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#then why are you dooming them idiot
puppyeared · 2 years
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I just skimmed through the art part of your blog and holy bajeebus your LMK art is so beautiful and the headcanon ideas you come up with are so good I wanna steal em-
Kinda wanna see like a part 2 of the little angst you did between MK and Macaque a while ago. It's so interesting and I wanna see Macaque's reaction in your art style. (You don't have to of course, it's just a suggestion [idk if i spelled that right])
Thanks for reading and hope you have a good day/night!
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Hope this is to your liking ^^
Part one here
#I’m sure there are some character nuances im forgetting but well 🤷🏽#I want their misunderstanding or whatever they have going on between then come to a head. literally just going ‘wait what’#for me I think it’s entirely possible that there was an actual fight and maybe tension leading up to that point#cause I feel like macaque is not just bitter about thinking he died to wukong but maybe some stuff that built up to that#maybe the fight was just the breaking point. maybe they’re idiots who don’t talk about it because they think they’re on the same page idk#chipper-smol wrote a cool theory abt them using macaques ‘you’re nothing’ line in s4ep1. from what I understand it could be a direct parall#parallel to when he said that to MK right before MK regained his nerve and hit macaque in the eye.. since flying bark foreshadowed monkey mk#waaaay back in season 1 (where his shadow is his monkey form in the opening) i think that could be deliberate#and they could have gotten billy to voice an entirely different line for that scene. but they reused his line from s3#in a very specific scene with wukongs narrative foil. hm#that aside I would have liked to hear billy voice the ‘you abandoned me’ line that would have killed me. but that’s just me lol#also looking at this I should have shaded the last frame to make it look more dramatic and serious but I ran out of time :(#if anything I want to see MK try and help them get back together. poor kid tries so hard to understand people so I think it would be cool to#see that happen. that’s what I like about him.. he asked macaque why he was working for LBD instead of accusing him of dooming everyone bc#he wants to and he tried to comfort spider queen by admitting he was scared of LBD too 😭😭#my art#myart#Lego Monkie kid#lmk#Monkie kid#lmk spoilers#Lego Monkie kid spoilers#lmk macaque#six eared macaque#lmk sun wukong#lmk swk#lmk MK#lmk xiaotian#lmk season 4#Lego Monkie kid s4
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thepromptswhisperer · 6 months
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"Is that a smile I spy?" Prompts
“Oh my god. You’re smiling!” “No, I’m not. Fuck off.”
“What? What’s with that smile?”
Try hard not to stare at the stunning (first) smile they see blossoming on the other’s lips.
“Why did they smile at you?”
“I can’t just smile on command.”
“Remember to smile every now and then, yeah? (We don’t want you to scare them all away.)”
“You’re so bad at this.” “I don’t know what you mean.” “The corners of your mouth. They are twitching.”
“You have the most beautiful smile, you know that?”
“I can’t stop smiling.”
Think their smile is ugly and try to hide it. The other is having none of it. 
“I hate when you smile like that.”
“A smile a day keeps the doctor away.” “Yeah… I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”
“Is that a smile I spy?” 
Take on the (almost) impossible task to not break into a smile. 
“Say cheese!”
“I just want(ed) to make you smile.”
Cover their emotions with a smile, hoping nobody will notice. The other, however, catches on (almost) immediately.
“You can’t even hide your smile. So, spill. Who is this mysterious person that makes you all giddy and insufferable?”
“Uh-oh.” “What’s wrong?” “That’s their ‘oh, you messed with the wrong bitch, bitch’ face.”
“Stop smiling.”
“A smile could go a long way.” (“Well, mine went all the way to [country] and is currently enjoying its vacation there. So, you’ll have to come up with a better plan/idea.”)
“One smile from them and they’ll be putty in their hands. Watch.”
Their fingers tenderly pull up the corners of the mouth of the other. 
“It’s almost like you don’t know how to smile.”
As soon as the other leaves, their smile drops. 
“You look like an idiot.” “You know, other people would say it’s nice to see me so happy. Or that I have a beautiful smile.”
“My face hurts.”
"That should wipe the smile off their face."
"Uh-oh. I know that smile."
“So you can smile!”
Cannot help but smile in response to the one already on the other’s lips. 
“There it is, just the smile I was looking for.”
“Your smile is a knockout, baby!” “Why are you still standing then?”
“You look like you’re going to your doom instead of to a celebration/etc. Smile, for goodness sake.”
"You know very well what that smile of yours does to me."
“You just had to smile back at them, didn’t you?” “What else was I supposed to do? Ignore them?”
Feel the other smile against their lips/skin.
“I don’t like that smile.” “Then I doubt you’ll like what’s coming next.”
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mammons-lover · 27 days
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It’s 3 a.m., and Mammon is fast asleep when he feels a dark presence hovering over him. He slowly opens his eyes to find Lucifer standing at the foot of his bed, looking displeased.
Lucifer: I know what you did.
Mammon (groggy and confused): Huh? What are you talking about?
Lucifer (sternly): You know exactly what I’m talking about, Mammon.
Mammon: It’s way too early for this… I didn’t do anything!
Lucifer (turning to leave): You better fix it before it’s time for classes, or you’ll be punished.
Lucifer leaves, and Mammon bolts up in a panic.
Mammon (to himself): Fuck, how does he know?!
Mammon hurries to Levi’s room, knocking frantically.
Mammon (whispering urgently): Levi, wake up!
Leviathan: Wh-what's going on?
Mammon: Lucifer knows...
Leviathan (sitting up, wide-eyed): What do you mean, he knows?
Mammon: He knows, Levi! We’ve only got a couple hours to fix this, or we’re doomed!
Leviathan: Damn it, Mammon! Fine, you get the others, and I’ll start working on it.
All the brothers gather in a storage unit filled with human realm items, clearly panicked about getting caught.
Belphegor (yawning): So where exactly are we moving all this?
Satan (irritated): First, who snitched?! Someone’s gotta fess up!
Mammon: Look, as much as I wanna know who ratted us out, we need to get this stuff outta here before Lucifer shows up. Let’s move it, now!
Leviathan: Move it where, genius?
Mammon (grinning smugly): I’ve got a spot in the human realm that me and MC—
Leviathan: Wait, you have a place with MC?!
Mammon: Not the time, Levi! It’s way too early for this!
Satan: We’re definitely talking about this later, Mammon.
The brothers frantically move everything, working together despite the early hour. After a tense operation, they return home, only to find Lucifer waiting for them by the front door, arms crossed and unimpressed.
Lucifer: So, where have you all been?
Asmodeus: Oh, we were just spending some quality time together!
Lucifer: (not buying it) Mammon.
Mammon: Y-yeah?
Lucifer: Did you fix what I told you to fix?
Mammon (trying to sound confident): Y-yes?
Lucifer: Really? Then why is the kitchen still a mess?
Mammon: Wait—you were talking about the kitchen?!
Belphegor (facepalming): Mammon, you idiot.
Mammon: In my defense, he wasn’t exactly clear, and I thought of the only reasonable explanation for him waking me up at 3 a.m.!
Lucifer: So, what were you all doing out at this hour?
All the Brothers (in unison, trying to act innocent) Nothing...
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iceunhie · 9 months
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JEALOUSY IS A FICKLE THING...
ft. al-haitham, ayato, wriothesley, lyney
warnings : gender neutral, jealousy, mentions of suggestive content on wriothesley's part, established relationship, you are wriothesley's spouse. erm slight dark content but it's okay it isn't implied, we need more men like them in the world
mhie's notes : i used the wheel randomizer for this i hope everyone's proud i write for anyone other than scara ijbol
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al-haitham’s jealousy is muted; quiet and hardly noticeable, often non-existent unless you have the fortune of knowing him deeply enough (kaveh). make no mistake, al-haitham trusts you, he simply doesn’t trust those that make moves on you when he was clearly right there. when some bothersome person disrupts you both on a simple date, which is already a clear red warning sign, for the acting grand sage hardly has any time to spare; naturally, his reaction would be to put a complete stop to any and all the flirty remarks towards you with a flat tone.
it’s not the content of the words that make the person making a move on you leave, but the slight menacing edge to al-haitham’s voice, a sign that if they do intend to cross the line more than necessary, he won’t just be using his words.
most would back off after a simple talking-to, but in the case that person doesn’t cease their advance, you can best bet your lover is steering you away immediately. dendro archon forbid they touch you or make you uncomfortable in the slightest, though, or else al-haitham has no qualms contacting the matra or taking matters in his own hands, but this scenario hardly happens often, given his seamless ability to get to the heart of the conflict and uprooting it so that no problems arise.
he’d most likely opt to diffuse the situation by straight-up telling any admirer of yours that you were taken and most definitely not up for grabs.
