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#as many of the added scenes were...but then i was like am i just going ham now or are we vaguely invoking that other wild book scene
shitpostingkats · 9 months
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An Asexual's love letter to Good Omens 2
There's an infamous quote by Neil Gaiman going around, regarding the general vibe of season 2, and many people (I believe humorously) yelling that it could not be further from the truth. Particularly in the last episode, where that happens.
I disagree.
The final episode of season 2 was deeply, deeply comforting to me. 
I am asexual. Have been my whole life. Even before I had the words to describe what that was, child-me had this feeling in their gut of being an outlier, that everyone was exaggerating, or in on some joke, that I wasn’t privy to. Because I was bombarded on all sides by shows and movies and books, telling the same story of love, again, and again, and AGAIN. It’s drilled into our brains with the same fervor as the days of the week, or the quadratic formula. Meet-cute -> misunderstanding ->declaration of feelings ->kiss. More or less steps can be added to account for runtime or complexity of narrative, but that’s the basic structure that a relationship follows. It MUST be, because that’s the formula every character who's ever been in a story goes through, often times when it even feels like an add-on, like it’s only there because this is a story, there HAS to be a romance. And it has to follow the steps.
For a long time, I felt love wasn’t for me, because if there’s only one way to be in love, I sure as hell wasn’t feeling it. 
Instead, the relationship I ended up in looked a lot like what Beezlebub and Gabriel go through. Meeting someone routinely until it starts to feel comfortable. Getting to know them and slowly growing more attached. Eating chips and listening to music.
We like to joke whenever someone asks us how long we’ve been together, because the answer is we just sort of slowly fell into it, and we honestly don’t know when the line got blurred between ‘friends’ and ‘partners’. And, at least for me, a good deal of that confusion, that hesitancy to label, came from the fact that what I was feeling, what we were, couldn’t be love. It couldn’t be romantic. 
We were just quiet and gentle.
And that wasn’t love.
Because it was slow, because it wasn’t physical, because there was no structure aside from consistency and companionship. Because it didn’t follow the Rules.
Then I found myself in stories, and it felt like a revelation.
Beelzebub and Gabriel aren’t the first time I’ve seen a love like I feel represented in a narrative, but it never stops feeling special. And I don’t know if I’ll ever stop celebrating it.
Throughout the sequence in the pub, I kept expecting them to “confirm” Gabriel and Beelzebub. A dramatic line, a kiss, a whatever. That’s what I’ve been taught to expect, after all, that’s the only way a relationship is “real”. Of course, this doesn't mean Crowley and Aziraphale sharing a dramatic kiss is wrong, or that I can’t see why it resonated with so many people, but for me. Those moments in the pub are worth so much more.The last scene might have been literally showstopping, but those handful of moments between the duke of hell and an archangel were the beating heart of the season for me. A simple love story in four scenes. No kisses. No ‘I love you’s. Not even any definition of what. The love Gabriel and Beelzebub have is strong enough for them to both want to shatter their worlds and flee their lives and it's just. 
It's just that. 
Two people in a pub, playing the other's favorite song, giving a little gift, buying a packet of crisps. 
That sequence means far more to me than any kiss ever could.
Love isn’t only real when it's hot and sudden and ephemeral, it can also be
Quiet.
And gentle.
And still romantic.
Still real.
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commander-rahrah · 7 months
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Firsts
Pairing: Astarion (non-ascended) x GN!Reader Word Count: ~1200 archiveofourown: here
masterlist: here
Summary: Post ending of BG3, established relationship. GN!Tav/Reader having a bit of self doubt and worrying that Astarion fell for the very first person he met once he realized he was free from Cazador and that they would understand if he someday decides that he wants to go explore or meet new people or fall in love more then once. Astarion’s reacts to this worry.
Note: I haven't posted any BG3 fics yet, but I just couldn't resist writing this little scene that's been bouncing around in my head this past week! I wrote it originally for my Tav named Olympia, a tiefling bard, but I changed it to second perspective for this post.
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Astarion’s eyes were trained on your fidgety movements. You were picking at the blanket as you sat on the edge of the bed, your hand shifting anxiously back and forth as your brow was crumpled in thought.
Something was eating away at you. He just wasn’t sure what. You two had a seemingly normal day, not starting until well past sunset (your new adopted routine just for him). The both of you had done some research and shopping before returning to the tiny rooms you were calling home for the time being to relax for the remainder of the night.
But now that he thought about it, you had barely touched your meal tonight. And were much quieter than usual, not as optimistic or positive during the research that had once again been futile. Perhaps you were being plagued by nightmares again — images of the horrors the party had faced just a couple months ago were resurfacing.
A flash of anger coursed through him at himself for not noticing sooner. Taking a breath he didn’t really need, he strode over to you and joined you on the edge of the bed — the mattress sinking slightly with his added weight.
“Copper for your thoughts, my sweet?” He asked with a tilt of his head, before tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“I— I was thinking…,” You were quiet, and stumbled as you opened your mouth. He’d very rarely seen you like this — you always had a way with your words. You could be more poetic and flowery than even him. “And— and I understand if you do end up feeling this way.”
Confusion spread across all of Astarion’s features, “What in the hells are you talking about?”
You finally looked up at him, your eyes big and crinkled with worry, “I was the first person you met when you realized you were free… from him.” The pair of you had silently agreed to never mention that name again. “The first person you’ve been with. If you… if you decide you want to go see the world, experience new things, new people… I would understand.”
His jaw clenched together, “What?”
“I feel selfish keeping you all to myself. When there’s so much of the world you’ve not seen, so many other people you could be with that I—“
His red eyes blinked at you, before his lips turned downward, “You’re being serious.”
“I—“
He cut you off abruptly, waving his hand dramatically and pressing it into his chest, “Do you think that’s what I want? Have I told you that’s what I want?”
You shook your head, lips creasing, “No, I just want you to know that it’s ok if—“
“What, if I want to leave?” He stood up from the bed, looming in front of you as he spoke, “If I want to go galivant around to meet mysterious strangers, have a tryst or some torrid affair? I know that I am capable of making my own decisions. I know that darling, and I chose you. I choose you. And you reciprocated that.”
“I did. I do, I choose you. But I’ve—“
He interrupted you again, “Let me ask you something. Do you love me?”
“Of course. With all my heart.”
His heart still swelled with your answer. It did every time you admitted it to him. To hear it put out into the universe. That a tiny corner of it was indeed intended for him and you.
He pursed his lips before asking, “Have you loved people before me?”
“I—yes.” You admitted, looking down to your fingers that had become a twisted knot on your lap now.
“And did it feel the same? The love you shared for those other people.” He asked quietly, stepping closer and leaning down to undo the knot of your fingers. Instead threading them through his own pale, cold ones. “Did your love for them feel the same way you love me?”
Your throat bobbed as you swallowed, squeezing his hand in confirmation. “No. Not even close.”
“Exactly. You explored and experienced… and it still led you here, to me now. To your version of a first, yes?”
You nodded, the bottoms of your beautiful eyes starting to form with water as you tried to keep your tears at bay.
“I don’t need anybody else, or anywhere else.” Astarion sank to his knees in front of you, keeping his hands intertwined with your own. He dipped his head so he was looking up at you, his red eyes soft and tender. “Look… yes, you may have been the first person I stumbled upon after that damn ship. The first person I met once I realized I was free from his grasp. But you are also the first person to treat me with kindness and compassion. Respect. You’ve fought for me, protected me, fed me, been patient with me. You were the first person whose touch doesn’t make me feel ill, the first person who’s brought me to a blissful euphoria. You’ve given me peace. Autonomy. Safety. And love. No one has ever done that for me, not in my whole existence.”
His half dead heart was thundering in his chest. He had already declared himself to you once before, yet his whole body was shaking with emotion right now.
“And how dare you think so little of yourself. You aren’t just some notch in my belt, not a stepping stone in my life. You are everything.” Astarion used his thumb and finger to push your chin up, forcing your eyes to stare up into his. “I love you. No on else. And there will be no one else.”
The tears that were welling in your eyes finally broke free, rolling down your freckled cheeks. “I love you too. Irrevocably so.” Your voice was a raspy whisper.
“Oh my lovely moon, I wish you could see yourself how I see you.” Astarion’s voice was a gentle whisper.
He pressed a soft kiss onto your lips, both of his hands moving to grab the sides of your face. His pale thumbs wiped away the tears. “I surely hope these are somewhat happy tears now?”
You nodded profusely in his hands, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Happy, relieved.”
“Good. Now, no more of this talk alright? There is only room for one person to be filled with self doubt in this relationship and that position is currently filled by me.”
You frowned, “Starry, don’t jest about things like that.”
“Old habit.” His smirk pulled up enough that his fangs poked out. “No more stewing with your anxious thoughts. You’re going to come and join me on the balcony. Come on,” He stood up and held out his pale hand for you before he gently tugged you to the small balcony attached to your rooms.
The pair of you looked up at the inky black sky, glittering with the sprinkling of stars you could still see in Baldur’s Gate. They were blinking and swirling around the glowing, full moon. A sigh of contentment left you both as you stood in comfortable silence and basked in the light.
“What would the stars be without their moon?” He whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist as he gathered you into him.
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little-diable · 15 days
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May thy knife – Feyd-Rautha (smut)
This is y'alls fault, all your comments made me write this. So, here we go, psychotic reader is back, but with a somewhat loving relationship. It felt only right to twist this famous scene – I'm sure this has been done before but I haven't read a fic that takes on this twist just yet, so I'm in no means copying any fic out there. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: What if the reader, who is married to Feyd-Rautha, didn't know that Paul, her brother, was still alive? What if it was her fighting against him instead of Feyd – all for revenge, to make her brother feel the same pain he had forced her to feel with his faked death?
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), willingly rough loss of virginity, choking, dom!Feyd, degrading, spitting, fighting, passing out, blood licking, knife licking, reader is a psycho fitting Feyd, yet there's some form of love between the two, and no, I ain't killing us so we survive the fight
Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x fem!Atreides!reader (4.2k words)
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The hatred she emanated was felt by all people surrounding her, people who didn’t dare meet her icy gaze – not even the emperor dared to turn towards (y/n). It was a wise decision, for the sake of all their lives, knowing that she could rob their soul and their last breath even without any weapons on her. 
It had only been a few minutes since they had been taken prisoner, and while (y/n) could have easily fought her way out of the tight grasp, she hadn’t been able to move. Frozen to her spot as she had never been before, unable to move as her eyes followed the frame of the Muad’Dib. Paul Atreides. Her brother. The man she had believed to be dead for endless weeks. The prophet who hadn’t spotted her in the small crowd. 
Not even Feyd-Rautha’s closeness had managed to rile her up at that moment, the man she had been forced to marry, the man she hadn’t allowed to touch her, not even on their wedding night. It hadn’t taken him long to accept that she’d cut off his hands should he touch her, speaking lies to the Baron to answer private questions that had left (y/n)’s insides churning. Feyd had protected her even when she went against a simple contract, lured closer by the darkness she carried deep within herself. 
She had made too many sacrifices for her brother and their mother’s lies, tossed away for a strategic marriage she hadn’t been prepared for. All to mourn her brother who was still alive and breathing, guiding those who saw the prophet in him.
“You’re quiet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this, wife.” Feyd’s breath teased her neck, he stood with his armoured front pressed against her back, hands resting on her waist. It was a dangerous game, a game she didn’t buy into, too focused on her racing mind. Feyd gave (y/n) another moment to push him away, just like she had always done – but she didn’t, she kept herself pressed against him as if he was an anchor saving her from drowning. “What are you planning?”
“How I will kill the Muad’Dib.” Not one ounce of love thumped through her veins, an emotion she had once held onto, at least for her older brother; a love that had frozen in her system the second she had heard his voice ring in her ears minutes ago. Feyd’s raspy chuckles left her skin tingling, adding fuel to the fire simmering deep inside of her. 
For a moment, (y/n) allowed herself to focus on her husband’s touch, how he held onto her, tight enough to send a clear message to wandering eyes. He may have not claimed her behind closed doors, addicted to their game of back-and-forth, but to all those eyes, she was his as he was hers, a ruthless husband to a cunning wife. 
“You know, I am always excited for a fight.” She wanted to reply, wanted to tease him for fighting against drugged prisoners who never stood a chance against him, but the second his cold lips met her throat, her words were lost on her sharp tongue. Her heart roared in her chest, not used to being kissed by Feyd, not after their first and only kiss in front of their wedding guests. 
“You won’t fight. This is between my brother and me.” (Y/n) turned in Feyd’s grasp, letting her eyes wander over her husband’s features. He was handsome, she had always been drawn to him, and yet something had always held her back – the fear of being tied down by a man who perfectly matched her ruthless ways, a man who would rather kill himself than back down from a fight, just like (y/n). They were too similar, a scary realisation she had been forced to face many moons ago. 
“I will let you fight, wife, but for that, I get to claim you tonight.” The mischief twinkling in his bright pupils pushed anger through her, anger clashing against lust. Her mind didn’t get to interfere as (y/n) shifted her weight onto her toes to press a kiss to his lips. She pulled away before Feyd could deepen the kiss, heart roaring in her chest as if it was communicating with his. 
“You’ll have to lick my brother’s blood off me before you get to touch me.” Her words were meant as a warning, a warning Feyd clearly found enjoyment in. And with his raspy laugh echoing through the room, she found herself thrown back into her darkening mindset, preparing for a fight against her brother. 
……
“How can you be so sure the Great Houses are here for me?” Paul’s voice filled the room. She didn’t see much of his frame, standing behind Feyd to shield herself from her brother’s and her mother’s eyes. She hated the way her fingers trembled, urged on by her anger, by her sadness, emotions flushing through her like poison set to kill her. “They may be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think? I am Paul Atreides, son of Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis.”
She wanted to shoot forward, wanted to throw herself against her brother’s frame to force him to his knees. But the hand Feyd pressed against her stomach to hold her back was enough to stay glued to her spot. The time wasn’t right just yet. 
“Gurney, send a warning to all ships. If the Great Houses attack, our atomics will obliterate all spice fields.” Paul’s words left most of the people surrounding (y/n) tensing, words that were about to force a laugh out of her. She could feel and see her mother’s influence on Paul, forming him into the son she had always dreamt him to be. 
“You’re out of your mind.” The Emperor’s slightly trembling voice drew a smirk to both (y/n) and Feyd’s lips, they got a taste of the chaos soon unfolding in front of them, drawing a sick sense of satisfaction and anticipation through the couple. 
“He’s bluffing.” She couldn’t stop a soft laugh from leaving her at her husband’s words, urged on by the need to stand even closer. Her body was guiding her without giving her mind a chance to protest as her hand found Feyd’s. She was still covered by his tall frame, and yet she felt him freezing for just a second as she interlaced their hands. 
“Consider what you’re about to do, Paul Atreides.” Within seconds, the voice filled their ears, forcing the Reverend Mother to lose her balance. No longer could (y/n) focus on the exchange between Paul and the Emperor, no longer could she focus on Feyd whose hand she had dropped once again. (Y/n) knew that the time was finally right, it was now or never, a fight that would end with either her’s or her brother’s life on the line.
“Stand or choose your champion.” Those were the words that ripped (y/n) out of her trance, pushing past her husband. She didn’t see how Feyd’s fingers twitched, having to stop himself from reaching for her, to stop (y/n) from fighting a battle he had been destined for. 
