nice.”
“yeah?” rafe grunts, already struggling to keep his cool while watching your towel loosen from around your body. after a few moments, it begins to unravel before you catch it. “is it okay if i just take this off for a minute? i don’t want it to get in your way at all. “im not gonna complain.” he admits, leaning on one of his hands as he watches you. you blush slightly, placing the towel next to you and leaving you in just your undergarments. you turn to face him, tilting your head to the side as you watch his eyes drink in your body. “see something you like?” you joke, trying to stop the heat rising in your body. “yeah, all of it.” rafe moves closer to you as he speaks, not stopping until he’s right next to you. “you know what you’re doing don’t you? you want me just as much as i want you.” he teases, watching the way your thighs squeeze together as he speaks.
“no clue what you’re talking about.” you lie, breath hitching as his hand lightly traces over your thigh. “yea? so you don’t want me to touch you?” he asks, taking his hand away. before he can fully move away, you grab his hand. “maybe..i do want you. if i did, what would happen?” you look at him, still slightly nervous and in disbelief. “if you did, id open these pretty legs and check how wet you are for me. then id play with your pussy, letting you know just how good i am. and then id take you right here to make sure i live up to all your fantasies.” he whispers, trailing his fingers along a wet spot on your underwear.
you shudder, feeling the slight pressure he’s using. he looks at you while hooking a finger underneath the band of your panties and you nod. he pulls them down with a swift motion before using two of his fingers to swipe along your slit. “so fuckin wet for me. you really want it huh?” he teases, leaning you back along the bench as he spreads you out and watches you clench around nothing. rafe uses his thumb and presses light circles into your clit, watching how you begin to squirm underneath him. without stopping, he slips one of his fingers into you, sliding in effortlessly and making you arch your back at the intrusion. he adds another one before he begins slowly pumping his hand into you, causing you to whine loudly. “gonna have to be quieter than that baby.” he teases, speeding his movements up.
“fuck rafe, i need more of you.” you beg, grabbing onto the bench as his thumb presses into you harder. “all you had to do was ask.” he grants your wish, thrusting into you harder as he curls his fingers up slightly. he palms himself through his underwear, his towel long abandoned on the floor. he can feel you clenching around his fingers, squeezing him tightly. “that feel good huh? you like that?” he asks in a teasing tone, loving the way you react. he can feel you getting close and pulls his hand out, ignoring your complaints as he taps his fingers on your mouth, signaling for you to open up. you listen, opening your mouth and letting him shove his fingers into your tongue.
you lick his fingers clean while he uses his free hand to pull his underwear down. rafe wraps his hand around his cock, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and steadying himself by grabbing onto your hip as he lines himself up with your entrance. he stares down as he pushes himself in, drinking in your sweet moans as he stretches you out. “gotta be quieter baby. everyones gonna hear you falling apart on my cock.” you nod, biting on your lip to keep yourself from crying out as he drills into you. you can feel your release quickly approaching, already close from his actions before. “gonna cum rafe!” you moan, making him cover your mouth with one of his hands as he continues to fuck into you.
he can feel his own release catching up to him with the way you’re squeezing around him. “fuck baby. cmon, cum all over my cock. show me how good it is.” he grunts. you arch up against him, body spasming as your release finally hits you. he can feel you practically milking him as you clench around him, your hands scratching along his back as he helps you ride out your high. he can feel his stomach tighten as he spills into you, coating your insides. you both freeze for a moment, the gravity of the situation hitting you before he pulls his hand away from your mouth. “that was better than my fantasies.” you breath out, looking at him with a fucked out grin.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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ecoterrorist-katara · 17 hours
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i have always wondered what happened behind the scenes between the show and and the comics. in the show, while s3 definitely relegated her to trophy for the main character to win in the end, she still was competent and her own person. the comics though? the writers actively hated her and it always felt like a very personal 'fuck you' from the writers to the (female) katara fans. there is such a huge difference in how they treated her, it still breaks my heart. she deserved so much better.
I think it’s telling that so many Katara fans take her post-ATLA lobotomy arc very personally. So many young girls loved her, looked up to her, saw her as the epitome of Girl Power TM because when ATLA was airing, that was the pinnacle of pop culture feminism. And that’s great, honestly, because she’s an amazing role model.