“they are my lover. since you’re clearly crossing their preferred boundaries and seem ignorant of the fact, i’d advise you to stop making them feel any more uncomfortable.”
though it’s truly difficult to get al-haitham jealous due to the excellent control of his emotions, tempered by his rational thinking, the most you can see of it is how he seems to stay closer to you than usual and the simple but firm link of your fingers as you both continue on your days.
(but if you notice him putting a subtle hand on your waist as you both walk, do try not to comment on it, will you?)
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for ayato… er, why have you even bothered? if one even has the nerve to flirt and court the yashiro commissioner’s own partner, then that’d make you either not inazuman, or simply an idiot. it’s no exaggeration, but a simple fact. ayato is by no means a jealous man, but he doesn’t like seeing those not worthy of you hover around you with such impure and unwelcome intentions, so he tells ayaka and thoma, but really, he just wants to call the shuumatsuban on any who dares to even look at you the wrong way.
he bides his time well, approaching your admirer with a genial smile and elegant composure and indulges in small talk, but there’s a chill in the air and the looming feeling of doom as well as his smile that seems to see through any and all actions. its terrifying, really.
it also doesn’t help that he’d be extremely touchy in these moments, seeking to link arms with you and yes, even going as far as to rest his head on your shoulder, a clear indication of exactly how close you two really are. after you introduce him as your lover, at this point, it’s likely that the person making a move on you would back off and run away immediately, for how could they even dare to compete when it’s the yashiro commissioner himself who they’re facing?
he’d gloat silently afterwards in the comfort of his own quarters though, the sight of your admirer cowering like a dog getting cornered by a wolf, ah, truly satisfying. though thoma would eventually tell him to tone down the ‘borderline evil chuckling.’
“my love, have you been well? hm? the change of topic? ah, well, as the saying goes; ‘out of sight, out of mind,’ yes? no need to think about those that’ll only bother you. now, come here, there’s a new hotpot ingredient i’d like you to try… haha, relax, it isn’t dango this time.”
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another one with a terrifying reputation and terrifying influence to make even the most daring of your admirers quake in their boots. wriothesley is amused - he gets that there’s hardly any window for romance in such a dreary place like the fortress, but even going as far as to court the duke of meropide’s own spouse? really funny, honestly.
but after the initial wave of amusement, he does take this time to immediately show off his status as your husband, showing off the matching wedding rings and even having the well-deserved nerve to smile and continue on rambling about your marriage, which is clearly a very happy one, judging by the way he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek while maintaining clear eye contact towards the person.
you’d have to wrangle in your husband when you both sleep tonight though, because wriothesley has made it his personal mission for any and all those who wish to covet you to show them that you were his spouse, and no other held your heart or your affections. when morning rises the next day, you promptly leave with a very visible bruise on your neck, and an especially relaxed and happy duke at your heels. most would look away in embarrassment, including your admirers, so that’s that.
“hah, that'll show any of those who have way too much time on their hands to lay their hands off my spouse. what? too brutal? well, sweetheart, what did you expect?”
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oh my god lyney. haiz this enigmatic magician… magicians are all about masterfully weaving lies and illusions in order to perform to the top standard, and it's no surprise lyney also uses such methods when dealing with any and all annoyances in your relationship. he can be perfectly fine on the outside, but he has always been good with keeping his more sinister and less than socially acceptable side in check.
in fact, chances are he’d probably charm away your admirer with his own tricks; a wink their way and honeyed suave words to ease their love-struck heart and in seconds your admirer is up and away, promising to leave.
this often gets you disgruntled and in awe of his ‘performance,’ but lyney will always stave off your complaints or questions with a rainbow rose or some other fancy trick of his up his sleeve and guide you away, person courting you forgotten. all according to plan….
in all honesty, lyney isn't as composed about it as he seems. lynette can see it at a glance after you two have separated after the encounter. it shows in the way he broods silently for some time, preferring to divert the attention of such a sore subject away and going about endlessly about what new gifts he might give you or what seat was best for viewing, read: what seat was closest to him, for that matter. her brother was truly such a pain in the neck, and lynette does thank you for making him happy, but really, at this rate, you'd drive him insane by how much sway you hold over him.
“and just a trick of the light here and-! ta-da! a rainbow rose, symbolizing just how much i do adore you, way more than any other! …so don't try to pay attention to them, okay? after all, you've already caught this magician’s eye and heart~”
he can still be pouty and extremely clingy after the encounter though, which carries on whenever he performs any of his shows, where lyney always, always makes one of his acts feature you, be it a simple guess your card trick or his favorite, the one act where he leads you to land up on stage and give him a kiss based on the card’s instructions, it's all to show just how wrong anyone else other than him would make you as elated as lyney does.
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@ MHIIEEE 2023 : do not copy, repost or plagiarize my work.
btw can you tell i had fun writing for al-haitham despite the fact that i have never even been remotely interested in him in the entirety of the game
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cosmicjoke · 11 months
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You know what's really screwed up about Eren's confession to Armin in the end? He admits to Armin that he knew only 20% of the human population would be saved, that 80% would perish, and even knowing that, he still went ahead and enacted the Rumbling. He knew the conflict wouldn't be solved, or ended, by enacting the Rumbling, because he knew the future, and knew that he wouldn't succeed in wiping out the entirety of humanity beyond the walls. He knew by enacting the Rumbling, he would only worsen the conflict and ensure its continued existence. He knew, in the end, that he was in fact dooming Paradis, not saving it. And he did it anyway. He did what he wanted anyway. That's why Armin gets so upset and angry at him, why he asks him so emphatically "why?", because he realizes what Eren is saying, what he's confessing to being. If anyone ever had any doubt, or actually thought Eren did it to save Paradis or the Eldian's or his friends, his confession to Armin at the end unequivocally proves otherwise. Eren did it because he wanted to. Because he wanted to see the sight of an empty, desolate world. That's what ultimately broke Eren, having to be faced with the truth of his own monstrosity. He couldn't hide from it, even as he initially lies to Armin and tries to tell him he did it to save his friends. Eren was a monster. Tragic for how he genuinely cared about his friends, genuinely loved them, but he couldn't put them over his own, selfish desires, and couldn't overcome his own, horrendous nature. Eren is a cautionary tale too, for what happens when we persecute others, and blame others and collectively punish others for things they didn't do. Eventually, it leads to someone gaining power who shouldn't have it. An idiot like Eren, a child like Eren. He never matured as a human being. He never grew. He retained the selfishness of a child to the very end. And we see then what a person like Eren does with that power. Truly terrifying.
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inafever · 1 year
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On how much Aziraphale has learned since season one:
This is about character development. Inside of a story, everything that happens, happens for a reason. It's meant to tell you something, to teach you or the character of your story, something.
So if the story continues and your character repeats the same mistakes again you know that they are bound to be doomed this time, and even worse the audience is going to certainly lose respect for them, cause they have made the same mistake twice, they haven't learned anything, they're gonna do it again another time, they don't deserve a happy ending. (yes I'm talking about good omens here) So you don't do that to a character that matters to you and you respect even the tiniest bit.
A Lot of us here are thinking that this is what has happened to Aziraphale's character at the end of season two, that he has done it again, repeated the same mistake again and has left Crowley to join heaven and it's been because of reasons like wanting to change Crowley (not true, see this post), still believing in heaven's goodness (not true at all), not being on the same page with Crowley (I'm gonna talk about this one especially in this post) and such likes. But these are the things he should've known better about after 6000 years and all the events that we've learnt about especially throughout season two. (It seems to be rather the whole point doesn't it?)
But we all seem to rather believe that he's made that mistake again nonetheless. so what we're doing here is trying to find reasons to justify the mistake and somehow make the reason behind the wrong actions something relatable to ourselves so we can forgive him when the time comes.