“I’m here, Paul.” (Y/n) spoke the words with venom dripping from her voice, watching her brother’s bright pupils widen. From the corner of her eye, she could watch her mother shoot to her feet, and yet (y/n) didn’t dare let her gaze wander, enjoying the realisation that began to widen on her brother’s panicked features. “I need a blade.” 
“Accept mine.” She didn’t rip her eyes from her brother’s to look at the Emperor, seizing the chance to read Paul well enough to tell her that he fought an inner battle. Paul whispered her name as he slightly shook his head, begging his sister to step away. Her tongue kissed her teeth as a blood-curdling smile widened on her lips, she didn’t need to speak up to tell Paul that she’d try everything she could to kill him, a simple act of revenge for leaving her, for forgetting her, for playing her. 
With a slow nod thrown her way, seemingly accepting her will to fight, Paul turned from (y/n) to walk back towards his people. Only Feyd’s hand on her waist managed to rip her gaze from her brother’s frame, “Make me proud wife. Kill him.” 
Feyd squeezed her waist as he pressed a harsh kiss to her lips, a clear signal for all those who were watching their interaction. He’d kill them all should she die, avenge her death as if it was his own life they tried to take. Without speaking another word, (y/n) pushed Feyd away from her, she tightened her grip on the Emperor’s blade, and let her feet carry her towards her brother. 
“(Y/n),” Paul’s choked-up voice drew a humourless chuckle out of her. For a moment, she allowed her gaze to stray, to look at their pregnant mother and the unreadable expression she wore. (Y/n) had never been the favourite child, even though she was the girl Jessica had been asked to birth. She had always been too ruthless, too cold, too cunning for their family, the outcast who had been married to Feyd at the first given chance. 
“Say it.” (Y/n)’s words were venomous, spat at her brother whose pained expression made him appear even more pathetic in her eyes. She wanted Paul to speak the words, words the siblings had spoken as mere children whenever they challenged one another into a play fight. Paul kept quiet, unable to part his lips until she almost screamed her words, “Say it!”
“May thy knife chip and shatter.” Paul’s voice trembled as he spoke the words, momentarily closing his eyes as if he struggled to accept their fate, to accept that he was expected to kill his beloved sister, unable to back down from a fight like this. She repeated the words much slower than Paul had, with a dangerous smile tugging on her lips – no longer did (y/n) care about her own life, about the mere chance of dying in her brother’s arms. She was hungry for revenge, to make him feel the pain she had been forced to carry deep within herself these past weeks. 
And then everything began to blur, one attack after another, one strike after another, one stumble after another. She felt all their eyes on them as they fought, but (y/n) couldn’t give into the temptation to study the crowd, searching for Feyd’s eyes that were glistening with adoration for his wife. A woman fighting like a snake, slithering along Paul’s body to squeeze him to death. 
Only as Paul’s knife cut (y/n)’s skin for the first time did her world begin to slow down, momentarily stopping its spinning motion. Paul seemed to freeze just like she did, focusing on the blood pouring from the wound. Perhaps he expected her to back down, to leave the circle to search for her husband’s protection. But (y/n) did something she had studied her husband do one too many times: Her fingers found her wound, picking up the drops of blood to suck her fingers clean, high on the coppery taste. Feyd’s laughter rang in her ears as she attacked her brother once again, faster this time, even more ruthless than the rounds before.
With blood sticking to her lips, (y/n) and Paul kept circling one another – all until she seized her chance to ram her knife into his side. Paul’s gasp forced their mother to her feet once again, searching her daughter’s eyes to shake her head, a silent warning not to kill her brother, a silent gesture that they wouldn’t mourn her death, only Paul’s. But while her mother’s eyes carried a clear warning, Feyd’s carried encouragement, asking his wife to end this right there and then. 
A moment of distraction that gave her brother the chance to slice his blade through her skin, forcing it to nestle inside her stomach. Both siblings held onto one another, glassy eyes finding back together as neither loosened their grip. 
“Do it, kill me. Feel the pain you’ve forced me to feel, feel the grief that has almost killed me.” Tears dripped from (y/n)’s eyes as she choked on her blood, knowing that she’d pass out any moment now. And even though she felt the darkness creeping through her veins, telling her that it was time to bid this life goodbye, a smile began to widen on her lips. 
This was the moment she had imagined all these weeks, it was finally upon them. 
Slowly Paul sacked to the ground with (y/n) clinging to him, holding onto her as he lifted his teary gaze. She didn’t see the way her brother's panicked gaze looked around the room, didn’t see the way his eyes found Feyd’s rage-filled ones, luring her husband closer. All she could focus on were the tears dripping from Paul’s bright eyes, holding back his sobs as Feyd kneeled next to them. 
“Do whatever you must, save my sister.” 
……
She woke with a gasp, eyes shooting open. It took her a moment to focus on her surroundings, the grey walls, the dim light, and the figure standing close to her bed. Pain shot through her as she tried to move, forced to plop back down onto the mattress with a curse clawing through her.
“You’re finally awake.” Feyd’s raspy voice drew a whimper from (y/n)’s chapped lips, eyes momentarily fluttering close to try and remind herself of what had happened. “You almost died, killed by your foolish brother who has never fought fair before. I should have killed him for hurting you.” 
“Come here.” (Y/n) ignored her husband’s words, not daring to think of her brother, of their fight, and of the blood she had lost. Wordlessly, Feyd came to a halt next to her, staring down at her to wait for (y/n)’s next command. With another gasp roaring through her, she shuffled around on the bed, making space for her husband to lay next to her. “If you tell others of this I will kill you.”
His chuckles filled the room as he carefully placed himself next to her. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, giving the married couple a chance to be close to one another for the first time, without any eyes on them, without hatred urging words to leave their cold lips. 
Feyd’s hand slightly trembled as he reached for her no longer bloody fingers, slowly interlacing them. Never had he done this before, reaching for her without any further message to communicate, holding onto her for the mere chance to be close to her. 
“What happened to Paul?” Pain clawed through her at the thought of her brother. Anger had forced her to act, anger she hadn’t been able to swallow until now, unsure how to accept that her family had lied to her. 
“Don’t worry about him for now.” Feyd didn’t tell her how he had left the planet with her, how he had brought her away from that place. Feyd didn’t tell her how he had sworn to Paul that he’d avenge (y/n)’s death should she die. Feyd didn’t tell her how Paul had told others to let them go, not knowing where Feyd was taking (y/n), not knowing if he’d ever see his sister again. 
And at that very moment, (y/n) didn’t find the strength to ask another question, the strength she would regain soon enough to find her path back to her cunning self, set on ending the ruleless game between her and her family. 
…… 
“Fight like a Harkonnen for fuck’s sake!” Anger pushed her words past her clenched teeth. Sweat was pooling on (y/n)’s forehead as she stared at her husband with spite swimming in her pupils. She knew Feyd was holding back, not trusting that (y/n) had regained her full strength just yet, the strength she’d need to force him to his knees in a training session like this. 
“Wife.” It was a warning he spoke, a warning not to rile him up even further, knowing that he’d lose his patience soon enough. (Y/n) darted at her husband, her body collided with his to throw them both to the ground. She straddled his waist with a grim expression tugging on her features, knowing that in any other scenario, she wouldn’t have been able to attack Feyd like that. “Fine, this is your own fault, darling.”
Feyd harshly pushed her off him, momentarily robbing his wife of her breath as her back collided with the cold ground. He rose to his feet with his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists – the version of her husband (y/n) desperately had tried to trigger. They circled one another, holding onto their blades with twitching fingers, set on regaining the upper hand.
Now it was on Feyd to attack first, his blade met hers over and over again, until he cut her cheek, drawing a hiss out of (y/n). She was heavily panting as he chuckled, bringing the bloody tip of his blade up to his pale lips to lick it clean, moaning at the taste of her blood. 
Something began to shift at that moment, something that forced her to drop her blade, to throw herself into his grasp and to kiss him. Both fell back to the ground, allowing Feyd to cage her between the floor and his frame. His hand found her throat to keep her pinned down beneath him, all while their tongues fought for victory. 
(Y/n) tightened her legs' grasp around his waist to pull him even closer, moaning at the way he ground his hips against hers, making her feel his hardening cock straining against his tight trousers. Everything about this moment was new to her, unsure of where to go from there without any experience guiding her, not knowing how to touch her husband. And yet, everything seemed to come almost naturally to her, trusting her body and Feyd to push her through the soaring waves of heat filling her trembling body.
“I should have fucked you months ago. You had your chance, but now I won’t be gentle with you, I will fuck you as a woman like you deserves to be fucked.” His words shot heat straight to her core, words that forced her to hold still as Feyd kept manhandling her, cutting her shirt open with his blade. The groan that left him at the sight of her naked chest made (y/nn) back arch, desperate to feel his hands on her. “I should tie you up, keep you as my toy to claim whenever I am hungry for you. I bet you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”
“I hate you!” It was nothing but a lie, a lie both easily saw through, but at that very moment neither Feyd nor (y/n) cared about pleasantries, urged on by their desires. He cut open her trousers before another curse could leave her, exposing her arousal-covered folds to his darkening eyes. Tonight he’d litter her in bruises. Tonight he’d force her to follow his rules. Tonight he’d show her his most ruthless side. 
“Hate me all you want, wife, your body still craves the touch of your husband. You’re dripping for me.” He didn’t warn her before he plunged two fingers into her tightness, feeling her walls flutter around his digits. Feyd held eye contact with her as he spat on her cunt, rubbing his saliva against her pulsing bundle. (Y/n)’s moans rang in his ears, urging him on as if he was high on spice, blurring out their surroundings, blurring out the calmness they were now disturbing. “I can’t wait to rip you open with my cock, make you feel pain you won’t ever forget.” 
Her mind was silenced, fogged up by the lust thumping through her veins. Feyd fucked her with his fingers, he pushed her closer to the high she had only allowed herself to feel whenever she had been desperate for his touch but too proud to search his closeness. But her body wasn’t ready to give up the chase just yet. Her hand found her blade, moving without gaining Feyd’s attention, who was still fully focused on her cunt.
With quick movements, she brought the tip of her blade to his throat, stopping him in his movements. The chuckle leaving Feyd left her smirking, looking even more psychotic with the blood still dripping from the cut on her cheek. She barely put up a fight as Feyd ripped the blade from her hand, as he shifted them around to bring her to her knees and up against his front. 
The blade teased her throat as he held her to him, even as he freed his aching cock, ready to disappear deep inside of her, “You had your chance, I would have prepared you for my cock, would have given you time to adjust. But that kindness is no longer among us. Now you’ll take my cock like my own personal whore.” 
He forced his cock into her cunt, groaning at the tightness engulfing him. Tears ran down her cheeks, tears of lust, of pain, of desperation – finding an unfamiliar sense of enjoyment in Feyd’s rough touches. His name rolled off her tongue as he fucked into her from behind, dropping the knife to choke her with his cold hands once again. 
Feyd was treating her like his pet, treating her like he had been raised to treat women – momentarily forgetting about the love he fostered deep inside of him. And she loved every second of it, finally able to give up control for the first time. 
“It brings me great pleasure knowing that no other man will ever get to have you like this. Your body is mine, you’re my whore, you only listen to my commands. And you will kill whoever dares to touch you should I not be fast enough to do it myself.” His words left her choking, forced to claw her fingernails into his pale skin as her mind began to race. Even though the words didn’t sound like it, it was the most sincere love confession Feyd had ever spoken, words that cut deeper than any blade ever would. 
“Feyd.” She whimpered his name as his free hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves to push her towards the edge. The first of many orgasms was awaiting her, set on ripping her from this place into another dimension, led by her husband. (Y/n) felt his black teeth run along her neck, biting the spot where her neck met her shoulders, close to drawing some more blood from her weeping body. 
She came without another word clawing through her, calling out his name as her orgasm momentarily robbed her of her vision. Feyd kept a strong hold on her throat, his hips kept meeting her behind, forcing his cock further into her clenched tightness. He gave it a few more thrusts before he pulled out of her and rose to his feet. 
With his hand finding her hair, he forced her towards him, making her scalp burn from the strength of his touch. His cock was shoved past her parted lips, letting (y/n) taste herself on his cock as he fucked her mouth. The corners of her mouth began to burn within a few moments, once again making tears fall from her glassy eyes. 
She had never seen her husband like this, trembling for her, with his head thrown back, and his eyes closed, fully focused on the pleasure thumping through her. No longer did she feel the need to fight, no longer did her fingertips ache for the feeling of her blade, no, for the first time since knowing Feyd, she wanted to give her everything to satisfy the man. 
“You’ll swallow every drop of my seed, and then you’ll lick me clean.” It was a simple command, a command that left her moaning around his cock. Feyd came within a few more seconds, releasing himself down her throat and on her eager tongue. The two held eye contact as she swallowed, as she ran her tongue up and down his twitching length, following his every command. 
“Where are you going, wife?” She froze in her movements, her heavily panting self had turned from him, set on plopping down on the ground to catch her breath. (Y/n)’s wide eyes were drawn back to his like spice forced up into the air, following the wind’s call. “That was only the beginning. I won’t be done with you for a while.”
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lxkeee · 2 months
Text
TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
-PART SEVEN
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: Angst (for now)
Warnings: Swearing and Adam.
Notes: shit is about to go down.
PART ONE | PART SIX | PART EIGHT | NAVIGATION
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“Because if you don't, I will personally kill you myself.” [Y/n] added, her eyes glaring down on Adam, her power and strength can be felt through the air and they can tell that she is absolutely furious.
“Oh shit.” Adam muttered underneath his breath. His boss' boss is here.
Adam nervously chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, “Heyyy there [Y/n]... I didn't expect you to be hereee or rather, I didn't expect to see you today... Don't you have work...?” he says nervously, clearly not expecting the news would reach the Seven Heavenly Virtues this soon and [Y/n]'s eyes narrowed even more at him, her wings fluttering behind her back—puffed up and angry.
“Enough Adam, you've done enough pain and destruction here. Take the exorcists and your ass back hOME!” She sneered, her eyes looking at Adam with annoyance, “You and Sera will be held accountable for your actions and for your disobedience and if you don't want a severe punishment then I suggest you go home quietly and quickly. Do you understand?” she snapped, her voice filled with anger and authority. Reminding them who they're dealing with.
Adam avoided her gaze and eventually nodded, “I understood...” he muttered, opening a portal back to heaven with a snap of his fingers, “Exorcists! Fall back and return.” Adam ordered and flew past [Y/n], the exorcists following behind him.
The sinners just looked at the scene in awe, an angel ordering Adam to stop whatever the fuck he was doing and the man just complied without questions.
Lucifer's eyes never left her form, he never stopped looking at her in fear that the moment he blinks she will disappear once more. Like a dust in the wind.
[Y/n] sighed, her angelic form calming down once Adam and the exorcists left, the portal closing. She turned back to look down on the sinners. Her heart ached when her eyes finally landed on her husband. Her mind telling her to imagine it was Xavier but how can she? When Lucifer was missing Xavier's [e/c] eyes? That is not her son, that is Lucifer, her husband, ex-husband?? She doesn't know the status of their marriage and she's in too much in pain to care.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm down her fast beating heart, she can feel her body is weakening even more. She barely got any rest, she's also wounded and her healing powers took most of her energy. She just hoped she had enough to last to return back home and back to her son.