Let’s not forget that ATLA, despite its all-ages appeal, is a franchise for children. Unlike adult media, children’s media should have morals, and role models, and aspirational narratives. Katara is more than a fictional character: she’s a fictional character carrying the burden of not only representation, but aspiration. We want girls to look up to Katara and relate to her and put themselves in her shoes (and that’s why I never got the “self insert” argument wrt Zutara — if girls relate enough to Katara that they want to be like her, and shipping Zutara is a manifestation of that, how is that a problem?). We want girls to stand up for what’s right, to be brave, to embrace their own power and their agency. Which is what happened in most of the original ATLA, like you said.
and that’s why Katara’s later arc is such a slap in the face, because here’s a fictional character that so many girls looked up to…and now the narrative is going to relegate her to, what, a girl who follows her bf around and never does anything of note? A woman whose biggest contributions to the world happened when she was fourteen? A woman who begins to inexplicably take the backseat, again and again, whether it’s supporting her friends or maintaining world peace or even just making sure some groupies don’t hit on her boyfriend?
To be clear, I don’t give a fuck about the “what about the children!!!!” argument for most media, because most of it is just pearl clutching and purity politics, but children’s media is the one place where actually, you should ask, what message are we sending to the children? And apparently the answer here is “fuck you girls, no matter how accomplished and cool you were, you get married and have children and never do anything of note again. Leading a country? Saving people? Forget about it!”
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octoberobserver · 3 days
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Save The Last Dance For Me - Buddie Fic
Read on ao3 here
~*~
“I’m never drinking again.”
“Me neither.”
Buck groaned, cradling his head in the crook of his arm, a wide grin still spread across his face as he watched his sister and a little banged up but elated Chimney, have their first dance.
“They look happy,” Eddie murmured next to him, their shoulders brushing together as he took a large gulp of what must have been his fifth glass of water in the last hour.
It had been a…chaotic day, to say the least. From disastrous bachelor parties to losing the groom, to the same groom being in jeopardy all when he was supposed to marry the love of his life and the mother of his child, things seemed to keep going from bad to worse.
But with the help of their family and friends, they got there in the end. Maddie and Chim made their way back to one another and professed their love officially, all beautiful and legally binding.
Eddie got a lump in his throat as he watched his friend twirl his new bride, nudging Buck’s knee as he saw the tell-tale sheen in his gaze.
“You holdin’ up, okay?”
Buck nodded, turning those bright blue eyes to him.
A familiar warmth spread in Eddie’s chest at the sight. Buck had seemed…lighter these last couple of weeks. Ever since he came out to Eddie, and then the rest of the 118, it was as if a weight he hadn’t realized he’d had around him suddenly lifted, and Eddie, honestly, couldn’t be happier for his best friend.
“Yeah, I’m good. Happy it all worked out. They deserve it. Especially after everything they’ve been through.”
Eddie hummed in agreement, and the two of them went back to watching the couple, a companionable silence falling between them.
“You think you’ll ever do it again?”
He whirled around to find Buck’s stare tracing the side of his face, looking pensive.
“Dance?” he asked, being deliberately obtuse to try and avoid answering.
Buck rolled his eyes, knocking their shoulders together.
“Get married.”
Something sharp twisted in Eddie’s gut at that. His heart began to pick up speed.
“U-Uh…”
Fuck.
Ever since his talk with Bobby, he had asked himself that exact question. And a couple of more terrifying questions that he still didn’t have the answers to.
Their eyes locked.
“I’m not sure. Maybe? If…if I was with the right person.”
Buck held his gaze, looking as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.
“Evan?”
They turned towards the sudden voice behind them.
“Tommy!” Buck exclaimed excitedly, leaping out of his seat and enveloping him in a hug.
Eddie regarded the two of them, realizing that this was the first time he was seeing them together now that they were together. He watched Tommy’s hand land on Buck’s hip, the other coming up to grip his shoulder, squeezing it gently, his thumb sweeping over his collarbone.
Something painful suddenly jolted again in Eddie’s stomach, making him frown in confusion. He hurried to clear his expression as Tommy began to speak.
“You look…” he trailed off, taking in Buck’s dishevelled ‘Crockett’ outfit (Eddie still insisted that he was Tubbs, but whatever), “like you had an interesting night.”
Interesting sure was one way to describe it.
As if Buck was reflecting on just how interesting the night had been, he gave a half-shrug and sheepish grin.
“Not as interesting as you saving the day by rescuing Chimney in your chopper,” he quipped, nudging his shoulder as Tommy lowered his head almost bashfully.