In fact I don't believe that he's made a mistake. for Aziraphale's character to be redeemable, what he has done, must be the only option that he's had for saving them both. I don't care what kind of situation could have resulted in him making this decision, but the only reason, the one and only reason, must be his love for Crowley. Otherwise it'll prove that he hasn't learnt his lessons or doesn't love Crowley enough to make a compromise, and in both cases, he's not worthy of love. He won't earn his happy ending by being tortured and feeling sorry and doing the apology dance for Crowley if he's hurt Crowley out of selfishness and stupidity again
But I'm sure he'll earn his happy ending and I'm sure he's learnt his lessons and it's too late for him to have unlearned them all in a matter of a few seconds. (He is an idiot but he's not stupid) and it's mostly because of this, that I believe the reason why he made that decision, must be very different from what it appears to be on the surface.
Anyway, this post is about what Aziraphale has learned and how he's changed.
I have made a post about their moments of conflict from both season one and two, it's here and you can look it up. This is where you begin to understand how Aziraphale has changed since season one because these are his dialogues after he's had a fight with Crowley in the bandstand, season one:
"even if I did know where the antichrist was I wouldn't tell you we're on opposite sides"
"friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you"
"there is no our side Crowley. Not anymore. It's over"
And then there's season two, when they disagree on what to do with Gabriel, Aziraphale is the one to point out that they both rely on the life they've built together
He's asking him to help him take care of Gabriel together and in response Crowley leaves
In the final scene he asks Crowley to come back to heaven
"work with me" "We can be together as Angels, Doing good" "I need you."
He says anything he can think of literally to convince him to stay with him and it doesn't work
We start from "we're not friends" and arrive at "work with me. we can be together"
Even if we don't know the reason why he's insisting on taking Crowley back to heaven with him, this is an Angel that has picked up the pace. That wants them to be an us. No matter what.
But these are only a few dialogues. I think there's more than that. I think the show in five and a half episodes (out of six) has tried its hardest to make the point quite clear about how Aziraphale feels about Crowley (or how strongly he feels those emotions). all through the way he looks at him and through his gestures and soft touches from time to time
I'm gonna make another post of those moments separately and I'm gonna link it to this when I do.
update: (here's the post. not just average moments of Aziraphale looking cute, it's something about the way he looks at him)
And I'd like to even compare those wishful glances to some of those from season one, but I can't, cause they are nonexistent in there.
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meanbossart · 3 months
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A personal headcanon of mine is that Cazador had a special interest in Astarion before turning him into a vampire possibly a romantic obsession.
I was curious about what your personal thoughts were on the relationship between Cazador and Astarion?
Let me stop you right there - Yes.
Now, I'm a little reluctant to elaborate on this one, because I think it can be seen as a little reductive of the characters and their stories to condense what could be a political plot into something as superficial as another "if I can't have you, no one will" storyline - not only would that be less interesting to some people, but it once again reduces Astarion's character to his attractiveness - while the former, for once, actually made him "desirable" for his achievements and influence - even if it doomed him after all.
But at the same time, this theory compels me for that reason exactly. It sets the origins of the whole issue and what would, overtime, erupt into this complex he has of himself and how others perceive him.
I'm not a stickler for details as long as you can tell me a good story, but it's notable to me that the reasons why Cazador set his eyes on Astarion so early in his reign are never really elaborated on further. How much influence did he really have as a young magistrate, and what kind of rulings could he be passing that would affect Cazador so much for him to take such a risk in abducting someone of his standing right as he had himself come into power? Cazador is an idiot, but he's an idiot who managed to say alive and hidden for two centuries - this move was either exceptionally well thought-out, or Astarion wasn't that liked as a magistrate, or Cazador had far pettier motives to take such a risk.
Not to mention, Astarion is awfully elusive whenever you inquire about the hows and whys of his abduction. Dismissive, even. Like it's something he doesn't want to talk about. I could take that down the boring route and say "oh, the writers just didn't care to develop this part of his story", or I could do the far more fun thing and read into it.
Then, of course, there's the vague suggestions that Astarion stood out among the spawn for one reason or another - he's referred to as the runt of the litter, and yet as Cazador's favorite as well. Going through Cazador's journal following Astarion's disappearance, there seems to be something besides frustration about him leaving just as he's about to ascend - there's resentment, there's desperation. Why the fuck does Petras act as if Cazador would ever do anything good for them if they were treated as Astarion describes? How the fuck were any of them under the impression that this ritual would benefit them whatsoever, while Astarion seems to have always known better? While I have no doubt that they all suffered under Cazador's control, there seems to be indication that Astarion suffered specially badly. The question left is why.
I don't think they were ever lovers or anything like that, I don't think Astarion ever even knew Cazador well enough to give him a passing thought, but I think it would be absolutely rich for a newly born, still spite-fuelled vampire lord to make very emotionally-driven decisions. The type of decisions that he looks back on and curses himself for. For having ever had such a weak mind.
Think of it, you come into all this power after years of pain, sorrow and suffering. You set your hungry, lonely little eyes on the prettiest girl at the ball - she turns you down spectacularly. She laughs you off under thinly veiled pleasantries. You are beside yourself - you were supposed to have everything you ever wanted, to be untouchable, to be desirable, to have some sort of supernatural allure about yourself - you were under the impression that now, all of your problems had been solved and everything that life has to offer would be thrown at your feet, like you perceived it to be like to your own, deceased masted; then the rug gets ripped from under your feet. But, a moment after, you realize: when you want something very badly, you can now just take it.
So you do. You get a shiny new toy. Fresh off your dull, painful past-experiences it seems like this toy is all you need to bring the long-lost zest back into your life, it is your first taste of true power and control, your dear beloved, your reluctant companion, and you paint a picture of what life will be alongside it (though slightly stooped beneath you - you can't be equals, of course) decades, no, centuries into the future.
But the toy doesn't ever grow to like you. In fact, it hates you for what you are, what you chose to become and what you chose to make of, and to it. For a few years, you try. Then eventually you get bored of it.
In a few more, you begin to not be able to stand the sight of it. It reminds you of a time when you were naive, when you were stupid. Worse yet, it is now your ball and chain as you made it. The only use you see remaining for it is to tear it apart again and again and again until you've forgotten why you're even doing it. You don't even want to touch it yourself, you get others to do it for you.
I don't think Cazador harbored anything but that indifferent resentment towards Astarion through the vast majority of those two centuries, and, horrifically enough, I don't think Astarion even knew why for a good deal of it himself. I can picture him going over and over any passing interactions they ever had (if they even had any) desperately trying to piece together why me, what could I have done differently, how could I have avoided this hell.
Then, at some point, in the brief moments when his mind is somewhat cleared and after he has heard enough vague, cryptic remarks out of Cazador's mouth about his looks, about his attitude, about how he must think he's too good to do what he does, it hits him: If I had just said yes, none of this would have happened. It would have been a brief moment of disgust, but then it would have been over.
And you beat yourself over it almost much as you feel shame. You're embarrassed. Because you've now had to endure all this torment just because you said no to the wrong man - a matter of picking the bad choice at 50/50 odds. Not only that - but you were apparently so worthless to the world that this small mistake was enough to doom you for all eternity: It was, apparently, all you were worth. And he has made that abundantly clear by what he puts you up to now.
So, when someone asks you why it happened, you give them a better reason. One that at least highlights other things you were good at. They probably wouldn't believe you if you told them the truth, anyways.
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zriasstuff · 3 months
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Love is embarrassing
Mattheo Riddle x reader (fluff imagine, idiot in love :3)
Warning: mischaracterization ? maybe. but since he is made up anyway i get to write painfully self indulgent stuff :) anyway click on masterlist for more
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Once you caught his eye, there was no way he wasn’t going to make you his. But you were different from all his other crushes. Around you, he somehow felt…nervous? Mattheo Riddle’s vocabulary certainly didn’t entail “nervous” nor “rejection”, yet those two things consumed him like they never did before.
Of course he would eventually face his fears, but before he got there he would simply have to satisfy himself in other ways. If approaching you wasn’t an option, staring at you from afar definitely was.
And before he forgot, he promised himself that he wouldn’t tell his friends. Not yet at least. He really didn’t feel like being ridiculed for being shy.
Staring from afar turned out to be quite the feasible option. Since you sat across the room from him in most classes, he would only have to put his head in his hand and there you were. The most perfect face he’d ever seen, flowing hair and just the right amount of cute and sexy. Everytime you ran your hand through your hair and flipped them in the most elegant way, his pupils grew wider.