She slowly flies down to where the sinners are, to where Lucifer is.
She landed in front of them gracefully, well, a little wobbly.
The sinners and Lucifer looked at her with hesitation, nervous whether she was a new enemy or an ally.
“Greetings, I am Raphael from the Seven Heavenly Virtues.” She greeted, giving them a small bow, “On behalf of heaven and the seven heavenly virtues, we apologized for Sera's, Adam's, and the exorcists' behavior. This cleansing wasn't approved by the others and was done without the other's notice. We will make sure that they will be held accountable for their actions and disobedience. We never intended for sinners to suffer like this.” she says, her voice quivering before kneeling in front of them.
This is so embarrassing. [Y/n] thought to herself.
Their eyes widened in surprise to see an angel, a seraphim angel prostrate herself, her head on the ground as she asked for their forgiveness.
They were also surprised to know that this cleansing wasn't a decision made by the entirety of heaven but just a few people.
Charlie waved her hands, trying to get the woman to stop kneeling, “Um... Please raise your head...” Charlie says nervously.
Lucifer was speechless, how could he not? His first wife that he didn't see for so many millennia is here. His eyes caught sight of a golden wedding ring on her ring finger—the very wedding ring he slipped into her finger when they got married, he could never forget it. She still wore it after all these years, after all the things he has done to her and their family. She waited for him...
[Y/n] raises her head, her eyes tired and... Lucifer doesn't remember her eyes to be this... Sad. His heart broke into pieces. He's done this, he caused her so much pain and it changed her. Those aren't the eyes of the [Y/n] he fell in love with, [Y/n]'s eyes were so bright and hopeful before and now... It doesn't even look like it can see herself living tomorrow. It doesn't even look like she has gotten enough sleep judging by the heavy bags underneath her eyes and the dark circles around her eyes.
[Y/n] avoided Lucifer's gaze, she felt so small and weak underneath his eyes. Even after all these years he still had this much effect on her.
[Y/n] tried to focus on whatever the girl said, her ears were slightly ringing and her eyes were slightly blurring. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before slowly standing up, wobbling slightly.
Everyone noticed it, something is definitely wrong with her and it made them worry. They can notice how pale she looked and she seems to wince slightly whenever she moves.
“Are... Are you okay...?” Charlie asked worriedly, helping her up and [Y/n] smiled, though it never reached her eyes. The girl looked just exactly like Lucifer, this must be his daughter then?
“I'm just a little tired, don't worry about me.” She says weakly, patting the girl's head.
“I think I would be leaving now, we'll make sure to punish both Adam and Sera for their actions and we'll try to help hell find a better way to deal with its growing population.” She says, gently parting away from the girl's hold. Her body felt heavy and so incredibly exhausted. This is bad, she needs to get home soon.
She stumbled slightly, Lucifer's eyes widened and his body moved without thinking  and caught her effortlessly, her head pressed against his chest, [Y/n]'s eyes widened, her eyes starting to prick, no don't cry, don't cry... He felt so warm and so soft, she missed this. She weakly tries to push him away. She can still smell his signature perfume of vanilla and roses from his suit. The scent calmed her down slightly.
“Lucifer... Please don't... Please don't hold me like this... Please don't hold me like you still care...” she pleaded weakly, trying to push him away. Her arms on his chest, weakly pushing him away but the man wouldn't budge.
These two have history together... The others thought as they looked at the two angelic beings.
Lucifer's heart aches even more but refusing to let go of her and make her fall into the floor, he can tell she's incredibly exhausted by how much she's no longer trying or having the energy to stand up for herself.
“No [Y/n]... I made that mistake before and I promised not to lose you again...” he says, his voice cracking with emotions, slightly choking on his words. [Y/n]'s eyes widened at his words, her heart aching, hurting, she wants to believe his words, but the damage is not so easy to fix. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She nuzzled her head against his chest, her eyes finally rolling back as she passed out into his arms. Physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted. Despite all of that, Lucifer's arms are as warm and comforting as she remembers.
Lucifer's gaze softened, he gently shifted [Y/n]'s limp body so he's now carrying her bridal style. Making sure he's not causing her even more pain.
His eyes returned back to the sinners and her daughter, they looked at him with evident confusion in their eyes. He sighs, “She's... My first wife... First ex-wife.. I don't know...” he answered pathetically to the unspoken question in the air, even he himself doesn't know what his status with her is. They never really divorced each other.
Angel Dust whistled, “Quite a dilemma you got there toots.” he snickered and Lucifer glared at him before sighing, he himself agreed to that statement, “I know...” he sighs.
“I'll just leave her somewhere safe to rest and I'll come back to help fix and tidy up this place.” Lucifer says, summoning a portal behind him and quickly stepping in with [Y/n] in his arms. The others didn't have time to protest as the portal closed before they could.
Lucifer carried her effortlessly in his arms, walking towards his bedroom—it is currently the cleanest as the other rooms were dusty from being unused.
He gently laid her down to rest on his bed, making sure she's not lying down on her hair. He was about to tuck her in when he noticed something golden seeped into her white dress, just by her waist.
His eyes widened, that's blood. Angelic blood to be specific.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
She's bleeding, what the actual fuck happened to her?
He thought to himself, debating whether to rip her dress or undress her so he could treat her wound.
“Oh Satan. I shouldn't overthink this, she's in desperate need of help.” Lucifer muttered underneath his breath, hands shaking. Why wouldn't he? She's finally back in his arms and now she's wounded and bleeding and passed out to exhaustion? He's behind worried!
Think Lucifer, think.
He thought to himself before finally getting an idea. He gently wakes her up with a small nudge, causing the girl fo groan and open her eyes.
Pain, sharp pain on her side is what [Y/n] felt first when she woke up. She could see a familiar mop of light blond hair. Disoriented, her eyes blurry,  and head aching, she just groaned, “Xavier...?” she calls out, thinking it was her son.
“I'm sorry [Y/n], I'm just going to undress you and treat your wound real quick. Can I do that?” he murmured, asking for her consent. [Y/n] just nodded and groaned before passing out again.
Lucifer sighs in relief, snapping his fingers together to remove her dress and changed her into something comfortable and appropriate. A light pink satin pajamas. He lifted up her shirt and Lucifer had to cover his mouth.
So much concentrated negative energy is present on her wound, a wound that is located at the left side of her waist.
Lucifer swallows the lump of nothing in his throat, he sits on the empty spot of his bed. He'll worry later, he needs to heal her as fast as he can. Placing his hand above her wound, hovering slightly. A golden aura radiates from the palm of his hand.
No wonder she's so exhausted, it's taking so long to heal this wound. He thought, exerting more energy into healing her. His eyebrows furrowed as he maintained his concentration, making sure his power flows directly into his hand.
Slowly and surely, her wound began to close in. Lucifer could feel the exhaustion creeping in, the concentrated negative energy making the healing process much more harder.
No wonder she was so exhausted, she must've tried healing herself before coming here. He thought to himself.
With a gasped, the wound finally closed and healed itself. It felt like his life was sucked out of him after healing her.
He sighs, his eyes softening as his gaze landed on her sleeping form. She no longer had that pained expression on her face after healing her and he's glad. He's glad to be able to at least help her and not cause her pain for once. He gently lifts her hand and pressed a chaste kiss at her knuckle before bringing it back down again to her side.
He tucks her underneath the blanket, making sure she's comfortable.
He left her side once more, this time, promising that he'll be back. He just needed to help his daughter. He'll be back before she wakes up.
“Luci...? Please don't leave me again...” she whispers in her sleep, snuggling into his warm blanket. Lucifer's eyes watered, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes.
“I'll be back before you know it, I'll see you soon, [Y/n].” he whispers before teleporting away in specks of red and golden dust.
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Meanwhile, in heaven.
“YOU LEFT MY MOTHER BEHIND?!” Xavier growled, pissed. He glares at Adam, the first man. Annoyed that the man left his mother with his father, THE MAN WHO LEFT HER FOR ANOTHER WOMAN!
“Look, your mom was clearly pissed off and I don't want to face her wrath. I can tell that that woman is holding so much anger inside her and just waiting to blow up.” Adam says nonchalantly, a sigh escaping his lips, shrugging.
Xavier wanted to rip his own hair in frustration. He is beyond worried, he just found out that his mother would be taking care whatever bullshit is happening in hell and she's been gone for hours now! Adam and the exorcists' arrived back in heaven three hours ago and there is still no sign of his mother.
He's worried, he knows his mother has just gotten out of work from the mortal realm and went straight down to hell to fix whatever damage Adam and the exorcists' did.
“Fuck this, I'm going down there and look for her.” Xavier says with a sigh, annoyed at Adam for being good for nothing.
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TAGLIST I:
@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyreality @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby
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sailoryooons · 3 months
Text
I am going to say something that has really been bothering me that not everyone may agree with, which is totally okay, everyone is entirely valid to disagree with me: There is a fast fashion problem in fandom, specifically fanfiction.
Disclaimer: This conversation is not about broadly writing the same tropes, genres, and ideas. I am not talking about people writing fics with similar themes or the same name. I am specifically talking about people writing fics that are very obviously heavily influenced by other fics. This is not me talking about: I wrote __ character as enemies to lovers vampires and so did this person so they stole. Please do not trivialize this conversation with instances that are very obviously not what I'm talking about.
As someone who exists in the fanfiction space, I want to express what I have seen specifically in this space in my own experience, my mutuals experiences, and random experiences I have seen on my dash.
Recently, it seems like there is a reoccurring theme of writers (often new writers) taking "inspiration" from fanfics that they love and value and essentially creating their own version of that story to the point it is bordering on plagiarism. I say bordering on plagiarism because while people may not be copying line for line or entire scenes in order, you can tell that it is a re-arranged duplicate of another story.
I am not talking about writing similar tropes and dynamics. No one owns a trope or a dynamic. I am specifically talking about people taking the plots, scenes, concept and core of fanfics and recreating it and changing some plot elements or placing it in a different alternate universe and calling it their own, when at the heart of that fanfic, it is taken from someone else's creation.
This to me, reads like people who read a work, fall in love with it, but think 'this is easy to do, I can do this myself' and they end up making a replica of a fic that you can tell is a replica of another fic, despite adding some changes. Nine times out of ten, these inspired fics lack the obvious thought and heart the original writer put into it.
Which, begs the question: How is this different than fanfic writers taking inspiration from media (i.e. published books, movies, music, shows)? Because fanfiction is meant to replicate a specific something from published media. It is not meant to duplicate an already established fanfiction contribution.
I know that the nuance between that line is very ambiguous and it brings up the discourse on 'should there be fanfiction of fanfiction' - to which my response is it is, generally, pretty obvious what the difference between being inspired by a fic and copying a fic are.
In the last few months, I have lost count of how many times I or mutuals have a) discovered someone has been writing a story based off of their fic 2) have been asked to use an already written work to make their own or 3) already have started writing works modeled after an already written work and in hindsight asked the author if they could keep doing so (this third instance almost always happens after someone accuses them of stealing another work).
This feels like the fast fashion industry. Someone finds a story that is popular (whatever that means to the individual), takes all of the elements they think makes the story works, rearranges it, posts it as their own and and says they were 'inspired' (if they credit the original story at all).
This is why so many works that readers are coming across feel like they are the same thing. It is the same A + B + C = D over and over and over again, because people are outright just taking what they think works from other stories and using it.
Again - I am not talking about people who come across a trope, AU, genre or dynamic they like and add something similar to their story. I am talking about the people who are very intentionally and obviously writing the same exact fic with their own 'twist' (whatever that means).
Why is this a problem (beyond the fact that it's essentially roundabout plagiarism)? You're taking the heart, soul, and creativity someone poured into something and posting it on your own and robbing it of the originality, the essence, and the intention behind it. You cannot replicate a writer's feelings and obvious emotions that they have poured into the original work, and it shows. And it is gutting to the original authors who are finding remixes of their work across the fanfiction space.
Please consider whether or not you are inspired by a story or if you are redoing it in your own image. If you find yourself worried enough about your story that you feel like you have to publicly credit someone to avoid scrutiny, perhaps the question needs to be asked of whether you're just redoing what someone else already wrote.
Please do not confuse inspiration and recreation. 9 out of 10 authors will love that they inspired you to write, but would not love to find that you wrote a fic inspired by them that is a rearranged or hollowed-out version of the fic they wrote.
The fanfic space wants and needs more writers, but it does not need people unwilling to create their own art, instead taking bits and pieces from others and calling it a success.
Also adding: This problem also directly contributes to 'smaller' writers or more niche (often queer and bipoc) stories not getting the hype, readership, or recognition they deserve. On more than one occasion I've seen stories that had explicitly queer or bipoc characters taken and turned into heteronormative or white-presenting stories.
Note: This 1000% goes for actual visual art as well, including gifs etc. in fandom but I'm not well-versed there and thus, did not include it.
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theblueflower05 · 1 year
Text
Just a Little Taste
A/N: Welp. Somehow my breeding/breastfeeding kinks manifested themselves into a story. I wrote this sky high on painkillers and I am a little in love with the whole premise. @tiredmamaissy -I hope more than anything that you enjoy this. You deserve all of the goodness on this site. Your Masterlist is my personal spank bank lol
Word Count: 3k+
Warnings: This story is Filthy. Smut with very little plot. Breastfeeding. Pussy Eating. Slight mommy kink if you squint. Very pregnant reader getting pleasured, because pregnant beings can still be sexual. Aged up!Neteyam
You are responsible for cultivating your own online experience, please do not interact if any of these tags are triggering to you. Minors DNI.
Summary: You’re eight months pregnant with Neteyams child, and after a long day, you both need a little relief. Neteyam x Human! Reader
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"Sugar, Honey, Iced Tea
Bumble-bee on the scene.
Yeah, I'd give up my bakery to have a piece of your pie"
- See You Again, Tyler the Creator ft Kali Uchis
Life in the village is always busy. Constantly bustling with life and movement as everyone; human scientist, Avatar and Na’vi alike, rush to keep things afloat.
High Camp is so different then Home Tree had been, the rage of war adding a constant edge to long days and restless nights. You miss the comfort of a slow life, of hazy days down in the jungle. The jagged cliffs of the Hallelujah Mountains still don’t quite feel like home to you.
Still, you go about your daily duties.
Being a Pandoran raised human had always given you a different insight, the two massively different cultures you we’re brought up in clashing and mending to create a skill set that was like no other- it had taken many years of painful trial and error to find your place within the Omiticaya, but healing had always come naturally.
Both holistic and surgical alike. You’d spent years shadowing Mo’at and learning the ancient herbal ways of the people, while well as taking advantage of the many PHD toting scientist back at Hell’s Gate. Medicine had no boundaries, was a way for you to feel close to both sides of yourself. To broach the gap between human and clansman.
You find your skills being needed more than ever. The ever constant raids against the RDA means your hands are rarely idle, forever in movement as you tend to the wounded. Some days you sit in the big Healers Tent with Mo’at and the other Taskarem, and others you’re in the makeshift Medi Bay, which is really more of an Avatar Pod Trailer turned OR, with the handful of human surgeons.