“I don’t know, Buckley. Seein’ you in a pastel suit, even if it is a little dirty, is pretty high up there.”
Oh, God. They’re flirting.
Not that Eddie cared, of course. He was a good friend, an ally. He wasn’t uncomfortable or anything, of course not. He just couldn’t exactly explain the almost nauseated feeling in his gut at the moment. It was probably just something he ate or, you know, the gallons of alcohol he had consumed last night.
“Hey, Eddie.”
His head shot up to meet Tommy’s eye, and he quickly schooled his face into something more pleasant.
“Hey, man,” he raised from his seat to shake his hand, smacking him on the back in a half hug.
Tommy quirked an eyebrow at him, gaze trailing up and down.
“Tubbs?” he asked with a glint in his eye.
Eddie shook his head.
“I’m Crockett, he’s Tubbs, people just refuse to acknowledge it.”
Tommy laughed as Buck let out a groan.
“I’m more like Don Johnson, Eds. Accept it.”
“You didn’t even know who Don Johnson was until I told you,” he shot back. “Just because you insisted on binge-watching Miami Vice all week, does not mean you get to—”
“I wanted to stay on theme,” Buck interjected. “Chimney wanted the '80s, so he got the ‘80s. I wanted to be authentic to the character. Like, what’s it called…method acting?”
“Uh-huh. Okay, Daniel Day-Lewis.”
He was hyperaware of Tommy staring between them, watching their exchange with something unreadable on his face, and quickly cleared his throat.
“You want a beer, Tommy? I don’t think you’ll need your wallet tonight after getting the groom back to where he belongs.”
The three of them watched Chim dip Maddie, her peels of laughter audible over the music.
“Hey, you guys found him. I just drove. Or…flew,” Tommy chuckled as they all walked along the edge of the dancefloor, towards the bar.
“So, do I get to ask what happened to you?” he gestured to Eddie’s bare chest under his suit jacket.
Buck failed to stifle a snort.
“Little…karaoke mishap,” Eddie hurried to say as if that explained anything.
Tommy merely grinned, accepting the beer handed to him with an appreciative nod.
Eddie took that opportunity to glance back onto the dancefloor, noticing that Maddie was now waving frantically at them.
“Think you’re being summoned, Buck.”
Like an overexcited puppy, Buck bounced on the balls of his feet.
“Oh, yeah! Time for the brother-sister dance!”
Eddie and Tommy levelled him with twin looks of confusion as he flushed, babbling.
“Maddie insisted on a brother-sister dance instead of a father-daughter dance. Says it’ll bring her better luck this time around.”
With that, Buck smacked a quick kiss on Tommy’s cheek that had Eddie’s mouth twisting for some reason. He then clapped him on the shoulder and bounded across the room in a flash, taking Maddie’s hand as Chim took Hen’s.
Eddie watched the siblings and pseudo-siblings dance for a moment, feeling a gentle smile replace whatever was on his face at how happy they all looked.
“So. Evan told you we were dating.”
He was spat out of his reverie by Tommy’s words and tried not to let himself visibly react.
“Uh, yeah. He did. I’m happy for him. You too.”
He watched from the corner of his eye as Tommy shifted from one foot to the other, and suddenly worried that he had somehow said the wrong thing.
“Good. I’m glad. You’re his best friend, Eddie. He needs you.”
He could hear a slight tone colouring those words, but he couldn’t figure out what it was, so instead, he commented on something that had been plaguing him for a while now.
“You call him Evan.”
There was a beat where Tommy sipped his beer, gaze tailing Buck from across the room before he replied.
“You don’t.”
It was a non-answer to a non-question.
Eddie wanted to tell him that Buck didn’t really like being called Evan. That the only people who called him that were Maddie occasionally and his parents, with whom he had a complicated relationship. He wanted to tell him that Buck preferred ‘Buck’ because it was who he was now. Who he had become over the last seven years, away from his childhood home, his parents, and the ghosts that haunted him.
But he didn’t.
Because maybe Buck liked it when Tommy called him Evan. Maybe he was the exception. And that was none of Eddie’s business.
“No, I don’t. Not often. And usually only when I really need him to hear me.”
Because, Evan…you act like you’re expendable. But you’re wrong.
Tommy hummed, taking another sip.
“Does it bother you?”
That dragged his eyes off his friend’s cheerful face, meeting Tommy’s gaze, and despite what he had just been thinking, he heard himself reply:
“Why would you calling Buck ‘Evan’ bother me?”