Seeing you awakened the inner protector in him. He just had to be by your side. As long as he wasn't, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy a peaceful day.
And just then his day took a pretty embarrassing turn. “Mr.Riddle, if you could stop staring at ms.y/n for just a second, you would’ve maybe heard my question the first time. But I am going to ask again…”
All the students immediately burst out laughing, his friends being the loudest. They couldn’t help but turn their heads towards you too, to see who the Mattheo Riddle was checking out. You could feel your cheeks heating and tried hiding your face a little. Why did Snape have to be such a prick about him not paying attention…
Mattheo grinned awkwardly at his comment, trying to play it off. Unfortunately his friends weren’t going to let this opportunity to embarrass their boy go.
“AWEEE MATTYS’ GOT A LITTLE CRUSH”, Blaise yelled across the room, causing even more outrageous laughs from everyone.
Tom wasn’t helping by loudly announcing “Don’t say that Blaise. It’s not a little crush, if anything it’s a big boy crush.”
More mocking and laughter followed his doom. He looked over at you, to see how you were reacting. He swore if this was what ruined his chances he would strangle everyone, including Snape, one by one…
It was like you could read his thoughts because instead of the reassuring look he’d hoped for, you were giggling with your friends. The chances were beginning to look slimmer and slimmer.
“That’s enough”, Snape finally chimes in, “quiet down now, or you will all have to write a three page essay.” For the rest of the class Mattheo’s mind kept spinning. How could it not.
Although his friends were idiots ninety nine percent of the time, there were rare moments of wisdom. This time was not one of them. Their advice was simply “stop being such a pussy, mate.” Eloquently put as always, but they had a point. He had to remind himself of who he was again. So what if Snape embarrassed him in front of everyone? Wasn’t he handsome and charming enough for it to just make him seem more adorable?
Eventually you two got to separate yourselves from your friend groups, allowing you to enjoy an actual conversation.
“So am I getting my hopes up for nothing, or were you genuinely staring at me?”, you bluntly ask him. You had to know whether Snape only said that to punish him for no reason, or if he actually had a point.
“What do you think, gorgeous?”, he cheekily replies. “I wonder how anyone could not stare at someone as pretty as you”
“You’re so stupid”, you chuckle at his attempt to charm you.
“Stupid is not something you should be calling your future boyfriend you know”
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lune-redd · 5 months
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Hello, it's Lelly.
As you may know, I have recently deactivated my Twitter account. A lot of people are speculating I left because I was being harassed for drawing my older depiction of Bubbles from The Powerpuff Girls as chubby. However... that's not the direct reason I left. In fact, I didn't really see much of the comments of folks on there getting riled up about it as I muted the tweet the morning I saw that it blew up. I was only merely aware of it all by being told about it from friends, with there being some other users on the site making other really fuckin' stupid comments about my art.
This does however lead into why I actually left Twitter, and it's because of Twitter's overall toxic nature. Overtime, I've really gotten sick of how absolutely revolting Twitter has become to experience. The site is basically built around dunk culture and doom scrolling. You know that one tweet of someone making an example of Twitter's utter stupidity by using pancakes and waffles as an example?
I bring this up because I think this fits my point about how Twitter has this thing of assuming the absolute worst about the most insignificant things, even the most innocuous. The "Bubbles obesity" comments weren't the only stupid comments that came out of that post. I also got a quote retweet that I was "forcefully feminizing Buttercup", even though the whole fucking point of that drawing was to depict a usually tough character in an unusual situation for her. I have also gotten stupid comments on other drawings though, like the one where Mitch pushes Buttercup down for trying to look taller than she is and I got called a misogynist for it, though I'm pretty sure that one was bait (Twitter users have a tough time figuring out what is and isn't bait, it's dunk culture that I'm about to talk about really doesn't help this).
The site's dunk culture is also really fuckin' bad. Quote retweets are a disease, as unlike Tumblr's reblog comments, quote retweets count as a different post. Someone disagrees with you? Show your audience how stupid they are on your page! Hey, are you trying not to see the most abhorrent racist statement imaginable? Well TOO BAD FUCK YOU here's a le epic own giving them all the attention in the world even though one of the most common internet rules are DON'T FEED THE FUCKIN' TROLLS YOU IDIOT. Oh hey, are you trying to explain how you prefer a certain artistic choice over another in something you like? Well you're a deranged ungrateful whiny nitpicker, get owned!
I've seen so many of my friends be belittled for simply discussing their artistic preferences of things they're passionate about. I had a friend who said he prefers the original Crash Bandicoot design over his redesigned look in Crash 4, and had legitimate reasons for why he felt that way (even if he didn't really explain them clearly), and he got dunked for it which made me mad. I'm sick and tired of it all. The reaction to my art is only a mere example of the shit I despise about that site.
I had been planning on leaving Twitter for quite some time, as my follower count was growing nearer and nearer to 10K. I had planned on leaving after 10K followers because that amount was wayyyy too fuckin big for me to handle. I'm a young and growing lad, and I felt it wouldn't be good for my mental sanity to handle all that, so I dipped. The amount of attention I've been getting is simultaneously both wonderful and extremely overwhelming. Even the explosion of new followers and asks on here is quite the load! (Seriously, calm the fuck down y'all) I am very grateful for all the supportive asks I've gotten even though I won't be able to answer them all, thank you all so very much.
tl;dr I didn't leave Twitter because I was being harassed or anything, but rather because of the site's overall toxic and belittling environment.
Adios.
-Lelly
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...
...Idiot.
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You're an idiot, Pure Vanilla cookie. To think that you, of all cookies...
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Could even hope to help her...
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Much less the others. Even now, you can barely keep up your facade. You put yourself back together with the false promise of hope.
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Your warm smile cannot fool me.
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I am you. Behind closed doors I can hear your cries. Your anguish.
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Your pain and misery. Your helplessness.
"I'm so useless", you wail, "how did it end up so dire?!"
Deep down, you know why. Your efforts, however desperate, are futile. You cannot stop this. You are doomed to watch them all fall to themselves, and you cannot change fate. That is the knowledge you wish to erase.
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If only you saw it sooner.
If only you noticed that things were unraveling in front of your very eyes, maybe you could have prevented this.
If only you saw. Her famine. His wrath. Her desperation. Her silence.
You're supposed to know better.
Be better.
You're supposed to save them.
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But you can't even save yourself.
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finalgirllx · 6 months
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thought you hated me | mattheo riddle entry 1 of a little anthology series i am starting with mattheo. as a way to practice writing without committing to a long series, i'll be writing a few blurbs for him based on the 'enemies to lovers' trope. 1.1k words | nsfw | minors dni | f!reader this is also a thank you for 2000 followers, like holy cow. that's insane. thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has supported my nonsense.
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"Hey, hey! Watch it! The recipe calls for a scoop of rose petals, not the entire bloody jar," you scold the curly-haired prick. He abided by your warning, much to your surprise, but not without tilting the jar above the cauldron a few extra times just to savor your irritation. You can't help but wonder what past mistakes led you to be doomed by fate to be partnered with Mattheo Riddle for potions class.
The whole school was aware of your mutual hatred, and neither of you made any effort to conceal it. It had been this way for so long that you couldn't even pinpoint why you hated him. Well, besides his utterly insufferable personality and a pisspoor attitude that not even his stellar good looks could redeem.
"He's an arrogant prick." "What a wretched tart." "A hotheaded muppet." "An absolute menace to civil society."
These were just a few recent jabs exchanged between you, either spoken directly or whispered through the grapevine. As long as everyone knows how much you despise each other, it suffices.
After your taunt over the rose petals, Mattheo's gaze bore into you beneath impossibly full eyelashes before he released a huff of pure disdain at your rigidity.
"You can piss off with that attitude. I say the one of us who didn't cause an explosion in class last week gets the bigger say over our potion-making," Mattheo countered, to which you promptly stood at attention and turned to face him, hands planted firmly on your hips.
"If that's the qualification, then I've had the upper hand practically every week this entire term! I cause one explosion, and you think you're all that," you argued back, to which Mattheo responded with a tired eye roll before he fixed his spiteful gaze fully on you.