The long hours spent on your feet leave you sore and exhausted, but you have to pull your weight.
Even if said weight is far heavier than usual as of late-
“Y/N” you’re broken out of your thoughts by Max- as he enters the trailer with a holo-tab in hand and a concerned look in his dark eyes “What are you still doing here?”
“I was just finishing up inventory- our antibiotic stock is back way up. Jake was right, those helicopter raids were more than worth it” you’d sorted out the tiny vials of vital medicine by hand, not wanting any to be misplaced or mislabeled.
“You don't think maybe you should head home?” He continues and you sigh.
You miss your tent, and the soft bed of furs that lay inside the secure warm flaps. And the man that waits for you inside of the patchwork leather walls-
“I’m fine” you assure. And really, you are.
It's a fact you have to keep reminding people of.
Yes, you’re as big as a Strumbeast, but you are no less competent. No less able bodied.
Pregnancy is one of the most natural parts of life, a base staple in all’s existence. There are plenty of pregnant Omiticaya women who were expected to play their roles, even as the battle raged outside the safety of the mountain cave system.
It was the nature of your pregnancy that was more…fragile then average. Inside your womb grew a child that would be the first of it’s kind. A scientific mystery: no one had even known it was possible for Na’vi and humans to procreate.
And yet all of the evidence now lies under your shirt. Your stomach round and pronounced, full of growing life.
Full of the love between you and the Olo’eyktan’s eldest son.
Neteyam had left his permanent mark on you. Had part of himself growing inside of you. The thoughts we’re enough to make your knees buckle if you focused on them too hard.
“You’ve been here since 6am, you really should get some rest. Take one of the empty bunks if you want. Have you checked your blood pressure-”
You’re a grown woman. You’re not going to huff and puff and roll your eyes, but fuck, do you want to.
Everyone was so overbearing lately.
Norm and Max we’re constantly breathing down your neck; “The baby has a different growth rate then a human child, we need to monitor the way that your body is responding” Followed closely by Jake who watches you with sharp eagle like eyes and Neytiri, who used to all but ignore your presence, constantly checking in on you throughout the day. Mo’at’s always poking and prodigy, and Kiri almost always has her hands on you in some way shape or form.
You are glad for the support, happy that this baby would be so loved.
But really, you missed being treated like the competent, independent woman you knew you we’re.
“My blood pressure is fine. I thought since we ruled out preeclampsia we weren’t going to worry about it anymore” you know that it’s not going to silence his worry, but still. You can try.
Max goes on one of his science mambo jumbo spiels, and by the end of it you’re waddling out of the lab and back to your hut, annoyed as shit but placating your pseudo father figure all the same. Only a month and a half mor of this and then things could go back to normal.
Everything had just…changed so quickly.
You 're a caretaker by nature. Caring for others is easy, feels right. You’d tucked the much older scientists into bed when you we’re just a pre-teen. Made dinners. Looked out for Spider and the other Sully’s-
And the role reversal still didn't quite sit right with you. Your control freak ways didn't do well with not being the one in charge- you’d been stripped of your title so to speak. You we’re supposed to relax into your new role, enjoy being doted over before the nine month’s we’re over.
You and Neteyam’s shared tent is in the centered in the cave, close to his families, but standing on its own. As private as anyone could get in the busy, close quartered camp. The walls of the hut are familiar, adorned with your combined belongings. Cozy and familiar.
You shimmy free of your confining bra, step out of your cargo pants, then toe off your boots, releasing your swollen sock covered feet with a groan before collapsing into your well loved bed, the soft blankets and familiar scent of your mate lulling you into a deep state of peace.
It’s kind of wild how quickly you can fall asleep these days. Growing a little person from scratch tends to burn a lot of energy and the moment you relax, you’re out like a light.
You don't wake up, even when the horns are sounded for the return of the War Party.
Not when Neteyam makes his way through the camp and enters the tent. He’s wearty, grime covered and hunched over. He only softens when he sees you, tucked safely, into his bed. Your eyes still closed and face still scrunched up as he strips out of his battle band and shin covers. He’s quiet, washing off with the large freshwater basin in the corner before making his way over to his much-missed bed mat.
It isn't until he's crawled under the blankets and wiggled his way as close to you as possible that you begin to stir. His large cat like snout nuzzles into the vulnerable crevice of your neck, chuffing hot breaths against the smooth skin.
You’re not upset at him for waking you up, a drowsy half alert smile stretches over your lips as your hands run up his strong back. Gently working the tense muscles.
He gets so greedy when he comes back from the War runs. He needs to be comforted, to be held and you are all too willing to comply.
Everyone else infantiles you now, and yeah, Neteyam could get a little intense and overprotective, but your relationship had always worked because you were the one person in all of Pandora that babied the future chief.
He was such a sweet man, with so much responsibility on his plate. You loved nothing more than holding him in your arms. Letting him release any and all tension because you had him. You, a tiny soft skinned human, were the barrier between him and the ruthless world.
You’d be such a great mother to his children. His hind brain purrs at the thought. That even through all of the controversy, he knows he’d chosen the right mate. Little and fierce, he hopes the baby is just like you.
“Are you okay?” You ask, tone hushed in the darkness of the tent. The only light coming from the small dying embers of the firepit in the center of the space. Hypnotic shadows dance along the canvas walls and Neteyam's breathing grows shallow as he sinks into it.
The way you smell. The way your heart beats, strong against his cheek. The way your plump body feels so good under his wandering hands. He hadn't been okay, just moments ago. He was delirious, so sick of the fighting that he felt ill with it.
But how could any of those bad feelings exist when he had you waiting for him? Ready to welcome him into your body, your heart, your mind. He doesn't think he could survive without knowing the solace of your love.
“I’m okay, narlor(beauty). Just missed you” he mutters, still trying to dig his face deeper into your skin. He wants to escape inside of you, you chuckle at his futile attempts to mend you both into one entity. His large palms rest against your bloated belly, tenderly and your heart flutters “Missed you both so much”
Being so loved is overwhelming.
You wouldn't have it any other way.
“I missed you, my sweet baby. I missed you all day” you assure him with the words you know he needs to hear. “Our son here thought it would be fun to jump on his sa’nok’s bladder all day. It was like was playing the wokau(pendulum drum) all day long- I spent hours in running back and forth to the bathroom”
Neteyam's laugh is deep and rich. Thoroughly pleased to listen to your stories of your day, eager to hear every minute detail. Desperate to drown out visions of blood and gun smoke with your voice.
“Ah, you have to be nice to your momma, little one” he chastises the bump, raising your shirt over your head, wanting that flimsy barrier gone. His lips trail over the tight skin of your bulging belly as he speaks to his child.
Your son, still safe inside your soft body, knows his fathers voice already. Recognizes that slightly accented cadence, and squirms inside of you happily.
Neteyam usually speaks strictly in Na’vi to your unborn child-
“He needs to know the language of our people, first and foremost”
-he’ll spend hours whispering his mother tongue into your flesh. It always leaves you boneless and shaking. Feeling so special and cared for. Na’vi, though your second language, is familiar to you. You’re fluent in the language- but fuck. The way your mate speaks it is the most beautiful thing. It’s musical, he tells sprawling stories with his colorful words.
There is one English he’s very fond of though. Every time it leaves his plush mouth it makes you grin, sharp. Knowingly.
“Are you gonna be nice to momma, Neteyam?” you question him after a while. His ears quirk, swiveling on his head and his tale flicks once, in obvious excitement.
You know what he’s wanted, ever since he woke you up by nuzzling at your chest. Ever since he peeled off your top and left your heavy breasts bare. Did he think you missed the way his golden gaze would flick to them, eyeing them hungrily.
He needs this as much as you do, but as usual, your sweet boy is too selfless to ask. Won't trouble you with his wants unless you bring it up first.
You reach for his big hand that rests on your belly, and drag it to where you need him. His palm enveloping your tits, the rough callus’s catching on your sensitive nipple just right-
Your pregnancy had been different than regular humanoid pregnancies. Your body worked hard, thrown into overdrive in an attempt to keep up with the fast growing fetus in your womb. You’d started lactating months ago, far earlier then normal. Your breasts firm, full with milk. Ready to feed the child that had not yet come into the world.
At first it had been both painful and embarrassing. You had no child to drink what you were producing and the other breastfeeding women in the tribe we’re hesitant to feed their babies your tawtute(human) milk. Already over emotional due to the hormone change, you’d wept at the fact that you had no one to give what your body readily made.
The fact that you couldn't be a bigger part of your community due to your human heritage, combined with the intense pain that came from having backed up ducts had been too much,
Eventually you’d turned to Neteyam, both your eyes and shirt soaking wet. Begged him to help you. And of course, as always, he did.
It should be awkward, or shameful- but connecting with him on any level is something you cherish. Why would this be any different?
“I’m always nice to you, aren't I, love?” Neteyam gruffs as he gently works at the breast in his hands. Its firm and full of milk, his mouth waters “Do they hurt again?”
“Mhmm” you whine pathetically, and you’re not lying. The skin of your chest is now marred by stretch marks and you’d had to stuff precious, hard to come by toilet paper down your bra all day to keep them from spilling over “They’re so full, Nete”
“Oh” He hums, thumbing at your nipple “Poor momma, I’ll help you. Don't worry” his lips are wet against your skin as he kisses his way to your breast, his tongue peeking out to circle your puffy nipple. A pearlescent drop of milk tops the rosy bud and he groans as it hits his taste buds.
He tells you that you taste good, often. The juices of your pussy, your spit soaked kisses. He’s always been greedy for it, his tongue bullying its way into your holes, desperate for your essence. Your milk is just as delicious as the rest of you.
It quickly goes from kitten licking, wide wet stripes against your pebbled nipple to sucking your big breast as far into his mouth as he could. Careful of his fangs as he gorges himself on your flesh.
He’s loudly appreciative as he suckles on your nipple. Grunting and humming and moaning at the flavor. Your arms come around him, cradling his head to your bosom because it feels so good. Having him this close, knowing that he'd do anything to take care of you. That he truly loved the way you tasted-
Many people thought you and Neteyam would never last. It was lust, they’d claim. Curiosity. A childhood friendship that would fizzle out eventually. Na’vi needed Tsaheylu, it was the lifeblood of all their relationships. Why would the much desired future Olo’eyktan stay with you if he couldn't even properly bond you?
While you couldn't deny that there we’re doubt filled moments that you yourself wondered why he’d chosen you and stayed so loyal to you…you still felt your own form of connection to him. While you’d love to make that sacred bond with him, you didn't feel any less close to your mate.
You never thought that you could be so intertwined with another being.
As Neteyam takes his fill from your breast, you massage the base of his Kuru, firm enough that it makes him hiss. You have no special braid of your own, but he’s always been very free with his when it comes to you.
You can do with as you please. Stroke it. Lick it. Massage it. Hell, he’d even let you touch glowing pink tendrils at the end of it before. Let you feel his exposed nerves, so vulnerable and raw in your hands that he had shed tears as you explored.
Nothing was taboo in your relationship. There was no space undiscovered between you.
Your bodies we’re so very different, and yet you knew his like the back of your hand. All of the strong muscles and hard sinew. The cobalt expanse of his skin didn't have one blemish that you haven't memorized. You could point out his striped pattern in a sea of other Na’vi.
And he knows you right back.
Loves to dig his fingers into your doughy hips, into your pillowy thighs. Your wide ass and ample chest. He loves your form, goes crazy for all of your alien curves. He never cared for your human modesty, he’d wanted to part your ass cheeks and stare at plump of your pussy for as long as he could remember. Wanted to strip you of all of those clothes and just stare.
The fact that he gets to do just that, for the rest of your lives, is his favorite, favorite thing.
You watch him eagerly as he slowly nurses. You can't get enough of the sight of him, his hollowed cheeks, the bob of his throat as he swallows your free flowing milk. He's so strong, his muscles flex in the dim light. All of that strength, and yet he’s so very gentle with you, his rough tongue laving at your sore buds every couple minutes. Soothing and tickling you all the same.
You giggle at a particularly quick swipe, letting out a small squeal as Neteyam’s tongue plays with the flesh in his mouth. His eyes peek open, glittering with mirth and low boiling heat as he meets your gaze. Whin his lips split into a smile, a dribble of translucent white milk escapes. Trickles down from the corners of his lips.
Heat pulses between your legs and you know he can smell how aroused you are.
Neteyam has always been able to turn you on without even trying. A well spoken word, or even a pointed look could get you running your thighs together. All desperate to get him alone and put your hands all over him.
You hate that you cant kiss him the way you want to, your Exo Mask, while necessary to your survival can be suck a fucking menace sometimes.
Your thumb traces his lips, the ones you want pressed against your own so bad. You rub the spilled milk from his chin. Cleaning him up in a way that's so simple, and so beyond erotic.
He breaks eye contact first, like he just can't look at you anymore. His brows all scrunched up, his chest raising and falling rapidly. He releases your sloppy nipple, completely covered in his saliva, and presses his face against the damp skin. Making a sound of distress.
Your fingernails skritch at his scalp, tangled in his many braids “What is it, baby?”
“I wanna fuck you so bad. Eywa, do you even smell yourself, Y/N? So good. I have to-”
“Yeah, yeah, okay” You nod, agreeing blindly. He can have whatever he wants.
“Fuck you hard, though. Gotta pound you. I know I shouldn't but it’ll be alright, huh? Won't hurt the baby?” his face is still buried in your skin, you cant even see his expression as he pleads for your pussy. It makes you so hot.
You push at his chest, needing him to get off of you for just a moment. He’s heavy as shit, a dead weight- doesn't really move until you're pouting and demanding for him to just give you a little space.
Enough that you can wiggle out of your panties and spread your thighs wide for him. Your swollen, sticky pussy on display for your mate.
His nostrils flare, and his thin tail whips wildly behind him.
When he swings your thick thighs up onto his broad shoulders, you let out a low, appreciative moan.
“Such a good boy for momma” you praise him the way the people praise the Great Mother. The cradle of your thighs a sanctuary where you both come to worship.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Welp, I should be finishing up Part Three of First Love/Late Spring or plotting out future installments of The Sweetest Sylaung, but here I am writing nursing filth. Lol I truly have zero regrets, this story was so very self fulfilling(even though it partially came from a request). I hope you guys enjoyed though
As mentioned many times before, requests are currently open. Please send in all that good shit. I could use a good distraction from real life!
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obxologies · 11 months
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a request if u want tooo🥺 i really like dark rafe cameron i need one where he broke up with her because he is scared to love but she walks on weird dudes trying to as*ault her and he just goes crazy because he realises he really love her
𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨  𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯
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warnings: soft dark!rafe cameron, attempted sexual assault (not by rafe), physical violence, (soft?) angst, a little manipulation
requested?: yes
author's note: i actually had an idea similar to this so i added in a little of my own details, i hope you still like it. if you guys want more dark!character fics, i won't stop you from requesting 👀. dividers made by @cafekitsune
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Tanneyhill was overcrowded with teenagers as music blared from every speaker in the house. The back doors were wide open as people went in and out.
Sarah and y/n held hands as they pushed their way to the backyard. Sarah led them to a small area where the could talk alone.
"So, see anyone you like?" Sarah asked y/n as they observed the people around them. "I saw your man from World History inside. What about him?"
"Eh," y/n shrugged uninterested in the boy. "He's cute, but he's unimaginable stupid."