Something weighty passed between them as if Tommy silently asked him something he had no idea how to answer.
“Not that,” he murmured, his focus zeroing back on Buck. “Does it bother you that we’re seeing each other?”
Eddie’s mouth went dry. He took another large gulp of water, forcing down a cough.
“O-Of course it doesn’t bother me. Why would it bother me?”
He almost cringed at the note of hysteria in his voice.
Tommy nudged him.
“Relax, Eddie. I wasn’t trying to insinuate anything. I just meant that I know how close you and Evan are, and how important he is in Chris’ life. I just wanna let you know that I don’t want what me and Buck might have come between that, man. And I’d get it if you were…concerned it would.”
Eddie wasn’t sure exactly how to answer that, so he merely nudged his shoulder back.
“S’all good. Yeah, Buck is my best friend. But you’re my friend too, Tommy. I’m psyched you two are givin’ it a shot.”
He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t meet his eye when he said that. Instead, he found himself staring back out on the dancefloor just in time to see Buck and Maddie do a stumbly double twirl, their identical grins on full display, Buck’s eyes glinting bright against the disco lights.
Eddie’s stomach did another random flip that made him glad he didn’t risk the appetisers earlier.
Seriously never drinking again.
“He is a terrible dancer,” Tommy laughed at Buck’s antics as he tried and failed to rope Chim and Hen into some sort of dancing quartet.
“Oh yeah, the worst,” Eddie agreed with a chuckle. “But he tries. And although he does care what people think, sometimes a little too much, he doesn’t let that stop him. That’s what counts.”
He wasn’t just talking about Buck’s dancing, obviously, and judging by Tommy's completive hum, he understood that.
“Yeah, it does,” his voice was fond in a way that was all too familiar to Eddie when it came to Evan Buckley. “I wish I had been more like him when I first came out.”
He chanced a glance at him, tilting his head.
“What do you mean?”
Something almost sad crossed Tommy’s face.
“I mean, I was kinda an asshole about it at first, to be honest,” he shrugged, wistful. “I was dealing with a lot, the…performance of it all, you know? Locker talk and beers with the boys and Captain Gerard’s idea of what men should be. Convincing myself that what I was feeling wasn’t actually happening and forcing myself to act out what I thought it meant to be a man and all that macho bullshit. Find a girl, get married, have kids, and provide the way a man should. But I couldn't do it. And in the process of resenting myself for that, it…cost me some good friendships. Maybe a couple of potential relationships, too. But Evan? He’s accepted himself with a gentleness that he deserves. That everyone deserves.”
Despite the music, some medley of cheesy pop songs surrounding them, Eddie felt as if his head had been submerged under water, a phantom clogging in his ears that had him shaking his head as they started to ring.
His chest felt tight, his palms starting to sweat.
“Eddie? You okay?” a distant voice asked, worlds away from what he was pretty sure was the beginnings of a panic—
A strong hand landed on his shoulder gently, and he glanced up, meeting a pair of bright blue familiar eyes.
His chest loosened.
His breathing steadied.
“Yeah,” he murmured, slightly shaking fingers grasping Buck’s forearm. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just…think I’m still a bit dehydrated, that’s all.”
He didn’t need to know Buck like the back of his hand to read that he wasn’t buying one word he had just said, but thankfully, Tommy provided a distraction.
“I believe you owe me a dance.”
Buck’s gaze flickered from Eddie to Tommy and back again before he let out a hesitant breath.
“I do.”
“Well, come on, Evan. Show me whatcha got.”
Buck glanced back to Eddie, almost as if seeking permission, which, nope, Eddie couldn’t let himself think of the implications of that.
“Go on,” he urged, plastering a smirk onto his still too stiff face. “Show him those moves, Crockett.”
Buck nodded, something still swimming in his eyes, but allowed himself to be pulled away.
Eddie stared after them as they made their way onto the dancefloor, hand in hand, their fingers linked. That same jolt in his stomach made its appearance for the umpteenth time.
I kinda can’t stop thinking about him…
That was what Buck had said that night, happiness practically radiating from him.
It had struck Eddie because, honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time his own thoughts were consumed by anyone who wasn’t his son or best—
Best friend.
Because, yeah. There were times he couldn’t stop thinking about Buck—many, many times over the years if he was being honest with himself. From grenades in legs and earthquakes to tsunamis and lawsuits to shootings and lightning strikes to everything in between, Evan Buckley had firmly taken up space in his mind—a lot. And it wasn’t just memories from the job, either.