"Well, I do have the right. Especially when you caused the explosion by staring at Cormac fucking McLaggen while biting your lip like an idiot," he grumbled, his voice lowered but the intensity still sending a shiver down your spine. You knew the implications of his words and that the facade could crumble under the man's temper in moments if you didn't tread forward lightly.
"Yeah, well, I don't see why you'd care, but I'll keep my eyes off of him," you begrudgingly relented with a shrug. You would have given him an earful with just about any other provocation, but what he could risk revealing over this wasn't worth continuing to bicker over.
"Good girl," Mattheo purrs the next time he leans closer to grab an ingredient, quiet enough so only you could hear, causing the heat rising between you to stay put. "Guess I'll need to find another reason to cave the bloke's face in," he adds, much to your dismay. You wanted to say something then, but the professor's perfectly timed interjection to order you both to focus on your work momentarily set the matter aside. -----------------
"Are you really going to make an arse of yourself and beat up Cormac if he and I so much as exchange a glance?" You questioned Mattheo incredulously as he hastily pulled you into a nearby empty broom closet with little resistance from yourself. The door had barely clicked shut before he tore off his robe and moved on to remove yours.
"You want to fucking try something? See how that works out for you, I'll make your ass red for weeks," Mattheo growled into your ear as his hands roamed your still-clothed torso, finding purchase on your breasts as he began to knead them, growing desperate for skin-to-skin contact. Your insolence had gotten him painfully turned on, urging him to handle your attitude with touches he knew would render you pliant. The whimpers his groping solicited from you had become the answer to his prayers.
This little arrangement had become second nature to you by now. You give Mattheo lip, which gets him riled up, so you both seek a release for your pent-up frustrations by way of you taking his dick. Each time, without fail, you two agree that this would be the last time. But having 'hated' each other for so long, you know just how to test the other's patience, him becoming as weak to your taunts as you are to his touch.
"Care so much about who I'm looking at, huh?" you mocked Mattheo as he attempted to undo the buttons on your top, his thought capacity overridden by lust. "I thought you hated me," you continued to bait him with a hint of amusement to mask the genuine curiosity for what he might say. A gasp escaped you when Mattheo removed one hand from your chest to take your chin in between two fingers, lifting your head to meet his eyes that were already ruining you in his mind. He pressed his body against yours, letting you feel his hardness through his trousers.
"You know I fucking hate you," Mattheo replied through gritted teeth, his ferocity laced with arousal. "Doesn't mean anyone gets a glimpse of what's mine."
Your lips pulled into a smirk contentedly in response, not the least bit intimidated by him. In fact, you were pretty proud to have evoked such a reaction out of him. Sure, maybe you felt afraid for Cormac, but after witnessing Mattheo Riddle get on his knees to beg for your pussy, it had become difficult to take his threats seriously. The man was down bad, and you relished in the way you could reduce him to a needy mess, though he probably felt similar when you turned into a babbling slut every time he made you cum on his cock. If anything, the rage made you just as greedy for him as he was for you.
You took the lead in removing the rest of your top, freeing Mattheo so he could bury his face in your neck, latching on and sucking the skin to leave noticeable, possessive marks. He proceeded to cover you with hot kisses that trailed further down your chest, with each unclasped button giving him more space to work with until your top was fully removed and strewn on the floor with abandon. He sunk to his knees before you, letting you ensnare one hand in his hair to brace yourself as he took the peak of one of your breasts in his mouth, which brought a moan from your lips. Forgetting the animosity and allowing pleasure to take over, you've all but given up on believing that this time would be the last.
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hyewka · 1 year
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love me | c.bg
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synopsis; maybe starting a sexual relationship with a friend that is so clearly in love with you isn't the best idea you've had in a while, but god knows how much longer you could stay sexually frustrated with your boyfriend...and plus, he offers himself to you! how could you refuse?
or in which your best friend so graciously offers to satisfy your very stale sex life.
warnings; sub!gyu, dom!reader, fwb, sensitive gyu, thigh humping, gyu cums in his pants, infidelity!!! not proofread, i had no direction for this whatsoever lol
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You couldn't hide the way your mouth fell open at your best friend's suggestion, so out of left field you couldn't help but laugh before fully processing the fact that he was serious.
"What."
"Don't look at me like that! I...I don't know, you just keep complaining, so I was just like, why not. I mean, I don't mind." You still gape at him, the way he was so casually on his phone as if he didn't just ask you to use him for your sexual pleasure.
And as if he didn't just completely ignore the fact that you had someone you've already committed yourself to!
Like he's reading your mind, Beomgyu speaks up again, looking at you this time as if attempting to persuade you. "It's not cheating if we don't kiss."
You would've laughed again at the bogus logic if this wasn't the situation that it was. You're a doting girlfriend, you admire your man, but it's been years and there hasn't been a single improvement made in the bedroom. You've tried the talking, guiding, everything!
But it seemed no matter what, you were left high up dry. You were sexually incompatible with the man you wholeheartedly believe are in love with.
You haven't been wanting to come in terms with that, choosing denial. If you follow through with Beomgyu's offer, it would be like actually admitting to the doom that is threatening your otherwise perfect relationship.
And the fact that it's Beomgyu, your best friend...makes you a little hesitant. You're not an idiot, at least about Beomgyu. Hes never been fond of your boyfriend, or... any of your boyfriends for that matter. You had a hint of why.
He continues when he catches the way you were at least giving it a thought. "Just saying, I'm your friend...and, and I obviously want the best for you. And he's obviously not making you happy with his sloppy sex skills."
You narrow your eyes at him, offended with the unnecessary jab--your lovely did not lack in the sex field, he just...didn't know how to use his tools...correctly.
"I don't want you stuck living like a nun for the rest your life," You wince-- for the rest of your life? He awkwardly purses his lips. "You know...like, if you end up marrying him or something."
You turn away from him, brows furrowed as you pondered. You definitely aren't prepared to be in a sexless marriage.
Choosing to take a glance to him one more time-- he was attempting to seem nonchalant, but you pride yourself on knowing him more than he knew himself.
Beomgyu wasn't the hardest person to read anyway, at least not with his eyes puppy-like, long fringe gently brushing over them, showing that he was eagerly awaiting a response from you.
There was no way you would do this...right?
---𓆩♡𓆪
Getting comfortable on the couch, rewatching your favorite most beloved sitcom while having your best friend's face buried in between your legs...is a unique experience. One you've been revisiting for a little too long now, to the point the pain of his nails digging into the flush of your thighs doesn't faze you anymore. You instead liked it, the way he got so worked up over making you feel good.
It's not like you haven't tried ending it. Every time you told Beomgyu it was over, that you were done with whatever you had with him, he'd somehow find a way to convince you with just one video.
Usually faceless as he focused his phone camera on his crotch, clearly hard as his bulge is outlined through his sweats-- palming it as he whined, saying oh how he just misses you. You miss him too right?
You'd feel your jaw tick whenever he mentions your boyfriend in his silly videos, but the irritation is quickly left at bay when he finally takes his dick out, sniffles heard in the audio-- frantic as he jerks off, his red swollen tip already leaking. Gosh, could he be any more indecent?
You weren't really in the place to judge, because every time, your thighs would rub together in attempt to get rid of the heat surfacing in between, eyes focused on every detail on your phone.
He never made it easy, especially when he'd use his eyes against you by the end, a flash of his face being the highlight of the short thirty seconds, brows pointed upward as he whispers his final 'miss you' through a pout.
Fuck, what a weakness. His eyes.
Especially now, when he makes sure to look at you as he sloppily ate you out, with those same doe-eyed look, tears making his long lashes prettier.
You place your hand on the messiness of his hair, playing with strands before you look away from his eyes, focusing on the scene you've watched a hundred times before, a fond smile making way onto your lips. It's the one your boyfriend declared it being you guys's 'official' show-- which you hadn't minded, it was funny.
You still end up chuckling at the jokes you've already seen, the delivery never failing to make you tearing up from pure laughter. But it seems like that pisses Beomgyu off, as he whines against your pussy, tongue working to get your attention again. When it's clear that that was a failed attempt, your eyes still focused on the TV, he raises his head. "Are you bored?"
You tear your eyes away to the boy, tilting your head at the sudden question. His lips were glistening, red, forming a pout, clearly insecure. You huff out a laugh through your nose, "That's such a stupid question."