"Okay." Sarah laughed at her. "Well, we need to find you someone. We didn't throw this for not to get laid." She smirked a little making y/n roll her eyes.
Someone cleared their throat behind them. They both turned to see Rafe with Topper and Kelce. y/n rolled her eyes and turned back around while Sarah groaned.
"Why are you here, Rafe?" Sarah asked. "I thought you three were having a sleepover." Rafe rolled his eyes.
"We came back here instead." Rafe shrugged. "Didn't know we'd be crashing a party." He said staring at y/n's back.
"So leave then." Sarah gave him a fake smile and turned back around.
"I think we'll stay actually." Rafe said slowly walking away with Topper and Kelce.
"God, he's annoying." Sarah huffed. "Sorry, he was supposed to be gone until tomorrow." She gave her a 'sorry' smile.
"Don't worry about it." y/n shook her head. "Just help me get to him." She nodded towards a boy who sat by the fire pit with a friend of theirs.
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Rafe leaned against the wall as he watched y/n and the boy she had just met talk on the couch. She was practically sitting on his lap as she threw back her drink. She had clearly had one too many while trying to loosen herself up. Rafe's blood started to boil as the boy's hand moved to her thigh and slowly up.
"Can you not stare at them like a creeper?" Sarah snapped at Rafe. He peeled his eyes away from the scene in front of him. "You broke up with her, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember." Rafe stated through gritted teeth.
"Then why are you stalking her?" Sarah shrugged crossing her arms.
"I'm making sure she's okay." Rafe said. "Do you even know who that guy is?"
"Our friend knows him." Sarah told him. "His name is Cooper."
"Yeah, I know." Rafe huffed. "He's Logan Foreman's younger brother."
"Am I supposed to know who that is?" Sarah furrowed her brows.
"He's an asshole who treats girls like shit." Rafe told her.
"Oh, and you've never mistreated a girl?" Sarah tilted her head at him. "Can you just admit you're jealous and leave them be?" Sarah laughed. "It's pathetic, Rafe."
"Where did they go?" Rafe stood up straight from putting all his weight against the wall.
"Jesus, Rafe! You're like a guard dog." Sarah scoffed before walking away.
Rafe ignored her comment looking around the house for y/n. He whipped his head around and caught a glimpse of y/n drunkenly stumbling down a hallway while Cooper had his hand wrapped around her wrist; dragging her to a guest bedroom. Rafe immediately started pushing people to get to the stairs.
"Rafe! Stop!" Sarah shouted. "You're so controlling!" She hurried after him, wishing everyone would move out of the way.
Rafe cursed under his breath at the, what felt like, unnecessary amount of stairs. For he once he didn't appreciate having such a big house. He pushed open every door most of them, fortunately, being empty. The only door locked was the last one at the end of the hallway. He started banging his fist on the door.
"Someone's in here!" He heard Cooper shouted from inside only adding fuel to the fire.
Rafe stepped back before throwing his body into the door. He huffed and reeled his leg back, kicking the wooden door open. He stomped inside the room seeing Cooper on top of y/n who was confused, attempting to push him off of her.
"Mother Fucker." Rafe spat charging towards Cooper. He grabbed the back of his shirt getting him off of her. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Rafe grabbed him roughly making him face him. "You think I was gonna let you get away with that?"
"She's not your girl anymore, Cameron." Cooper chuckled, but was cut off my Rafe swinging at him. His fist connecting directly to his jaw.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you." Rafe kicked his legs out from underneath him before getting on top of him and beginning to pummel his fist into his face. Cooper's blood poured out of his nose and mouth onto Rafe's fist and the floor.
"Oh my god," Sarah exclaimed seeing Rafe. Topper and Kelce ran into the room going to pull Rafe off of Cooper. "y/n!" She ran to the bed sitting next to her.
"Sarah.." y/n grabbed her hand. Her brain still fuzzy from the liquor, but being more alert now.
"It's me." Sarah nodded. "I'm so sorry. It's gonna be okay." She let y/n lean into her. She wrapped her arms around her tight. Tears welled in her eyes feeling slightly responsible for the situation. "I'm sorry."
y/n only scooted as close to Sarah as she could. The feeling of her arms around her and her hand stroking her head making her feel safe again.
"Rafe! Man, stop!" Topper and Kelce shouted using all their strength to pull Rafe off the boy before he killed him.
Cooper coughed, blooding splashing onto the floor.
The room fell almost completely silent. The only noises being heard was the boys heavy breathing, Cooper's whining, and Sarah's sniffling.
"Get everyone out." Rafe instructed Topper and Kelce. They looked at Sarah who nodded before they walked out the room. "Make sure she's okay." Rafe looked at Sarah. His stare was hard, telling Sarah he was blaming her.
"I will." Sarah nodded.
Rafe grabbed Cooper and pulled him up. The boy groaned and struggled against his grip, but Rafe was still able to drag the boy away.
"I'm so sorry, y/n." Sarah leaned her forehead against hers.
"It's not your fault." y/n whispered. "Just keeping holding me, please."
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y/n laid in Sarah's bed in a pair of comfy clothes she had left before. She stared at the tv not really paying attention to the show as Sarah was in her bathroom showering.
The bedroom door opened making y/n sit up. She relaxed a little upon seeing Rafe. He quietly closed the door as walked over the side of the bed.
"Hi?" y/n said softly. She moved letting her feet hang off the side.
"Are you okay?" Rafe asked sitting beside her.
"Yeah." She nodded looking at him shyly. "Thank you."
"I would never let anyone hurt you." Rafe said. "Together or not. I won't let anyone touch you."
y/n gave him a small smile before looking down at her feet.
"I wanna get back together, baby." Rafe said. He got down on his knees in front of her so her thighs were on either side of him.
"Rafe..." y/n sighed. "You're just saying that because you're worried. You don't love me." She shook her head.
"I love you more than anything else in the world, baby." Rafe grabbed her face in his hands. "I thought letting you go would protect you, but I now know the only way you'll be safest is with me."
"What?" y/n scrunched her brows.
"You can't do things like this anymore. You have to stay with me. You saw what happened tonight when I let you go on your own. What if I wasn't here?" Rafe explained. "You have to stay with me, okay?"
"Okay." y/n nodded slowly.
Rafe smiled getting up off his knees. He leaned down kissing her forehead. "Stay with Sarah tonight. I'll see you in the morning."
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bluriki · 5 months
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christmas special one ❄ snowy nights ﹫ lhs
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ꪆৎ — on a snowy night with you, heeseung decides to confess how much love he has for you ; pair best friend!heeseung x fem!reader ; genre fluff , f2l
your heart beats uncontrollably. being this close to heeseung shouldn't make you feel this nervous but it does. he shouldn't make you feel like your floating on clouds but he does. he makes you feel all things best friends shouldn't make you feel.
1 ) helps you bring in groceries , you're hearts a fluttering mess 2 ) says the most random joke , you're laughing genuinely 3 ) he's staring at you , fire is on your cheeks
so now, you're in each others arms, slow dancing in the snow. it was heeseungs idea, saying it would be so fun to play and dance in the snow. the sun had gone down but the snowflakes were still falling.
soft music was playing from heeseung's phone as you swayed back and forth. you accidentally stepped on his foot causing him to groan. "sorry! i-i'm not good at dancing." you apologized quickly, feeling embarrassed.
"it's okay." you looked up with a smile on your face but the smile got wiped right off when you realized how close you really were to heeseung. his eyes never left yours as he held you close.
"you're really pretty." he whispered softly. your heart pounded in your chest. so hard you though it was gonna come out. but of course you tried playing it cool. "thanks but i already knew that."
heeseung snickered. "did you?" you nodded, trying to mask all the emotions that are flying around in your heart. "did you know you're loved?" you tilted your head in confusion. loved? well yeah, you know you were loved but what was he getting too?
"did you know i love you?" heeseung whispered as if he just wanted you to hear. your heart pounded once again, but this time you were sure he heard it.
"did you know how much i've dreamt of being by your side all day, everyday? did you know that i wanted to put a mistletoe on my door frame so when you come over i could steal a peck? you're lucky sunghoon convinced me not to."
"did you know why i arranged to dance with you while it snow? answer is because im romantic —"
he winked causing you to blush.
"but it's also because i love you. literally more than anyone could imagine. more than sunghoon could imagine and believe me he hears about it all the time. sometimes at 3 am. but that's because you're on my mind every single day, hour, minute, second. i love you so much it hurts that i cant confess to you, but it looks like it just did."
you were speechless. you didn't know what to say. it was like he read your mind because you had felt everything he felt. possibly even more.
"i love you too." you whispered. your mind was a mess. no words could really describe you how your felt this very moment, but one thing was for sure, you love heeseung too.
"i really do." you add on. you were still in his arms, looking as fragile as ever. so many things you wanted to say but only three words could really describe how your felt. "i love you."
heeseungs smiled. his eyes sparkled in the night as you told him you felt the same. your confession wasnt as great at his but it was perfect to him. more perfect than he could ever imagine.
"you know, i ran this scene through my mindso many times but it's way better than i thought."
you giggle and lean closer to his chest. "i'm glad you confessed first." he smiled and held you closer. the chill of the night fell in and it was time to go home.
"do me a favor and put that mistletoe up when you get home." you whispered against his shoulder. heeseung laughed, kissing your cheek softly.
🎬 노트 && . special thanks to yena ( @in2fly ) for giving me this idea when i was stuck!! i love you saur much!!
🧷 perm tl && . send ask or comment to be added
📋 series tl && . @in2fly @reader69sviewpoint @nhularin
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convolutedblasphemy · 2 months
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I wasn't shitting you guys btw I actually made the one-sided radiostatic playlists
here is my lyrical masterpiece. both the vox version and the alastor one. done my best to make it as lyrically accurate as possible. @styrofauxm @onesidedradiostatic i hope you enjoy this (go check out the full lyrics for the songs on google if you can't listen to it but i recommend it because all of these are bangers) feat. my stupid commentary and vox's pathetic wet cat energy
Click to listen to the Vox one on YouTube
1. the hearse — matt maeson
thought this one fit so well lyrically. the "what was it like to feel in love" part i interpreted as vox asking himself that rather than alastor
❞ i am the man we both couldn't stand, i can't wash off the dirt from my hands, what was it like to feel in love? [...] i will never go backwards, i will never be free, i will never run faster; will you sink down to me? ❝
2. i'm just ken — ryan gosling
i'm not even adding lyrics to this one, everyone should have seen the barbie movie and this song at this point. this just HAD to be in there. can you feel the kenergy?
3. too many friends — placebo
less about alastor, more about vox's existential crisis
❞ my computer thinks I'm gay, i threw that piece of junk away on the champs-elysées as I was walking home. this is my last communique, down the superhighway. all that I have left to say in a single tome... ❝
4. creep — radiohead
i mean isn't this literally his theme song?
❞ when you were here before... couldn't look you in the eye. you're just like an angel. your skin makes me cry. you float like a feather in a beautiful world. i wish I was special. you're so fuckin' special. but I'm a creep, i'm a weirdo, what the hell am I doin' here? ❝
5. where evil grows — the poppy family
y'all seen the sonic movie? we need to see vox do that dance.
❞ i like the way you smile at me, i felt the heat that enveloped me and what i saw i liked to see. i never knew where evil grew. i should have steered away from you, my friend told me to keep clear of you but something drew me near to you ❝
6. one of us — ava max
i had to edit this one a bit in the video and cut out the part about the kissing because that for sure didn't happen
❞ one of us would die for love; one of us would give it up. one of us would risk it all; one of us won't even call. one of us could say goodbye, never even bat an eye... ❝
7. colorblind — amber riley
more pathetic wet cat energy brought to you by yours truly
❞ i don't think that i'll ever find that silver lining or reason to smile. you know i used to paint such vibrant dreams, now I'm colorblind, colorblind. when did my heart get so full of never mind, never mind? did you know that you stole the only thing I needed? ❝
8. arcade — duncan lawrence
more pathetic wet cat energy brought to you by yours truly
❞ a broken heart is all that's left. i'm still fixing all the cracks. lost a couple of pieces when i carried it, carried it, carried it home. i've spent all of the love I saved. we were always a losing game; small town boy in a big arcade, i got addicted to a losing game... all i know, all i know: loving you is a losing game. ❝
9. if i can't have you — skylar astin
i picked the version from zoey's extraordinary playlist on purpose because the context of this scene is that the dude who sings it hires a bunch of singers and dancers to confess in a public space as you, the viewer, sit there and cringe at him as he gets rejected. if that doesn't have vox energy, i don't know what does.
❞ i'm good at keepin' my distance (lie), i know that you're the feelin' I'm missing. you know that I hate to admit it but everything means nothin' if I can't have you. i can't write one song that's not about you, can't drink without thinkin' about you. is it too late to tell you that everything means nothing if I can't have you? ❝
10. do you want me (dead)? — all time low
when vox asks himself whether alastor wants him or wants him dead it's definitely the second option.
❞ i let it ride on a bet, i doubled down on a sinking ship; need a second to catch my breath: do you want me? or do you want me dead? oh, give it up for at least a second; i'm getting sick of your bullshit attitude and how you walk around like you shine brighter, it's killing me, so what do you say? do you want me? or do you want me dead? ❝
11. push — ryan gosling
i can't just put one musical number from the barbie movie in and not include the other one that fits equally as well.
❞ said, i don't know if I've ever been good enough. i'm a little bit rusty and I think my head is cavin' in. and I don't know if I've ever been really loved by a hand that's touched me, and I feel like something's got to give and I'm a little bit angry, well, this ain't over, no, not here, no; not while I still need you around. ❝
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Ice-cold rejection & vicious mockery: Alastor's version
the contrast of this is the best part.
Click here to listen to the Alastor one on YouTube
1. little big boy — madds buckley
he doesn't go easy on him. this is 0 compassion and 100% roast.
❞ brimstone fire and eyes aglow, little big boy's making the whole world know his name. raised on pillars and shining lights, breathing smoke for the right to keep his place. never satisfied 'till they all see how big this little boy can be. well the water's rising; tide's comin' in. does little big boy know how to swim in a pond filled with fish bigger than him? ❝
2. i help you hate me — sunrise avenue
he's so helpful fr but it's not working unfortunately
❞ i broke many hearts throughout my days. yours was the hardest one to face. though, I've never been a saint, i still love you every day, just not the lover kind of way. i know you wanna see me falling out, falling out the window. i know you wanna see me crashing down, crashing with my plane. baby, i'm way too young to die but I'll help you get over me. ❝
3. no surprise — daughtry
this is one of my favorite bands, i'm glad i got to include this.
❞ it came out like a river once i let it out when i thought that i wouldn't know how. held onto it forever just pushing it down, felt so good to let go of it now. not wrapping this in ribbons, shouldn't have to give a reason why: it's no surprise i won't be here tomorrow, i can't believe that I stayed 'til today. there's nothing here in this heart left to borrow. there's nothing here in this soul left to save. don't be surprised when we hate us tomorrow. ❝
4. go screw yourself — avery
i can picture him 1:1 delivering a swing version of this when vox confesses to him
❞ i know i've been holding it in, the way i feel about you. something i've been dying to say but I don't know how you'll take it; oh please don't go; you should know these three words i've been holding back; trying to fight, i'mma let 'em out... these three words, gotta let you know, here I go: go screw yourself. i've had enough, yeah, now we're done. ❝
5. the audacity — emelyn
this one's such a bop honestly. had to cut it in the video because i can't picture alastor realistically crying over anything vox-related.