There were drives to Chris and Carla introductions and Santa visits and skateboards and science projects and math homework and video games and movie marathons and breaking down doors and falling asleep on couches and poker nights and homemade meals and beers in kitchens and—
Suddenly, as if she were standing right beside him, he recalled what Maddie had said in her vows to Chimney a few hours earlier.
My brother once asked me what love should be. If it should be when you’re at your worst, and they’re at their worst, you have every reason to give up, and you still decide you wanna try again. I agreed with him then. And I agree with him even more now, because yeah, love is that and more, good and bad. Love is loving each other anyway…
He understood why she had included that, considering everything she and Chim had gone through over the years, but Eddie found, in that moment, a little selfishly, that he hadn’t been thinking about them. Instead, he thought about Buck and their relationship. How much they had gone through together since that first night in the back of the ambulance, and how he also agreed that, yeah, love should be that. Love should be choosing someone over and over again because you want to. Love should be seeing someone at their worst, and them at yours, and loving each other anyway.
But it hadn't occurred to him until just then that maybe not everyone thought about their best friends and their lives together during romantic wedding vows.
And that was before he had glanced up to find Buck already looking at him, from his place as Man of Honor at Maddie’s side, across from where he stood behind Hen at Chim’s. Eddie’s breath had died in his throat, unable to look away as Buck’s bright blue eyes locked on his while his sister talked about what true love meant, and how she had found her perfect partner in it.
You can have my back any day. Yeah, or you know, you could have mine.
He was startled back to the present as Buck let go of Tommy’s hand and whirled back around, clapping Eddie on the shoulder, leaning down, his breath ghosting over his ear in a way that had him suppressing a shiver.
“Go ask Marisol for a dance, Romeo.”
But I wanna dance with you.
The sudden thought had his breath hitching in his throat.
God knew they had danced like idiots only the night before during karaoke, but this was different. This was slow dancing at a formal event, in front of all of Buck’s family and friends.
I don’t care. I wanna dance with him.
Frowning at whatever he saw on Eddie’s face, Buck nodded towards Marisol, who stood off to the side with Christopher, Denny, and Karen. He gave his shoulder one last squeeze, right where it met his neck, his thumb lightly brushing his skin, before following Tommy.
Eddie stilled, watching him go, and felt something heavy and unnameable sink in his chest.
“Can I have this dance?”
He was ashamed to admit that the sudden appearance of Marisol at his side had him startled, but he recovered.
“Sure.”
They weaved their way in and out of the gathering couples. He clocked Bobby and Athena, Hen and Karen and, of course, Chim and Maddie as he passed, but he carefully kept his eyes from searching the room for anyone else.
Once they found a free spot, Eddie placed one hand over Marisol’s and clutched her waist with the other, leading slowly. He caught her eye for a brief, half-hearted smile before his gaze wandered aimlessly around the room.
The song was familiar, its melody soft, and its voice recognisable. Springsteen. A cover? It was definitely something he had heard in bars back in Texas, and could see Maddie and Chim singing together at karaoke.
🎵 Now you can dance every dance with the guy who gives you the eye, let him hold you tight. And you can smile every smile for the man who held your hand beneath the pale moonlight…🎵
A pastel blur waved in front of him, almost directly opposite where he and Marisol were.
There he was.
His best friend.
Buck was swaying in Tommy’s arms, his hands resting on his shoulders, lips upturned in a small, private smile.
Eddie’s heart did a somersault in his chest.
🎵 But don’t forget, who’s takin’ you home and in whose arms you’re gonna be. So darlin’, save the last dance for me… 🎵
Blue eyes met brown from across the dancefloor.
The pink and purple lights cast Buck in a soft, warm hue, shadows washing across his face as the lyrics whirled around them.
🎵 Oh, I know that the music’s fine like sparklin’ wine, go and have your fun. Laugh and sing, but while we’re apart, don’t give your heart to anyone… 🎵
Eddie fought not to clench his hands, distantly aware of Marisol, but unable to look away from Buck, who was still staring at him from over Tommy’s shoulder, something he couldn't decipher etched across every inch of him.