"No it's not. You're focused on the stupid show and not me!" You roll your eyes, unfortunately for you, everyone has flaws, Beomgyu not being an exception-- his was and has always been his tendency to crave full attention on him.
"Am I ...am I not making you feel good?" his voice this time is softer, craving to hear a denial to his insecurities.
You sigh, another weak spot. When Beomgyu's voice cracks in attempt to swallow his tears, your heart cracks.
You're quick to soak up his insecure figure. "Beomgyu, no. Of course you're making me feel good." You feel him calm down, body releasing its previous tension. He rests his head on your tummy, allowing you to play with his hair again, "Yeah?"
"Mhm," you hum. In attempt to lighten the mood a little, you tease, "Am I allowed to watch my show now?"
He nods against your shirts fabric. You smile, your eyes going from him to the TV screen. He just lays his head on your tummy, watching the show with you, arms around your waist. It's strangely intimate, but you dismiss the feeling.
He eventually goes back down on you, and you make sure to turn off the screen, providing him with your full attention. Beomgyu was always good with his mouth so it's no surprise he got you to finish. What's surprising is that he ends it there-- no reason for you to scold him for trying to take more than he was allowed.
"Good boy..." you murmur into his hair, you mean it. Though you were prepared for it, you weren't really in the mood to deep clean your couch again.
Your lids are heavy, almost drifting to sleep but sure enough, you feel Beomgyu's lower half moving against your leg. You think he's just shifting his position so you ignore it, but you quickly learn its something less innocent than that. "You're going to stain my couch again?"
Maybe Beomgyu didn't have his self control in check after all.
He suddenly stops and you try your best to not laugh-- it's like he was caught stealing something. "Go on, as a sorry for not paying attention to you. You deserve it."
He whines against your neck as if to thank you before his hips start rocking against your outstretched leg, quickly turning frantic as his breathing gets heavier. In an attempt to not make this further than it had to be, you never let Beomgyu enter you, only giving him the option of getting off from your thighs.
He audibly complained to you before, but he quickly learned to comply if it meant you wouldn't stop this relationship, adjusting to pathetically humping your leg. You've always been disapproving of his attempt to give you hickeys, it was rightfully risky, but Beomgyu was a horny dog, not able to control the urge to start sucking on the flesh of your skin.
You didn't have the power to stop him, especially when he knew all the right places to nip and slightly pull, choosing that you'll have to cover it up well later. His mind is eventually too cloudy to focus on giving you hickeys, whining with his head buried between your chest. Which makes it easier for your attention to be caught by the sudden light of your phone.
You reach out for it on top of the small coffee table in front of you, disrupting Beomgyu's rhythm for a second, but he doesn't fail to pick it up again-- it's cute, how he gets so worked up.
Your current mood is soured when you see a text notification from your boyfriend, your eyes then immediately travelling up to the time. Shit.
You have to finish this fast before he starts suspecting. You bite down on your lips, still staring at the text that reads, 'When are you coming?' Fuck, how could you forget about the date?
"Y/N...pay attention to me." he whines, making you spare a glance down on him. Beomgyu's head raises, with sniffles, flashing you his puppy eyes. You sigh, discarding your phone before you decide to quicken this-- instead of just laying there for your body to be used, you trail your hand up his shirt.
He shakes his head whimpering, hair messy over his eyes, but you ignore it. Your calloused fingers on his bud sends Beomgyu's head to overdrive, and you know it. Your thumb brushes over the puffy pink of his nipple, and it was over for him.
You catch the hot tears running down his cheeks for a split second before his head falls, hair over his face, humiliated as you continue to rub. "Baby...you're so pretty." you coo, getting his hips to fasten against your thigh, his slender body shaking.
His breathing strains against the fabric of your shirt, whines from the back of his throat, and you feel warmth spread between your legs, signalling that he soiled his pants. But he doesn't slow his movement, still humping your leg. Bad boy.
You're about to scold him but his incoherent whispers become louder, and now they're more than clear to your ears. "I love you, I love you, I love you so much."
You squeeze your eyes shut-- fuck. "Beomgyu..." you try your voice soft, but he's not willing to listen, shaking his head again, sniffling. He tightens his hold around your waist, "I won't let you go. Just forget about him, please forget about him. I love you so much."
In response to your silence, he raises his head from your body meekly, his dark eyes made bright and sparkling with sweet, needy tears, face flushed. "Love me too...please?"
God, what have you done.
----
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princeoftheeternalbog · 6 months
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Would op boys catch you if you fell? Lets find out next time on dragonball- no sorry it just reminded me of that narrator ANYWAYS.
I only did boys because i didnt have much inspi for Nami and Robin so i decided to wait until i do cos I don't wanna half arse stuff.
So anyways I feel like I saw someone do this idea already but it might've been just one character like a law x reader? I'm not sure but I would love to tag them so if you know please tell me ! I will also try to make sure mine is different :p.
Luffy
Depends. Like if he's fighting or eating then probably not but if he thinks you might get hurt then he will 100% attempt to catch you. Key word being attempt. Poor boy probably makes the fall 10x worse, like if you trip on one step you're suddenly falling down the entire flight of stairs with a weight on top of you. He will apologise though so at least there's that.
Zoro
He always catches you. Or prevents the fall in the first place. He tells himself it's so you're not unnecessarily out of commission for a fight but really he's a huge softie. Though he always catches you really ungracefully, llike there’s no princess carrying here, he's holding you upside down by the ankle with one hand fr. He scolds you every time too like- "Why do you never watch where you're going" or "Tie your shoes next time idiot", which you should hear as "I can't stand watching you get hurt". Cutie:(
Sanji
Oh you know he does. He lives for romance and what's more romantic than saving your beloved from certain doom (tripping on a rock). Oh he also does it in the most dramatic way possible, he'd rather throw himself to the ground underneath you then let you hit the floor, he's doing twirls, picking you up with one arm, occasionally will throw you in the air first so he can rearrange what he's holding. Menace tbh, like he's just obsessed with teasing you in any way possible.
Usopp
Another one who tries his best…tries🙁. He's always so dramatic about it too, he literally screams your name like you're in a horror movie and everyone is always like "WHAT'S WRONG?!" and Usopps just "Oh they tripped on a step". He either injures one of you in his attempt to catch you OR you both end up in the most compromising positions just as someone walks past . He goes so red trying to explain the situation while also trying to check if youre okay😭.
Franky
Oh every time and it’s smooth as hell every single time. Says super cheesy lines every time like “OWWWW GUESS YOU FELL FOR ME BABE”, and he gets sparkly eyed every time, he loves romance as a genre and finds it superrrrrrrr(😚) cute when something happens that matches a trope he's read. If he didn't catch you he'd probably panic and constantly apologise but just give him a kiss and he'll forget about it soon enough.
Brook
Catches you every time, really gently and really romantically. Instead of just full on catching you, he'll purposefully slow your momentum to minimise injuries in case his attempt at grabbing you fails because then you'd both fall and he'd rather not. Like if you trip into him then he'll pull you both into a delicate spin type of dancing and you're like huh??? He thinks its a really cute trait to be honest but it also makes him really worried about your safety so he likes to keep one hand on you at all times.
Jinbei
Catches you as often as he can, like he won't sprint across the ship to stop you from falling but as long as you're in his reach you will never hit the ground. And he always catches you really gently like you barely feel the impact so sometimes you won't even notice you've tripped until later when you see the scuff on your shoe or something. He really likes holding your hand to make sure you ‘keep your balance’.
Law
He doesn't want to look soft so he tries to force himself not to catch you for just harmless falls...yeah no that doesn't work. As soon as he sees you losing balance you hear that ever familiar room, shambles and then you're in his arms. If it's later in your relationship then he's a menace, he will use this to tease you, like "Oh. Looks like an angel fell into my arms" with this stupid ass smug smirk. He's just really obsessed with you.
Kidd
Catches you most of the time unless it's gonna be really funny. Also he catches you super awkwardly, like he's so obsessed with you but he never knows where to put his hands because hes not used to giving affection so it's like just in the most ungraceful ways. You are literally being held up by his arm around your thigh or something and you're like what the fuck and he's just stood there 🧍🏻‍♀️.