❞ think your opinions should be broadcast... even though no one's subscribing, listening or liking but by all means, keep whining. must be tough if life's so rough. you should buy a mic, start a podcast, even though, wait, nobody asked. [...] where do all these men find the audacity? no actually, i'm stunned by your stupidity. ❝
6. friends — halocene
this one had to be on here.
❞ have you got no shame? you're looking insane turning up at my door. it's two in the morning, the rain is pouring, haven't we been here before? [...] so don't go look at me with that look in your eye, you really ain't going away without a fight. you can't be reasoned with, i'm done being polite. i've told you one, two, three, four, five, six thousand times. haven't I made it obvious? haven't I made it clear? want me to spell it out for you? f-r-i-e-n-d-s ❝
7. can't catch me now — olivia rodrigo
he likes the attention def especially after his return
❞ bet you thought i'd never do it, thought it'd go over my head. i bet you figured i'd pass with the winter, be somethin' easy to forget. oh, you think i'm gone 'cause i left but i'm in the trees, i'm in the breeze, my footsteps on the ground. you'll see my face in every place but you can't catch me now. through wading grass, the months will pass, you'll feel it all around. i'm here, i'm there, i'm everywhere but you can't catch me now ❝
8. take a hint — victoria justice & elizabeth gillies
this is on every rejection playlist and it's gonna be on mine too. a bop even after all these years.
❞ ask me for my number, yeah, you put me on the spot. you think that we should hook up, but I think that we should not. you had me at "hello", then you opened up your mouth and that is when it started going south. [...] what about "no" don't you get? so go and tell your friends i'm not really interested. it's about time that you're leavin', i'm gonna count to three and open my eyes and you'll be gone ❝
9. no — madilyn bailey & megan nicole
more rejection for y'all. the world needs more mean aroaces and this playlist is my contribution.
❞ first you gonna say you ain't runnin' game, thinking i'm believing every word; call me beautiful, so original, telling me I'm not like other girls, i was in my zone before you came along, now i'm thinking maybe you should go ❝
10. oh no — marina and the diamonds
a classic.
❞ don′t do love, don't do friends; i′m only after success. don't need a relationship, i'll never soften my grip [...] i know exactly what i want and who i want to be. i know exactly why i walk and talk like a machine. i'm now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy. ❝
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Reblogs are appreciated!
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coeurify · 11 months
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i cant find this req for some reason but here is a ss i took of it.. enjoy ! 18+
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Abby was the best roommate. Really. She was kind, always cleaned up after herself, was respectful, and just so quiet.
Abby would likely say the same thing about you, a slight grin on her face as she spoke to one of her friends about how lucky she had gotten with you, and how her friend agreeing to move in with her had been just an oh so perfect decision. How sweet and lovely you were to live with. Her pink lips wet as her tongue licked over them, quieter confessions about how attractive she found you usually followed. Not that she would ever admit that to you, however.
Nor would you divulge the information of just how many times you had shoved your face into a friend’s pillow as you rattled on about how good Abby looked when she came home from the gym, how badly you wanted to be the one she was always leaving the apartment to go see.
Neither of you minded the soft touches when you passed each other, the quiet breaths on your shared couch that always came when one of you pressed a little too close during movie night. In fact, Abby would even go out on a thin tree limb to say you both enjoyed toeing the line between platonic roommate activity and something more.
Most everything about this living situation was just perfect. Except for a tiny problem.
The painted white walls always held a certain hum to them. Whether it be music you tried your best to keep low.. or Abby watching a movie. It always sunk between the foundation between your rooms, echoing the covered walls in a way that had become clear very soon into moving in with your friend. The walls were so incredibly thin, but you thought you had adapted.
Abby always disappeared into her room early most nights, unless you asked otherwise. By midnight on most days, the walls fell utterly silent, aside from a few creaks of Abby’s bed. The night had become your saving grace, the only time you didn’t have to worry about your roommate hearing anything.
Usually.. she didn’t. Tonight, however, the story was completely different.
It didn’t really matter how you had ended up here. Maybe Abby came home with a little extra confidence after the gym today, smiling and leaning over you at the table, questioning what book you had your nose dug into, large arm on full display for you. Maybe Abby sat a little too close during the movie you watched, and stared at you a little too hard during certain scenes.
By this point, you couldn’t even remember what had gotten you to this current place. Your door cracked open, letting in the breeze that came from the air conditioner in the living room, the only solace to your sticky hot skin. Your thighs draped lazily around your favorite pillow, clenching around the soft pink cloth as you ground down into it. The pretty black lace of your panties acting as an added friction for your heated core as you moved your hips against the material. Your mouth gaped open, panting as you let out the softest moans you could muster, sweat shining in the furrowed space between your brows.
On any other day, you would have gone undetected. But tonight, of all nights, Abby found herself in a long battle with sleep.
She had tried every method known to mankind to rest, the early morning ahead a perfect candidate for why she should be squeezing her eyes closed the moment the clock on her bedside flashed the numbers “2:35 am” on the digital screen.
But now? Now Abby was thankful for three things, despite this sleepless frustration.
One, she was happy she wasn’t tired suddenly. Two, she was so fucking delighted the walls of this apartment were thin. And three? Abby was just purely ecstatic that you didn’t know at all how to keep quiet.
Abby tried to be a kind roommate at first. She pressed further away from the wall when she heard the first few soft grunts on the other side of the wall. Hell, Abby even put on headphones and began scrolling through her playlists to find a good set of songs so she didn’t invade your privacy like that.
But the moment she found her finger hovering over the blue-lit screen to begin a song, she heard it.
The softest, whiny calling of her name she had ever heard. It rang straight through the white paint, right over the posters plastered there, and settled sweetly in her ear.
You were moaning her name.
Though she couldn’t see it, her imagination could only assume what you may be doing. What her sweet roommate was doing to herself thinking of her.
If she could see it, your quivering lip, open and panting Abby’s name, again, Abby may have died on the spot. If the blonde could bear witness to the wet spot that dripped through the fabric of your panties and onto the plush pillow... Well, she would have taken you right there.
All Abby had, however, was her imagination, just as you did. Though neither knew the fantasies that plagued both of your minds muddled together just a bit too much.
“Abby,” you whine into the quiet air, a mouth full of saliva— causing another choked sound as you swallow it down, hips pressing further into your pillow. You imagined it was her hands on your hips, leading all of your rushed and messy movements against the fabric.
You squeezed your eyes shut and did your best to paint the picture of the pillow being the blonde’s thigh, that your trembling hands were actually gripping the flesh of Abby’s shoulders as she urged you to keep going. You could almost pick out her tone of voice perfectly, a tape om loop in your mind of her urging you to keep going, ‘c’mon sweetheart... there you go, angel,’ she would whisper against you, lips pressing to your skin just so softly. If you held your breath long enough, you could almost hear it.
Abby, on the other side of the wall, did her very best not to stand straight up out of bed and let her feet find your door. This proved itself a difficult request for both her mind and body when your sounds sped up, growing louder and louder against her very honed in eardrums.
The blonde rubbed her eyes, hands aching to grab something very different. Maybe the fat of your thigh as she pressed them open, leaving you all out in the open for her to admire. Maybe the palm of her hand slapped over your mouth as she pulled you closer to her, humming near your cheek that you needed to, ‘Be quiet for me, doll. You know how thin these walls are, don’t want our neighbors to hear, right?’ She even imagined them pressed impossibly far between your legs, fingers so deep into your aching cunt that one curl would have you gushing around her digits.
Though that night, neither of your nighttime fantasies came to fruition. You had climbed off your poor pillow one mindblowing orgasm later, thighs shaking as you made quick work of cleaning your mess.
Abby stayed silent as possible until you fell asleep, and dug her own hands down into her pants— someone, and some noises specifically in mind.
(random cut off sorry uhh p2?)
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lunargrapejuice · 23 days
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the other part to this ask, i'm aching after writing this - i am down bad and he deserves all the love
"i will never let you go." | sephiroth x reader with no pronouns used
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you hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until the doors of the training room opened and you finally let it out when you see a familiar tall figure standing in the distant simulated sunset. the relief of the air leaving your lungs nearly making your knees give way. 
you couldn’t quite explain what had made you need to find sephiroth right at this moment; if it was your heart feeling the call of his or if it was entirely your own needing to be in his proximity for selfish reasons but when he hadn’t answered his phone and you couldn’t find him around his normal spots around the soldier office, knowing he wasn’t on a mission right now, the urgency to find him only grew.
“i should have known you’d be here,” you break the silent scene that’s set out before you when you’re only a few steps away from him, noting how he either hadn’t heard you enter or knew it was you and continued to leave himself vulnerable, ready to receive your company.
the expression he wears when he turns to meet your gaze makes you feel like it’s the latter. 
“hello darling,” he reaches for you as soon as you’re close enough, long leather covered fingers gliding down the skin of your arm gently, your hand instinctively relaxing to make room for the lacing of your fingers.
bright and brilliant green eyes behind dark lashes study your face as if searching for something, thin pupils dilating when your eyes meet his and you can’t help but smile at the way your heart flutters under his tender gaze. he seems to find what he’s looking for then, more than content with whatever he saw, and returns to looking in front of him, overlooking the vast sea that lays before the junon cannon with you now by his side.
sephiroth can still feel your eyes on him and from what he can see from the corner of his eye, the look on your face is an adorably curious one and paired with the comfort of your hand in his, it makes him want to present himself as an open book to you. it's something he’s still getting used to but he was also learning that sometimes words didn’t need to be said for you to sooth his aching chest.
it’s comfortably quiet between you, the world frozen in time, the sunset never ending and nearly as beautiful as what you’re sure is the real thing. you almost hate to interrupt it but what you have to say can’t be held back for a moment longer.
stepping in front of him, he looks down at you and your eyes meet at the same moment he feels your palm against his cheek, radiating with warmth and holding him like he’s something precious. your other hand leaves his grasp to do the same and the expression you wear makes it look as though you’re holding the entire world in your hands and for you, that is nothing short of the truth.
his strong hands find purchase on your hips, his grip on you starting light but grows tighter with each slow second that passes, like you might slip away from him if he didn’t keep adding just a bit more pressure while still handling you with care.
the pads of your fingers smooth over his cheek, taking in how soft his pale skin is and how warm and dusted pink it gets under your affections. “i love you,” it’s not the first time you’ve shared those words with him but each time you say them you feel it even more, past the point of what you thought love was capable of. 
placing his hand over yours, his eyes flutter closed and in the tilt of his head, silver locks spill over his broad shoulder as he kisses your palm before replying, letting his words seep into your skin, deep and true. “i love you too.”
many would find it takes mighty strength to move shinras strongest soldier but for you, with the most gentle of pulls you’re able guide his face to yours, standing on your toes to reach his lips and capture him in a sweet kiss. his hands on you tighten with the movement of your lips, the one on your hip pulling you closer to him and he deepens the kiss when he feels your body almost completely flushed against his. 
you could stay here forever with your lips pressed perfectly to his warm and slightly chapped ones, just enough to tell you how special it is to be kissing him, and maybe you do. there’s no telling how much time passes in this place, kiss after kiss, before you’re forced to stop, in need of air. 
when you break away from him, you can’t bear to go far and instead rest your forehead on his as you both take in breath after quiet breath. silver strands of hair take up the world around you, like a curtain of sheer starlight that lets through twinkles of the golds and pink of the sunset. 
“sephiroth, i..” you’re at a loss of words and breath and not just from your kiss swollen lips. right now no words you know feel like they’re enough to describe what you want to say or how you will undoubtedly continue to feel about him with the same intensity of a comet burning through the night sky. when you do find your words again, they’re not enough but it’s what you feel the most in this moment and you mean them with your whole being, hoping he feels the truth of it. “i will never let you go.”
your words, your spoken desire to keep him beside you, something he once would have not dared to dream to have, both start his heart and stop it completely. his chest is full of so many consuming emotions he doesn’t know where one stops and the next starts or which he feels more intensely. all he knows is that at the center of it all is you and he has no intention of letting you go either.
“never.” he declares against your lips. it’s a muddled mixture of pure love and his own possessiveness over you that laces his tone and coats his lips like a spiced honeyed elixir, the taste of it addicting on your tongue and seeping straight to your heart.
♡♡♡♡♡
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houseofripley · 29 days
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HII
Could you write a rhea x fem!reader where they are at a scare house with a bunch of friends and reader is a big scaredy-cat and clings onto rhea the whole time and all of them end up in a maze but rhea and reader get lost and separated from the group and reader is terrified so rhea tried to cheer her up with some make-out time and hugging and reassurance(maybe some smut there or when they get back home🤷‍♀️)
Scared?
Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader
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WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, Publix Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Mommy Kink
WORD COUNT: 1,613
A/N: I AM ALIVE SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING!!!! im on spring back so hopefully i'll actually have some freetime now
“No wait, I don’t think I can do it,” you jittered, your anxieties shaking through your body as you stood next in line to enter a dingy barn that was quite literally in the middle of nowhere.
After weeks of begging your partner Rhea to be the hugh hefner to your playboy bunny she agreed under one condition; that you’d go to the scare attraction she had been talking about non-stop. At first you were ready to scrap your matching costume idea altogether but after some reassurance from Rhea that your friends would be there you reluctantly agreed. 
“You are not backing out on us now!” Your friends started throwing playful teases at you.
“Don’t be a wimp, it won’t even be that bad,” 
Rhea wrapped her arm around your waist as she added to the taunts, “My little scaredy-cat,”
“I am not a scaredy-cat! I just don’t like having clowns chase me with machetes,” you attempted to defend yourself.
“That’s totally something a scaredy-cat would say,”
The attendant at the entrance signaled for your group to enter the building. You let a few of your friends enter before hesitantly entering, making sure you were in the middle of the group. Stepping inside a thick layer of faux fog clouded your vision while strobe lights beamed through the hazed air. “I wanna go home,” you raised your voice so your group could hear you over the loud ambiance and scream of others further down the path. 
You braced your hands in front of you in self-defense as you made your way through a flashing corridor. Rounding the corner you were immediately jumpscared by a bloodied woman hopping through a curtain, making you back up into Rhea as you let out a scream. 
Rhea let out a laugh as one of her hands took grip of your waist, giving the skin a light squeeze. “I got you,” Rhea chuckled as she spoke just loud enough for you to hear her. 
Your group of friends continued through the scenes of the attraction with plenty of jumpscares and many more screams before eventually being chased out of the building into the second half of the attraction, a haunted corn maze. 
You hesitantly followed your bunch of friends on the paths, your hand clinging to Rhea’s. It wasn’t long until your crowd was deep into the maze. By the time your eyes had hardly adjusted to the darkness you were soon caught off guard by a group of actors emerging from the corn stalks, causing you to dart further into the field.
“Oh my god I can’t see anything,” you yelled, too focused on running away from the bloodied men, you and Rhea wound up split from your group getting lost along the trail.
-
It had been fifteen minutes since the two of you last saw your friends and ten minutes since a scare actor popped up, your nerves were growing by the second knowing it was only a matter of time before another actor would find you. The grip you had on Rhea’s hand had to have been cutting off her circulation at that point. 