🎵 Baby, don’t you know, I love you so, can’t you feel it when we touch, I will never, never let you go… 🎵
He watched as Buck stumbled a little, their eye contact breaking abruptly as he hurried to apologize to Tommy. Eddie wanted to take that moment to look away, focus anywhere else—on his date, ideally—but he couldn’t. His gaze stayed glued to Buck, only half paying attention to his own movements, just enough to have some semblance of dancing, and just when he was going to forcibly drag his eyes away…
Buck looked back up.
Their eyes locked.
🎵 You can dance, go and carry on, ‘til the night is gone and it’s time to go. If he asks if you’re all alone, can he walk you home, you must tell him no… 🎵
Eddie felt his heart hammer in his chest, his throat go dry, a stinging welling behind his eyes.
🎵 ‘Cause don’t forget who’s takin’ you home and in whose arms you’re gonna be. Oh darlin’, save the last dance for me… 🎵
Oh. Well, there's the answer to one terrifying question.
The same question, if he were being truly honest with himself, that had first echoed in the back of his mind as he lay bleeding out on the street. Or maybe even buried underground while running out of air.
The last few bars faded out as all of the air felt like it had been sucked out of the room, suspending them in time. All he could see was Buck. Evan Buckley, his best friend in the whole world, staring back at him as if…as if he…
“—ddie?”
“Hmm?”
His eyes snapped down to Marisol, who was gently tapping the back of his neck.
“You with me?”
He swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding shakily.
“Yeah, yeah, I-I'm with...uh, sorry, I think the hangover is goin’ for round two.”
He almost cringed at the lame excuse, but it was all his addled brain could come up with, distantly aware that the music had changed to something fast and upbeat and altogether young in a way that made him feel very, very old.
“I…uh…I’m gonna go get a drink. Hair of the dog and all that. You want one?”
Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and high-tailed it off the dancefloor.
Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone.
Eddie had told that to Chim once. And now, he was dancing at his wedding.
Gonna follow your own advice, Diaz?
Violently shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of his very, very, inconvenient and dangerous thoughts, dodging in and out of people, his chest heaving. He only made it halfway to the bar before he heard a familiar clacking of crutches, and suddenly, a small hand tugged at his.
“Dad!” Christopher yelled over the music. “You gotta see this. Denny’s gonna do The Worm.”
Eddie froze in his tracks, snapping his eyes shut for a beat to calm himself before slowly turning to meet his son, hoping his face seemed normal.
Because the thing was, this didn’t feel like a panic attack. Not really. When he took a second to think about it, he realized it was true. Yes, the racing heart was there, the sweating palms, and the spiralling thoughts, but the actual panic? The godawful, icy fear in his veins that he had felt when Ana had been mistaken for his wife? No. That was conspicuously absent. So he wasn’t panicking. He wasn’t freaking out at the sharp turn his brain had taken when thinking about Buck.
Because it wasn’t sharp at all.
His heart had gotten there long ago. And had paved the way.
Be sure you’re following your heart…
That was what Carla had said to him. Years ago now.
...shit. Has everyone seen it before me?
Because yeah. This was a revelation.
An epiphany.
The final puzzle piece slotting into place and showing him the full picture for the very first time.
The picture that they made. He and Christopher and Buck. Their little family of three. He and Buck, having each other’s backs from almost day one, being partners in nearly every sense of the word, trying and sometimes failing together and loving each other anyway.
Except that last puzzle piece also told him that that love? Yeah. It was more than someone should feel for their best friend.
Shit.
“I didn’t think people still did The Worm,” he forced out a reply, relieved when his voice came out relatively fine.
“It was a very brief trend on TikTok,” Buck appeared beside them. “Brought it to a whole new generation. Chris showed him last week.”
Eddie took a breath, allowing his new, full, completed puzzle to settle into his chest, his heart, before narrowing his eyes at him.
“But Christopher isn’t allowed on TikTok.”
A blush rose to Buck’s cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Eddie’s stomach swooped. By now he'd stopped counting.
“No. But I am. And he may have been scrolling through my For You page. But I promise it’s all puppy videos and silly dances, Eds.”
He hummed at that as Chris let out another groan, impatiently tugging on his arm and nudging Buck forward.
“Come on, I don’t wanna miss it!”
Resigned to their fate, the three of them made their way back out onto the dancefloor where a small crowd was gathering.
As they walked, Buck threw him a gentle, enigmatic smile that seemed to shift the air around them.
And Eddie…
New revelations and all, smiled back and followed him.