Killer
Prevents the tripping and catches you if necessary. But if you're too clumsy then he just starts getting huffy and hauls you up into his arms so there's no risk of you falling whatsover...and then you bang your head against the ceiling- He probably feels so bad if you get hurt because of him to be honest, he tries so hard to make you happy yk. Anyways at some point he just starts adding cushion to all the potentially harmful areas on the ship so even if you do fall it doesn't hurt.
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fangswbenefits · 9 months
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The Arrangement (11) - First Light
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Chapter summary: A much needed discussion takes place and it ends with Astarion coating his daggers with poison.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past trauma. Mentions of oral sex. Blood drinking,
Word count: 4.3k
Author's note: I am still unable to reply to comments (I'm waiting for tumblr support to fix this... I read all of the, I promise. You can also send and ask or head to ao3 so I can reply there. Thank you!
Series masterlist
Ao3
Wyll Ravengard was the picture-perfect of integrity.
Well, if you were to exclude his past dealings with the half-devil Mizora. But even then, he had been mostly justified in his assessment of the situation.
So it came as no surprise when you weren't able to find a single trace of judgement on his face.
Only evident concern.
Shadowheart had quickly filled him in on the Waterdeep situation as well as provided him with enough context when it came to Ava.
“Well, this is a… mess,” Wyll eventually drawled out.
Astarion, who was sitting to your right, immediately snickered. “Understatement of the year.”
Shadowheart, who was sitting to you left, promptly quipped, “I wonder whose fault that is.”
He leaned forward to glance at her. “Darling, all that pent-up frustration must–”
You heaved a deep sigh as you nudged him with your elbow, not in the mood to moderate their venomous exchange. “Enough!”
Wyll took a seat across from yours as a Fist stood by his side, hand clasping the handle of his sword in a silent warning.
“You should have told me about your arrangement with Ava,” he said, locking eyes with you. “I know all too well how some propositions are just rotten from the start and doomed to fail.”
Tension and guilt settled in the pit of your stomach.
Not even half an hour ago, you had been able to momentarily push aside the chaos that had been hurled at you in such short notice.
“It seemed like a fair exchange – if her words are to be believed, that is,” you said.
Wyll tensed up. “There is nothing fair about offering your blood to bloodthirsty fiends as an exchange.” He then glanced at Astarion. “No offense.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “None taken, darling.”
But Wyll did have a point even if your arrangement with Astarion was nothing akin to the one with Ava.
Yet…
“Nothing is set in stone. I don't have to go through with any of it.”
From beside you, Shadowheart managed an irritable look. “I cannot be the only one who finds all of this rather convenient. Even if there is someone connected to Cazador after you, why would she withhold that information? Doesn't she need you safe and sound, Astarion?”
“I suppose so, but who's to say? I would need to talk to her,” he said, eyes on Wyll. “I have to talk to her.”
Wyll immediately understood the implication in his words. “Now?”
“Well, obviously not now,” he said indignantly.
The sun was still up and dusk was hours away. 
“I don't think that's a good idea,” you intervened, heart racing in your chest. “We need to find out first if there's something that links all of this to Ava.”
“Regardless of that, she still needs to answer for her deranged proposition,” Astarion replied.
Shadowheart scoffed. “You were the one who endangered her in the first place with that bizarre deal.”
He was on his feet faster than you could blink, scowling. “Do not make the idiotic mistake of thinking you are the only one here who cares for her.”
She rose from the sofa, matching his defyance. “Oh, I am sure you care for her – in your own twisted way.”
“Can you two stop it?” you half-shouted, coming to stand in between them before he could retort. “This is pointless!”
They glared at each other in silence for a moment before parting ways, with Astarion sinking down on a chair whilst Shadowheart began pacing around the room, evidently distressed.
“My friends, we need to think critically here,” Wyll spoke again. “Arguing with each other is the last thing we ought to do right now.”
Silence followed as tension dispersed.
“Now, as we wait for Lae'zel and Gale to return, I must ask a few questions, Astarion.”
He crossed his arms. “Oh, this should be fun.”
Wyll ignored his snarky remark, assuming a more serious demeanour. “Why would you resort to her in the first place? Was her promise more solid than the Wish spell?”
“There were no promises made,” he said acidly, a nerve clearly having been struck. “She’s merely experimenting and the prospect seemed too good to pass.”
“So, your blood for a way to lessen your vampiric hunger? That was the deal?”
A cold shiver ran down your spine and you watched as Astarion tensed up slightly.
He had never shared with them just how deep the horrors he endured under Cazador's command truly twisted inside him.
How all of it had taken a toll on his ability to be intimate with someone without feeling tainted.
How it had ultimately driven him into striking a deal with someone like Ava as despair took root.
And it wasn't your place to reveal any of it.
So you merely sat back and observed him in silence.
“It seemed good enough back then,” he said coolly. “Besides, it could also be helpful to the spawn in the Underdark.”
That had Wyll arch an eyebrow. “The spawn?”
“Petras has been sending letters to report back, and – well, let's just say that dealing with 7,000 hungry vampire spawn isn't an easy feat,” he said. “I figured that if her experiment were to be successful, then it'd be beneficial for them as well.”
Oh.
Shadowheart waggled her eyebrows as her feet came to a halt. “So you weren't merely thinking about yourself?”
“Initially, yes. Of course.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
“However, I was the one who doomed them to eternal hunger, so it seemed fitting I'd help.”
“They were doomed either way,” you quickly pointed out. “And it was Cazador's doing.”
His head turned to you. “Be it as it may, their hunger isn't sated for long. I know that all too well.”
Astarion wasn't exactly the epitome of selflessness, but you knew he had come to change some of his ways in the past few weeks after all the events that had unfolded.
And when it came to his own hunger, you figured old habits did die hard.
His eyes then landed on your neck for a moment before looking away.
“I reckon I already know the answer to this, but did you even plan ahead?” Shadowheart said, crossing her arms. “How would you even make this feasible for thousands of spawn with just your own blood? Or were they really just an afterthought?”
Astarion narrowed his eyes. “Ava was handling the … logistics, shall we say. My blood would be the starting point, but not a requirement.”
She scoffed in utter disbelief. “And you took her word for it… blindly. You simply trusted some monster hunter with a blood fetish? This is ridiculous even for you.”
He was definitely a passionate admirer of the ‘laugh now, cry later’ school of thought, which also meant that when the consequences hit… they would hit hard.
“It's not like progress was being made with the Wish spell, sweetheart,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I saw an opportunity and I took it.”
A chill rushed through you like a knife. “Only a few weeks had passed, Astarion. All you had to do was wait–”
And then he snapped. His seemingly calm demeanour finally cracking open and revealing the hurt underneath.
“For centuries, all I did was wait! There were times I wished he would just destroy me once and for all to rid me of the burden of being ‘alive’ under such conditions,” he snarled, rising from the chair as he faced you. “I turned away from all that power I could have – the ritual… everything! I – I just…” His voice faltered and he heaved a sigh, reining back his outrage as his face softened into that expression that just broke you. “Is it such a crime that I want better for myself?”
You shook your head, feeling for him, but… “These things take time. Despair leads to rushed actions.”
He grimaced. “So you'd have me turn to hope?”
“Yes.”
He clicked his tongue. “There's nothing quite as cruel as hope, darling.”
You heard Wyll let out an exasperated sigh from across the room. “Astarion, I will not judge you for the decision you made to mingle with Ava – you had your reasons. But the consequences seem severe enough even if she isn't involved in either of the killings.”
He remained silent.
“It's not just about you anymore. She took an interest in her blood and is now using it as a bargaining chip,” he said. “That is unacceptable.”
“I fully agree with Wyll,” Shadowheart said as she came to sit next to you once again.
“And that is why you'll let me go to her,” Astarion said.
“You're still under house arrest. The Council of Four will–”
“To Hells with them all!” Astarion said through clenched teeth, fangs peeking through. “We're your friends, are we not? And since you're so adamant about my fault in this, allow me to set things right.”
“A good call,” Shadowheart chimed in with a nod.
Wyll seemed taken aback by his words and his frown deepened. “I may have the final word as the Grand Duke, but I cannot consciously go against a collective ruling.”
“The circumstances have changed,” Astarion retorted simply. “I will go to her and you're free to have your Fists point a thousand stakes at me along the way if it eases your mind.”
You could tell Wyll felt torn between duty and reasoning, and you didn't envy him in the slightest.