“Look at me, pretty girl,” Rhea spoke, her tone of voice was soft, “you’ll always be safe with me, you know that I’d never let anyone touch you,” she assured. You couldn’t help but look up at her with a soft smile, her reassurance sending ease to your foggy mind.
Rhea’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug before she dropped her lips against yours. You melted into her embrace as you squeezed your hands around her stiffened biceps. 
“As much as I’d love to kiss you forever, I’d love to get out of this damn maze as soon as possible,” you giggled, pulling back from her lips after a moment before continuing your way through the trails.
-
“We’re never making it out of here alive,” you pouted, throwing your head back realizing you were caught in yet another dead end. You were caught off guard by the feeling of a set of hands grabbing you from behind and pulling you back against their body, causing a shriek to leave your mouth..
“You’re so sexy when you’re scared, all tensed up,” Rhea quietly chuckled into your ear. “plus that little outfit making you all vulnerable isn’t helping your case,” she added, her teeth nipping at your earlobe while her arms pulling your back further against her chest.
“Not funny Rhe’,” you whined. Although your body relaxed knowing you were in the safety of Rhea’s arms, your heartbeat was still stuck in your throat, the thrill of Rhea’s sudden instigating had already begun forming a puddle in between your legs.
Rhea let out a breathy chuckle as she placed a kiss below your ear, “did you really think I’d be able to control myself when you look like that?” she murmured, her hands trailed to the bust of your strapless bodysuit.
“Mm- no but I assumed you’d have enough self control to wait till we got home,” your giggle soon turned into a quiet gasp as Rhea quickly flipped the bust of your outfit down, revealing your chest to the brisk air. Her hands glided to cup your breasts as her lips connected to the crook of your neck. Her fingers took hold of your nipple, rolling the flesh between her digits causing a hitched curse to leave your mouth. 
Rhea soon guided your body face hers, a satisfied smirk painted across her lips as she bent down and took your nipple into her mouth. Her knee found itself separating your legs causing a whimper to escape your mouth as her knee pushed up against your needy heat.
“Rhe’, we might get caught,” you whispered, your hands reaching to grab Rhea’s face, a grin creeping onto her lips as you pulled her face up to yours.
“Oh baby,” Rhea murmured, trailing her hand down the length of your bodysuit, “that’s the fun part,” she added before quickly yanking the fabric covering your core to the side. You sucked in a harsh breath, a shiver running through your body as the bitter autumn air hit your slicked heat.
“No panties? Naughty girl,” Rhea clicked her tongue as her finger slipped across your wetness, gathering your juices on her finger, “look at you, all soaked for Mami,” she hummed before taking her finger into her mouth, sucking your juices from her skin.
Rhea brought herself to her knees before you, her cobalt eyes twinkling in the moonlight as they trailed up your body, silently asking for permission. Although a quickie in a corn maze was definitely not in your Halloween plans, Rhea's mouth was nearly always impossible to resist. Once you nodded your head in approval she began peppering soft kisses to your inner thighs, leaving you whining at the sensation of her warm lips against your chilled flesh.
“Such a brave girl for me,” Rhea quietly praised, tossing one of your legs onto her shoulder, “I think you deserve a treat,” locking eyes with you she flattened her tongue against your cunt. She licked a wide stripe up your wetness, humming at the taste of your arousal. Your hand found itself tangled in her hair, pulling at the jet-black strands as her pierced tongue began rounding your clit. 
You chewed at the insides of your cheeks, hoping to stifle your whines when Rhea’s tongue sank into your heat. Quiet hums of approval escaped from Rhea as her tongue prodded with your entrance, her nose pressed against your clit. 
Rhea’s mouth returned to lapping circles around your bundle of nerves while her pointer finger snuck into your hole. Your abdomen tensed in reaction to her finger rhythmically pumping into your tightness. Faint whines echoed from the back of your throat as Rhea’s tongue worked alongside her finger that toyed with your aching core.
It wasn’t long until a second finger dipped inside of you, resulting in a whined “Fuck,” to escape your throat. Rhea’s tongue stayed focused on tracing shapes over your clit, her eyes still gazing up at you, clearly enjoying the sight of you losing control over her touch.
The adrenaline of knowing there was a possibility of someone rounding the corner and catching the two of you only fueled Rhea’s gestures. Your eyelids squeezed shut at the sensation of her fastened pace, 
“Mami,” you threw your free hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your moans, “oh- fuck Mami,” you whimpered, bucking your hips against Rhea’s face, your climax rapidly approaching.
The curling of Rhea’s digits as they pumped into you initiated your orgasm. Muffled moans left your mouth as your climax washed over you, releasing all the tension that sat inside your stomach onto Rhea’s fingers. 
Rhea assisted you in riding out your peak before retracing her fingers from your insides. She brought herself back to her feet, licking her fingers clean, the remnants of your slick coating her chin. “Better than any Halloween candy I’ve had,” she praised under her breath.
“How sweet, but please get me out of here,” you giggled out of breath, playfully rolling your eyes as you adjusted your costume.
You hopped onto Rhea’s back after gladly accepting a piggyback ride from her. Rhea successfully guided the both of you through the rest of the maze, thankfully making it out with minimal scares.
“Jesus, what took you guys so long?” a friend questioned as Rhea carried you to your group of friends who were sat at a bench waiting for the pair of you to show up.
“It's a maze! We got lost!” you threw your hands up in self defense.
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Being in a relationship with the Fontaine Women
characters: Charlotte / Furina / Lynette / Navia x gn!reader (separate)
warnings: none, just fluff
genre: Mostly fluff, with a bit of comfort added in Navia’s part
a/n: I decided to leave out Clorinde bc I honestly don’t have any concrete headcanons about her, mostly because she was only there for like 3 scenes and said a total of like 2 sentences. I will write for her, but I still need time to read more about her.
I tried to keep this at least a bit headcanon-y, but you know me, so I decided to add a small scenario to every character’s part, mostly just one’s I felt served as good examples of how things might be and that I didn’t feel like I’d get the chance to write in the future.
Anyway, hope you enjoy!
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Charlotte
With Charlotte, days on which nothing happened were rare. There always was some sort of event going on somewhere, and wherever it was, the journalist wasn’t far away, dragging you along with her. But just because you were there for work, didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy yourselves, especially with someone as energetic as her.
Trying to hold secrets from her, be they good or bad, quickly proved to be futile. She was a Journalist after all, so slowly digging up information to eventually figure out the truth was part of her being. That being said, getting informations through investigating always felt more rewarding to her than getting them served on a silver platter, so it quickly became routine between the two of you to give each other only a few hints instead of normally announcing news… something that, to the misfortune of others around you, quickly also seeped into your conversation with your friends and family.
“‘Man trips and falls down stairs at the opera house’? No, why would anyone read an article when they get all of the information via the headline?”, you suggested before quickly discarding your idea, causing Charlotte to sink further into her thoughts.
“Ooh, how about ‘Tragic accident at the opera house leaves man injured’?”, just as quickly as the words left her mouth, the two of you gave each other an energetic high-five before Charlotte continued to map the article out loud, only for a weird feeling to slowly wash over you… as if there was something important you were forgetting.
“Isn’t today the premier of that thriller you wanted to write an article about?”, you asked, only for Charlotte to stop talking in the middle of her sentence, her eyes widening as she quickly glanced towards the clock.
“You’re right! These clothes should be good enough for the opera house right? Ah, who am I kidding? Nobody cares!”, words began shooting out of her mouth in a panic as she grabbed you by the wrist and started dragging you towards the Aquabus, pen and notebook in her other hand.
…Somehow, be it by the grace of your Archon or Charlotte’s insistence the Aquabus drove at twice its intended speed, the two of you managed to get there in time.
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Furina
The Hydro Archon had an… interesting way of showing her affection. The performance she liked everyone thinking was the real her too fond of the dramatic to do so in a normal way while the real her was too easily flustered to go through with anything fancy. And so, it inevitably became your responsibility to initiate anything even slightly romantic.
Just because she was nervous however, didn’t mean Furina’d drop her usual act and with the way she behaved and talked whenever others were looking could easily fool people into thinking your dynamic was the other way around.
There weren’t many moments in which the two of you had the chance to be alone in public, with the Archon either surrounded by a few of the gardes or swarmed by the citizens of Fontaine. So when you wanted to visit your home in the countryside, Furina was quick to decide that she’d indulge you with her presence, choosing to keep silent about how she was happy to leave the city behind for a day.
If Furina’s uncharacteristic silence wasn’t enough to make you feel like there was something wrong, the look on her face would have made any doubts in your mind dissolve. Just as you had opened your mouth to say something however, you were interrupted by the feeling of something grabbing your hand, all the while the Archon's face was slowly painted red.
“Are you feeling fine Furina? Your face is-”, you were quick to tease, unable to hide your amusement as it was all written over your face. Furina however, did not look up, quickly cutting trying to cut you off, only for her own feelings to be betrayed by a crack in her voice.
“The sUN- I- Thanks for your concern, my dear companion, but there’s no need to worry. I’m fine, just a bit warm, the sun is scorching hot today after all”, she quickly stuttered out before putting on her act once again, hiding her face by looking away from you, only to quickly find herself engulfed in shadow as you put a parasol over her, greeting her with a smile when she finally looked back at you.
As the way to your destination was once again filled with silence, your eyes eventually landed on a hill covered in rainbow roses, causing you to quickly drag Furina from your actual path.
“Where are you going!?”, she managed to ask, only shy away for a moment when you suddenly shoved one of the roses in front of her face.
“Be careful when taking it, it’s really easy to prick oneself's on their thorns”, you spoke with a genuine smile, only for it to quickly contort into a teasing one when you saw her blush even further.
“I should have brought a better parasol, this one doesn’t seem to be working”, you joked, causing Furina to fire back with some sort of excuse. You didn’t care too much, the sight of her scrambling to regain her composure was too cute for you to do anything but silently observe it.
The rest of your journey was rather uneventful, as was your way back. What was of interest for many citizens of Fontaine however, was the rainbow rose their archon wore for the rest of the week 
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Lynette
To call Lynette a romantic would have been enough to net yourself a serious defamation case. She wasn’t her brother, who did and said all kinds of embarrassing stuff while putting on a mask, so while the two of you may have been in a relationship, most normal people wouldn’t be able to tell. So while you shouldn’t expect to see her showing her love to you in broad daylight, that didn’t mean that you didn’t get any special treatment.
On days where there was nothing to do, it had gotten somewhat common for Lynette to come over to your place, using it as a place to recharge her batteries when there was too much going on at home. So as you silently sat on your couch, reading a novel you had recently bought, while Lynette laid next to you, with her head placed on your lap, eyes closed as she relished in the calm atmosphere, the sound of the door suddenly swinging open was enough to give you a small heart attack.
“Pardon the intrusion, but have you seen my dear siste-”, Lyney’s voice rang through the room before his gaze eventually landed on the two of you, eyes instantly widening. “Oh sorry, I didn’t know I was interrupting something.”
Just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone, and while you liked to think that it normally took quite a bit to get you to blush, you could feel your cheeks quickly heat up. Was it because of his tone, his smirk or some weird combination of both, you didn’t understand, all you knew being that Lynette’s brother always found a way to make you feel embarrassed about even the most boring scenes.
“Should we-”, you quickly looked down at Lynette and began to talk, only for her to quickly finish your sentence for you.
“‘Try catching up to him’? I don’t think that’s necessary”, she stated matter of factly, her eyes not opening for even a split second before continuing to hum to herself.
“It seemed like he was looking for you, maybe he was just worried where you were?”, you asked, quickly getting a response in the form of a shake of her head.
“I told him I was visiting you. If I had to take a guess I’d say he was just passing your home and decided to quickly mess with you.” Her explanation made more sense than you’d like to admit, it wouldn’t have been the first time he decided to do things simply to try and get some amusement out of your reactions. However, you didn’t like the way Lynette made it sound like getting a reaction out of you was something that required so little effort.
“Sure it wasn’t you he was trying to mess with?”, you asked teasingly, only for her to finally open her eyes as a small smile found its way onto her lips.
“More than certain, redcheeks.”
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Navia
Navia had always been easy to get along with. She was intelligent, funny and could single handedly lighten up the mood in any room, possessing an amount of self-esteem that was charming without coming across as her being full of herself. To use her own words: Who wouldn’t treasure having a partner like her. And while there were times her work as leader of Spina di Rosula kept her too occupied to see you much, she made sure to use her time with you to the fullest.
Was it eating at the Hotel together once in a while, or going on a walk around Poisson and Fontaine, taking in what remained of its colorful landscape while simply chatting the day away. Whether the subject of your conversation held any importance or you simply joked around, didn’t matter. Having each other by your side was enough to make any day a good one in retrospect.
There was a time you used to fear visits to the cemetery with Navia. It wasn’t like you didn’t want her to be sad whenever you visited, it was her fathers grave after all, but seeing her knees grow weak as she tried her hardest to keep a brave look on her face made your heart sting as if it had been pierced with a knife. It had been that way each and every time, no matter if it had been a week after his death or two years… But not this time.
As the two of you arrived at the grave, you glanced over at Navia, fully preparing yourself for what you might witness once again, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. Instead, you found her silently smiling to herself and as you followed her gaze, your eyes eventually landed on a pair of candles placed next to the grave, causing your lips to form into a smile as well.
“Looks like Silver and Melus were here before us”, you noted, only for her to shake her head in response.
“Melus told me he wouldn’t be able to visit the grave until later… And well, you know Silver. I doubt he’s the kind of guy to light candles.”
Callas the Unfaithful no more. You might not have known her father that much, only seeing him a couple of times, but you had no doubt that the one who raised Navia would never have murdered anyone for any reason. 
Before you had the chance to lose yourself in your thoughts even more however, you were brought back to the real world by Navia’s voice.
“You still have the flowers?”, she asked, only for you to carefully grab them from your bag and present them to her, handing her one before putting the other in front of the grave. “Thanks. I’m sorry, but could you leave me alone with him for a moment? I’d like to tell him the good news”, she asked only for you to quickly nod.
“Thank you, you’ve been a great help today. I love you”, she told you with a smile.It wasn’t like her usual, radiant ones, instead being much smaller, but it was genuine, and that was the only thing that mattered.
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winter2468 · 4 months
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The Hunger Games movie ending scene was bad, and here’s why
Yes I’ve been thinking about this for years, no I am not done being annoyed.
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I’m just going to list things off.
No scars. In the books, Katniss gets caught in the fire from the bombs dumped on the Capitol’s children. The scarring is so extensive that not even Capitol plastic surgery can fix it. She explicitly says that she looks like a half-human mutt. But the movies won’t let her be ugly, so she’s smooth-skinned here.
Katniss is wearing a dress. Throughout the narrative, Katniss only wears a dress when the Capitol is forcing her to, be that at the reaping or during the many photoshoots and interviews. Even her mockingjay wedding dress was originally something she’d been forced to wear by President Snow, and the mockingjay details were added last-minute by Cinna, after Snow gave the order. Whenever Katniss gets to pick her own clothes, even if it’s the options presented to her by the Capitol, she goes for practical trousers, and never a dress.