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doe-eyed-fool · 23 hours
Text
Fear Of The Known
Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader
|Chapter Three|
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Michael was starting to act like his old self again. He was leaving his home more, and even spending more time with his brothers.
Speaking of.
Y/n never thought she'd be around Michael as much as she had since that day. Dare she even say, she and him were growing fairly close. Sure, they had been friends for a long time, but it was never like this. Spending more time with each other, having long talks, and just being in each other's company.
Y/n was grateful for Michael's company more than anything. She needed someone else to mourn with, at least, that's how it was at the start. Now, she felt the need to be with him just to simply be with him.
Yes, they had truly became closer friends overtime. And Michael was just as grateful for Y/n being around. He had his brothers, he had his heavenly father, but he was glad he had someone to call friend.
Together, they would slowly move on from Lucifer. Though, they would never forget him.
They made each other happy, comforted each other during rough times. Maybe things can finally go back to the way they were.
A sudden gasp left Y/n, alerting Michael. "What is it?" He asks. Y/n blinks a few times, putting a hand to her head. "It's Lucifer..."
Or maybe not.
Michael's expression fell. "What about him?" Y/n looks to Michael, and quietly answers.
"He and Lilith will soon have a daughter."
There was a look of shock on Michael's face. "A daughter?" Y/n nods. "Charlotte Morningstar, is her name. In just two months, she will be born."
Michael furrowed his brows, he fell silent as he was thinking. After a moment he exhales. "Do you see any possible threat coming from this?" He asks. Y/n shakes her head. "No, at least, not now."
"Alright then." Michael starts. "Then we should tell the others immediately."
"Right. Sera should know what to do next." Y/n says. "Actually, Y/n." Michael sighs. "I believe we should inform father before anyone else."
Y/n froze. She had not spoken to God in person for quite some time. Not since Lucifer fell...
"You're nervous." Michael places a hand on her shoulder. "That's an understatement." Y/n sighs shakily. "Lucifer was his son...and because I chose not to speak up, he's gone."
Michael offers her a comforting smile. "Y/n. You know my father, he is one of, if not, the most forgiving being there ever was. If I, and my brothers forgave you. Then I know he has. I will stay with you while you speak with him, if that will help?"
Y/n smiles a bit. "It would. Thank you, Michael."
"Of course, Y/n. Now, let's be off." Michael says as he takes her hand in his. The two of them were teleported inside of God's palace, just outside of his throne room.
Y/n inhaled and exhaled shakily, but she became slightly less tense as she felt Michael's hand gently squeeze hers.
"Are you ready?" Asked Michael. Y/n takes one more deep breath. "I am." Michael knocks at the door, and after a moment, someone called from the other side.
"Come in."
Michael and Y/n entered the room, ahead of them stood Galim. And right next to them, was none other than God himself. He easily towers at a towering ten and a half feet tall.
Upon noticing the two, God smiled brightly. "Ah, Michael! Hello my son!" He greets with open arms. Michael smiles and approaches him, leading Y/n along.
"And Y/n, always a pleasure to see you, dear!" God nods his head to her. Y/n looked up at him and tried her best to return the smile without seeming nervous. "It's nice to see you too, your majesty." She says respectfully.
God waved his had with a scoff. "None of that royal formalities, please. We're all friends here."
"Right." Y/n cleared her throat. She nervously glanced over to Michael, who gave her an encouraging nod. "Um, I apologize for showing up unannounced. But, I have news to share of the future. It's highly important."
"Of course." God says with a grin. "It involves Lucifer, I'm afraid." Y/n says cautiously. The smile on God's face fell, he was silent for a moment. Even Galim looked shocked by the news, they glanced up at God worryingly.
"And, what of him?" He asks.
"In two months time, his wife Lilith, will give birth to a baby girl named Charlotte Morningstar." Y/n explains. "So far, I see nothing we should need to fret over. Especially not while she is an infant. I can not say anything more than that for now."
God inhales and turns away from the three. Galim and Michael both looked concern, while Y/n was on the verge of panic.
This was fine. She needed to do this. She did the right thing, telling God about this. And yet, she couldn't help but worry about what he might do next...
But she did the right thing.
She couldn't let what happened before ever happen again. She tried to protect Lucifer before, and looked where it got him. Look what's happened to Heaven's progress, and the Earth now corrupted beyond repair. All because she did not speak up.
She did the right thing.
She did.
"Thank you for telling me, Y/n." God finally spoke. Y/n nods. "Of course."
"I suppose there is nothing we can do but what and see what will become of Lucifer's daughter in the future. Speaking of..." God turns to face Y/n again. "I'm sorry to ask, but I'd like it if you would look into the future of Charlotte Morningstar from now on. And please keep me informed."
"Yes, of course." Y/n tells him.
"If that is all?" God wonders. Michael nods. "Yes. Thank you for seeing us, father." He reaches for Y/n’s hand, ready to take her home. But before he could, God spoke again.
"Before you go, Y/n, may I speak with you for a moment? Privately."
Y/n's heart stopped for a moment. But she remained calm on the outside. "Alright."
Galim starts off out of the room, they noticed Michael hesitating before slowly following after.
After they left, God sighed before slumping on his throne. He brought a hand to his head. "Well, I suppose I am happy Lucifer isn't alone down there. He's even starting a family of his own." The smallest of smiles grew on his face, a sad one however. "Looks like I'm going to be a grandpa. It's a shame I can't congratulate him personally..."
There was that guilty feeling again. "I'm...I'm sorry." Y/n starts. "I should have done more to prevent him from going to that meeting. Maybe he'd still be here, if I had."
God moved his hand onto his lap. "I don't think anyone could have prevented him from going. Not even me." He chuckles. "Lucifer was a dreamer like none other. He'd stop at nothing to accomplish what he's reaching for." There was a fond smile on God's face. "He was truly one of my greatest creations."
Y/n felt tears gathering in her eyes. "He was." She says softly.
"Y/n. Back then, was there any future you saw where Lucifer's dreams became reality?" God asks. Y/n thinks back, after a moment she answers.
"One." She starts, smiling weakly. "And he looked so happy."
God was silent, smile still on his face, but Y/n did not miss the slight tremble in his shoulders.
Or the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.
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Y/n did as she was told, and kept tabs on Charlotte's future. So far so good. There was nothing that Heaven should be concerned about. Speaking of Charlotte, it wasn't long after she was born that all of Heaven knew who she was.
But again, Charlotte posed no threat to them. At least, not so far.
Throughout her childhood, and even into her adulthood, Charlotte was...surprisingly nice.
Really nice. To nice.
She lived in Hell all her life, and yet, she was the sweetest demon down there. It baffled everyone in Heaven. How could a demon be nice? Not only nice. But caring, merciful, pleasant, and so on.
And all of her own choice. She was never taught to be that way, she just, is.
But what bewildered Y/n the most, was what she would learn next of Charlotte's future.
"A hotel? To rehabilitate sinners?" Sera scoffs. "This is unheard of. No demon can be redeemed."
Sera was the second person you've told about this. God already knew about Charlotte's new project and seemed...confused? He definitely was shocked, there was no doubt about that.
"Charlotte seems to be very passionate about it." Y/n starts. "She even manages to get two people on board with this project of hers. Maybe even three. One who has an immense amount of power."
"An immense amount of power, you say?" Sera hums. "Y/n. Look further, please. I need to know just what we are to expect out of that...project."
"I'll try." Y/n says before closing her eyes. So far, she saw the same future as before. Charlotte Morningstar opens a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. Two others join her. A woman and a man. Then another man, one who radiates raw demonic power.
Y/n tries to look further down the line. Two more show up, significantly weaker than the previous man. Then there is Charlotte again, she's meeting with someone.
Y/n focusing in on who she's talking to. When she realizes who it is, her eyes shoot open.
"What is it?" Asks Sera.
"Charlotte Morningstar will arrive in Heaven. Very soon."
Sera looked puzzled for a moment before her expression returned to neutral. "I see. I will bring this up with Adam personally, thank you Y/n. That will be all."
"But, don't you need to know why?" Y/n asks. "No. If I can help it, this meeting will be avoided entirely. Now, I must speak with Adam, so if you'll please..." Sera says dismissively.
Y/n was confused, but decided to take her leave anyhow. Technically, Sera and the other Seraphims had authority above her. Y/n didn't want to push her luck by disobeying, and risk upsetting the head Seraphim.
Otherwise, Y/n would have questioned Sera as to why now she didn't want to know as much as about the future as possible. Surely Charlotte Morningstar meeting with the first man would raise some questions.
So why wouldn't Sera want to know why the meeting between them was called? Sera most certainly wouldn't have called for it. None of the Archangels would have any reason to. Even God wouldn't have done something like that.
Not unless there was a reason.
Y/n could help but feel like something was off...
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