She’s too young. In the books, it takes over a decade for Katniss to be in a mental place where she wants kids, and adding the age of her oldest child to that, she would be in her late thirties at the youngest in this scene, more likely in her forties. But god forbid that our heroine is allowed to age.
No leg hair. You might think I’m nitpicking here, but in the first movie, they had a scene when Katniss’ legs get waxed by the beauty team, so the movie writers definitely knew about it. In the books, Katniss explicitly says that she likes her leg hair, because the longer it grows, the longer it’s been since she was under the hands of the Capitol’s beauty standards. But women in movies aren’t allowed to show leg hair, so she’s shaved smooth here.
Losing the nuance. In the book version of this moment, Katniss and Peeta are watching their children play in the meadow. But what Katniss and Peeta know, but their kids don’t, is that the children are playing on a mass grave of those who died when District 12 was bombed. Just presenting it as a perfect golden meadow completely removes the horror from this scene.
[reposting this because t/erfs added horrible comments to the original version. trans rights!]
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harry-on-broadway · 9 months
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Italian Sun
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A/N: Felt inspired after yesterday’s pictures so here’s some unedited rambling. Enjoy!
***
It had only been a week, but you were already grappling with your new reality.
The reality of Harry being at home, at last.
Home, for now, was the Italian villa you all often decamped to when you had a few weeks off. He’d been making plans for the end of tour since the holidays and while specifics had changed, one thing had remained consistent: he wanted to spend time in Italy, relaxing and catching up with all of his family and friends he’d neglected for the past two years.
“Neglected? Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?” you teased when he first brought up the idea. “We’re literally driving home from your mother’s house.”
“You know what I mean,” he’d said, his face scrunching the way it did when he felt like his words were being misconstrued. “I’m just never around and when I am I feel like I’m so behind. Like…like I’m watching the season finale of a show I’ve never seen before. Everything’s different when I come back.”
“I’m not.”
“That’s what you think.”
“Oh?”
“It’s the little things. You cut your hair. You found a new coffee you like. You started listening to a new podcast. And I’ve missed it all.”
When he put it that way, your heart broke. He rarely complained, knowing that the life he was living was envied by many. But you felt for him, hearing how hard this was on him. “Well, start putting together a guest list. I guess we’re all going to Italy in July.”
Which is how you found yourself rooming with Harry’s closest friends and family in the week following the final show of Love on Tour, sharing meals, memories, and adventures with everyone. The extra glow coming off of Harry didn’t go unnoticed by you and you could feel happiness and contentment radiating off of him when he snuggled in close to you each night.
Today was the last day that everyone would be all together before the group started to head out, leaving you and Harry alone. He’d wanted the final day to be the best yet and had planned an itinerary filled with boating and sunbathing and, according to him, the best Italian dinner yet.
You had to give him credit. It was the best day yet. Games were played, naps were taken, and the picnic basket of cheeses, breads, and meats that Harry himself had packed was delicious. But the day also came with an added perk for you.
While almost everyone had donned swimwear for the occasion, displaying all sorts of skin, Harry took it to another level. His shirt was hanging precariously on his body, a single button keeping it from being blown away, and his swim trunks had been rolled up and pulled low on his hips (to avoid tan lines, he explained).
And the hat.
The fucking hat. A bright pink bucket cap, with the word ‘Daddy’ written across the front, that someone had thrown onstage in Australia. He’d said he picked it up as a joke, but the fact that he’d held onto it across countries and time zones, made you think otherwise. You saw how he carried himself with an extra hint of swagger when he wore it, and you hated to admit it, but something stirred inside of you when you caught a glance of him, hat and all, driving the boat with all of the ease of a seasoned pro. You prayed no one could tell how that scene affected you.
Now, with dinner on the horizon, you were trying to put those steamy thoughts out of your head and focus on what you should wear. You’d narrowed it down to two brightly colored dresses, when you felt two hands cover your eyes.
“Guess who?”
“Hmmmmm,” you pondered. “Could it be my boyfriend? You know, the guy who organized this magnificent trip after breaking records worldwide for the past couple of years?”
“He sounds like a catch.”
“He’s not that bad. He’s easy on the eyes.”
“Easy on the eyes, huh?” Harry moved his hands down to your hips and spun you around so you were facing him.
“Yeah, and he looks even better when he’s half-naked, driving a boat.”
“Mmmm.” Harry’s hands moved lower so that they were resting on the cleft of your ass. “Must have been pretty hot.”
“Oh, yeah, super sexy. I wish I could have jumped him right there. Especially in that hat.”
“Wait, what,” Harry laughed, breaking whatever character he’d been playing. “Are you serious?”
You shrugged. “What can I say, there’s something about that whole scene that really turned me on. And, sex on a boat sounds kind of fun. Shame we couldn’t try that out.” Harry swallowed, his throat bobbing as he processed what you said. “Harry?” you asked after a moment. “Are you still with me?”
“Yeah, I’m just trying to think why the fuck I thought it would be a good idea to invite everyone on this trip. I could’ve been having sex on a boat.”
“It’s not a boat but we can still have some fun,” you whispered, fingers delicately trailing down the exposed skin of his chest.
“Yeah?”
You nodded and Harry darted across the room to shut the door to your suite, trying to tear his shirt off at the same time. “Slow down, baby,” you said. “We’ve got time.”
Harry took a deep breath, calming himself as he nodded and opened his arms for you. His hands skated over your body, much of your skin already exposed thanks to your swimsuit, before they landed on your jaw, tipping your head back to bring your lips to his.
You felt heat course through your body at his slightest touch and were amazed that he was still able to elicit this reaction from you. You felt your nipples stiffen through the flimsy material of your swimsuit when Harry’s already sizable erection brushed against your thigh and you couldn’t stop thinking about feeling him inside of you.
“Bed, now,” Harry panted when he broke away from the kiss, and you backed up until you could feel the mattress behind your knees.
You fell backwards, bouncing slightly when you landed, and when you raised yourself up onto your elbows to find Harry, he had already dropped to the ground, his hands nimbly shimmying your swim bottoms down your legs. The garment discarded somewhere in the room, you felt Harry’s lips on your ankle, then up your calf, then at the inside of your knee. You knew what this was building too, but that didn’t stop you from letting out a gasp of surprise when his lips finally found your center.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned, voice barely above a whisper for fear of alerting the rest of your party to what you were up to. You threw your head to the side, trying to muffle the sound of your pleasure with the pillow.
Theoretically, the two of you were due downstairs for dinner in roughly a half hour, but Harry showed no urgency as he slowly licked at your core, speeding up, then slowing down right as you were about to topple over the edge. It was hard to focus on anything but the feel of him between your legs. You reached down, hand moving blindly until your hands found purchase in his hair. The sensation of his soft curls between your fingers grounded you as you bucked up against his lips, wanting even more than he was already giving you.
“Is this good?” he asked.
All you could manage was a breathless moan as his fingers slid inside, easily undoing you. You opened your eyes and tried to catch your breath as Harry appeared over top of you licking his fingers clean with a satisfying pop. “That really turns me on,” you finally wheezed out.
“What? That?”
“No, the fact that you remember what works for me. It’s just something about the way you care for me. You always act like you don’t remember anything and you have no clue what’s happening, but that’s not true H. You always remember what matters.”
You could see something burning in Harry’s eyes as you said that, not quite desire, but something close. “I’m always going to care about you,” he said, the words laced with emotion. “Nothing is ever going to change that.”
“Show me,” you said.
He rolled on top of you in one easy motion, and you opened your legs, giving him space to settle in. He kissed you, furiously, but nowhere near enough. You needed to feel him all over you, every inch. Skin on skin, nothing between you.
“What the hell are these shorts still doing on you?” you whined, fingers digging into the fabric of his tiny trunks.
“I could say the same about this,” he all but grunted, struggling to undo the tie of your bathing suit top.
Free of obstructions, you all were able to lay together and take in the moment. You weren’t surprised when Harry buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling and savoring the moment. It was something he’d made a habit of doing in recent months, after noticing that you’d changed body wash in his absence. He was upset at first, saddened by yet another detail he’d missed, but after that, he’d started to take more time to observe and remember every little thing about you.
After a few seconds, you felt his lips on your neck as he kissed his way to your mouth, and you could feel him smile into the kiss.
“Got time for one more?” he asked with a cheeky grin.
“Why stop there?”
“I think you might be overestimating my abilities, love.”
You pressed a kiss of your own to the spot right under his ear that you knew got him going. “You’ve never let me down, H.”
Without warning, he was inside you. He often paused upon entering you, giving you a moment to adjust and a moment for him to center himself. But today, he did no such thing, rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm. You made no effort to stop him either, tilting your hips up and pressing your heels into the small of his back to drive him further inside. The room was nearly silent, just the sound of your bodies moving in time broken by occasional panting, or the soft moans Harry stifled against your chest.
You glanced at him as he continued to drive into you. His eyes were shut tight and his forehead was wrinkled in concentration. It was the look he often wore when he was focused on not coming undone prematurely. Always the gentleman, he made every effort to ensure you were taken care of before he handled his own needs, but the rare occasions when he fell apart first drove you wild.
There was something so attractive about watching a man who was always in control, always looking out for others, come undone, something you’d once told him, earning an eye roll. You could tell he was nearing the edge as his thrusts became more frenzied and less rhythmic, while the wrinkles in his brow deepened.
You brought your lips to the shell of his ear, nipping at the skin, before soothing the bite with a kiss. “Let go,” you whispered in his ear. “For me.” You could feel his hesitation, so you played the ace you had been holding this whole time.
“Daddy.”
His whole body shuddered as he emptied inside of you, your orgasm following close behind. He collapsed, his entire body weight resting on top of you.
“Give me a sec,” he said. “I just—fuck.”
You chuckled lightly. “That good, baby?”
Harry shook his head in disbelief, as he lifted off the bed and padded to the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth. “Fucking amazing,” he muttered, as he moved to help you clean up. “Didn’t know that was uh, something you were into. You know, the daddy thing,” he added, trying to sound casual.
“Can’t say I am, but something about that hat just really got to me. Maybe something to think about in the future though?”
“For sure,” Harry said. “I mean, I’ve scheduled plenty of sex for us as part of this break.”
“So when do you leave again?” you teased.
Harry pinched your thigh lightly. “Not soon enough apparently.”
You leaned forward, grabbing him for a kiss. “It’s always too soon. But I’m happy to have you while I can.” You looked at the clock on the bedside table. “And I think all of your friends want to see you too, which means, we have to get ready. Now.”
“I’ll start the shower.”
“Harry!”
“What? It’s a time saver and a water saver.”
You rolled your eyes. “Remember, your friends will let us have it if we’re late.”
“Yeah, yeah. They’re getting a free vacation so they’ll keep quiet if they know what’s best for them.”
“Oooh, tough guy.” You grabbed your towel and headed to the bathroom, hearing Harry say something behind you. “What did you say?” you asked, turning around to find him standing there holding his hat from earlier in the day.
“I said I have to remember to send a thank you note,” he added quietly.
“To who?”
“Whoever threw that fucking hat on the stage. Never imagined it would get me laid.”
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demiromanticmickey · 3 months
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On today's "I am SO not normal about Dead Friend Forever": Discussing Catholicism and Colonization in this gay Thai slasher series
Some background on me: I am from a Latine Catholic family. Raised as a non-practicing Catholic (we didn't go to church or pray). Then my parents enrolled me in a Catholic school that I attended from 5th grade to the end of 7th grade. Today, I am not Catholic and have never really considered myself as such.
Ok, so in the flashback episodes of DFF, I have been noticing a lot of things. My findings under the cut.
Let's start with this crucifix and photo of the Virgin Mary and a baby Jesus.
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Screenshot from ep. 5.
The camera lingers here a bit so we're obviously meant to pay attention to the phrase. I put the screenshot through Google translate's image translator and the translation it gave me was, "Think good, do good, be a good person." I didn't think much of it when I first watched the episode other than it was supposed to establish that the boys attend a Christian or Catholic school.
But then there was this image posted on Be On Cloud's Instagram (also from ep. 5): X
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Zooming in, we can see there's another picture of Mary in the background. Watching the classroom scenes, it's easy to miss because the series itself is more washed out than the official photos posted. But this emphasis on Mary led me to believe the school is a Catholic one. So out of curiosity, I looked up the schools the writers and directors attended because I felt I was onto something here. And boy, was I!
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Source: MDL
Ma-Deaw, if you didn't know, is one of the directors of Dead Friend Forever (he also directed Manner of Death and Inhuman Kiss , and lots of other things).
One Google search later (X) and I learned "Montfort College" is a Catholic school. It started out as a primary school that later added a secondary school as well.
Now let's take a closer look at some of the details of this school:
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First, the school's motto "Labor Conquers All Things". This reminded me of the phone conversation Tee had with his uncle:
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On my first watch, this sounded familiar to me but I couldn't really place why. It wasn't until I saw this other Tumblr post (X) that pointed out it's similar to a bible quote from the New Testament. The quote varies a bit depending on which version of the bible you're using but it's along the lines of, "He who does not work, neither shall he eat".
This is meant to discourage "laziness". Nevermind the fact that people deserve to eat simply because we get hungry and need food to survive. The idea that we only "deserve" things based on productivity is an extremely colonial one. — Reminder also that Tee is being forced into this "work" in the first place. He's just a high school kid. I don't need to like his character to understand how fucked up his situation is.
Then there's the patron of the school. St. Louis de Montfort was a French Catholic priest most known for his study in Mariology. What is Mariology (X)? The study of Mary, the mother of Jesus. I didn't know that was a thing but it's unsurprising considering how prominent images of Mary were in my own religious upbringing. And she's what started me down this rabbit hole in the first place. Mary is a big deal to the Catholics. I'm going to be paying even more attention now if more Mary imagery pops up.
The Garden of Eden and Original Sin
Now I want to draw attention to these images:
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Screenshots from ep. 7
Here we have Non and Phee biting into an apple as they leisure around this lush green field. We know they've visited this location more than once because they're wearing different outfits in the screenshots. And I think it's important to note that it's Phee holding the apple and offering it to Non.
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The use of the word "bait" in the bts of ep. 7 is quite interesting too. (X)
The Garden of Eden was the paradise in which Adam and Eve resided. In this garden, there were many trees to eat from. The one tree Adam and Eve were forbidden by God to eat from was the Tree of Knowledge. A serpent (Satan), first tempted Eve into taking from the tree to eat it's fruit. And then Eve gave the fruit to Adam. That is Original Sin. And because Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge, all humans thereafter are born sinful and bad, and can only find salvation through God.
Of course in the scene between Phee and Non, the sin the apple represents is being gay. And it's after this, and after the bracelet scene, that Non becomes involved with Por's film and his tragedy begins.
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Zoomed in screenshot from ep. 5
And I wonder if the bracelet scene is the last time Phee and Non visit this forest location. It would parallel how Adam and Eve were cast out of the Garden of Eden once they sinned.
Final Thoughts
You give me a story that criticizes Western religion and how it's used as a tool for oppression and colonization, and I'm gonna eat that shit up. I am gonna eat it up. Every. Single. Time.
I really wasn't expecting anything like this from Dead Friend Forever. This level in attention to detail is unmatched. I don't think I've watched a more well planned out show. And no matter where DFF goes from here, these seven episodes will always hold a special place in my heart. 💗
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