“You don't understand the consequences of–”
Astarion's face darkened and a devious smile tugged at his lips. “Oh, darling. I do understand. I simply do not care.”
Wyll took a deep breath, clearly realising he was fighting a losing battle.
He turned to face the Fist by his side. “Send word to the Council.”
The tall and broad man nodded before exiting through the front door.
“You can't be serious,” Astarion scoffed. “You should have kept this between us. They don't have to know.”
But Wyll merely shook his head. “We can do things your way and my way.”
Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. 
“I'm coming with you,” you said, fully determined..
Shadowheart immediately gripped your arm firmly. “No.”
Wyll rose from his seat. “He shall not go alone, but you don't need to get more involved in this than you already are.”
Astarion turned to face you and raised one hand. “Absolutely not. You stay.”
That made your blood boil almost instantly and a flash of anger crossed your face. “I can fend for myself. Just let me–”
But your words were muffled by a deafening swirling and pulsing sound that came from outside.
In no time, the door was slammed open as a visibly irritated Lae'zel stormed inside.
“Tsk'va! Mages and their nauseating portals,” she grumbled before closing the door shut and plunging the room in candlelight once again. “Almost spilled the contents of my stomach. Twice.”
Both you and Shadowheart flocked to her side and you spoke first, “Are you alright? Where’s Gale?”
She nodded dismissively, placing her esteemed greatsword on the long table. “He stayed behind to converse with a few of his acquaintances, trying to make sense of what happened.”
“Well? What happened, then?” Astarion asked as he approached the three with you with Wyll right behind him.
“The man succumbed to a multitude of slashing wounds.”
Your eyes widened as you gasped.
“Slashing wounds? Was it an animal? A monster?” Wyll immediately pressed.
“We do not know. It was a rather brutal sight even for someone like me,” Lae'zel said with a frown.
A shiver spread across your body and you felt nauseous all of a sudden.
“Was there anything odd about it?” Shadowheart asked.
“Because a man being brutally shredded to pieces isn't odd enough?” Astarion said with a scoff.
She ignored him. “Were there traces of necrotic magic?”
Lae'zel arched a brow. “No. What's with this interrogation?”
Shadowheart was definitely trying to find a common element between the two deaths… and Ava.
And it seemed that there was nothing there.
Yet.
“We are trying to figure out if Ava could have had a hand in this.”
Lae'zel didn't budge. “Who?”
“Ava.”
Lae'zel turned to Astarion. “Your hairdresser?”
This time, Shadowheart clicked her tongue impatiently, hands on her hips. “Astarion struck a deal with some monster hunter turned blood merchant and got her involved.” She extended one arm to at you. “This Ava woman now wants her blood for whatever nefarious reason and might also be the one to blame for the death that led to them getting arrest and – quite possibly – the one from today.”
Your eyes widened, quite astonished that she was able to spill all that information in one swift breath. 
If the circumstances weren't quite so dire, you would also have chuckled from how she sounded like a child who was telling her strict parent on her misbehaving sibling.
Astarion was obviously offended. “Conveniently leaving out the part where I am entitled to mingling with whomever I want, and that I was completely oblivious to Ava's finding and her proposal.”
Lae'zel glanced at you. “What proposal?”
“It's fine. Don't worry. I won't go through with any of it,” you said reassuringly, placing your hand on her wrist, knowing fully well she was itching to swing her sword on him. “This is all one big mess, but he truly didn't know.”
Shadowheart growled. “You do not have to keep defending him!”
Wyll spoke before you could. “Shadowheart. I understand your indignation, but we need to move on from the constant pointless bickering. What is done is done.”
Astarion clapped thrice. “Ah! The voice of reason!”
She threw him a death glare before crossing her arms and tapping her foot irritably on the floor, but not uttering another word.
Lae'zel, on the other hand, had her narrowed eyes set on Astarion. “You are fortunate she adores that pretty head attached to your body.”
“Was that a compliment, Lae'zel?” he taunted.
“Your ability to turn any remark into an opportunity to feed your ego is truly astounding, Astarion.”
He smirked happily in response. “I do my best – or worst, depending on your taste.”
“Enough of this,” you interjected as you stared at Lae'zel. “When is Gale returning?”
She shrugged. “Unclear. He is also trying to find another contact who might help out with the Wish spell.”
“No.”
All heads turned to Astarion.
His brows knitted together. “No. No one else is getting involved until we figure out what is happening.”
Your eyes met his in mingled surprise and confusion. 
Even Shadowheart was stunned silent as her face softened.
“I thought you wanted this more than anything,” Wyll asked.
“Well, yes. But not when people are turning up dead all around me.”
Lae'zel frowned. “So, all of this for nothing? Had a sudden change of heart about your inability to walk in the sun again?”
He rolled his eyes. “Heavens forbid I'm the one pointing the moral compass in the right direction. Don't act so surprised, darling. I still know what I want and what I need to do.”
You closed the distance between you and him, worry brewing in your heart.
“Astarion, the Wish spell isn't easy to come by. It's not easy to find someone willing to teach it and Gale is a powerful wizard and strong candidate,” you said, trying to reason with him as you placed a hand on his arm. “I understand your reluctance, but we might have to wait even longer if this opportunity is disregarded.”
He didn't even flinch. “This is ultimately my choice, and I choose to wait. I've had it with others dictating how I should feel and act. This is the sensible thing to do.”
For centuries, he had belonged to everyone – to anyone – but himself. 
Both in body and mind. 
So, if this was what he truly thought was best for him, who were you to deny him of it? Maybe you would have chosen differently, but this wasn't truly about you, was it?
He would tell you otherwise, of course. That you had been the stepping stone to his healing process since the nautiloid crash, but you couldn't and wouldn't take full credit for it.
This was a joint effort and you would empower him all the way through.
“I stand with you,” you said eventually said, breaking the silence.
He gradually relaxed under your touch.
Shadowheart spoke next, “I respect your decision, Astarion. We need to see if there is a link between the two deaths. I can go ahead through the portal and ask Gale to return.”
He nodded. 
“Very well,” she said with a curt smile.
Wyll approached the door. “I will inform the guards to accompany you once dusk hits, Astarion.”
He nodded again. “Thank you.”
Lae'zel then cursed and left the room with a loud bang behind her as the door closed shut.
Your hand came to his shoulder and his crimson eyes were on you again. “Let me come with you.”
“No.”
You scowled. “I'm not some frail sorcerer. I can stand by your side and help.”
This time, he chuckled. “Sweetheart, you are more capable than most of us combined here. My reluctance doesn't stem from my lack of faith in your abilities,” he said, voice firm and collected. “If anything were to happen to you because of me, I'd never forgive myself. Allow me to handle this.”
Your heart was hammering fast in your chest from his words, and even though you wanted to argue with his decision, you held your tongue back.
In truth, you were mostly scared Ava would have something up her sleeve and hurt him. That was what was eating at your nerves.
But still, you nodded
It was settled then.
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You made your way down the corridor, coming to a halt as the faint glow spilled from inside his room.
The door was open for a change.
A comforting smile curled your lips, knowing you'd find him inside.
As you approached the doorway, you spotted Astarion across the room, flicking through a few pieces of cloth placed on the round table.
You knocked twice on the wood “May I?”
He nodded. “It's your house.”
“Well, it's your room,” you retorted. “For now, at least,” you quickly added, not wanting to seem overbearing. After all, he wasn't ultimately here on his own volition.
“You don't have to keep asking,” he said with a faint smile.
Your eyes landed on his bed as you walked in, causing your heart to skip a beat.
A few hours ago, the two of you had been lost in each other's pleasure on that very same spot. Now, the bedclothes had been laid sprawled across it, no creases or any remaining proof of your earlier endeavour.
The two of you had been robbed of after care and a much needed talk about what had happened.
Even if he had seemed quite content during and after all of it, you found yourself always hung on the fear that you had rushed through it all.
So, you needed the affirmation. You needed to hear his thoughts on it and to ensure no boundaries had been crossed.
You approached the table and your gaze roamed cross the clear vials that he had placed by his twin daggers. 
Odourless.
Colourless.
Poison.
“Lethal?”
He dabbed a selected piece of cloth on the clear liquid. “No.”
An uneasy feeling began to take root. “Do you think she'll try to hurt you?”
“It would be rather foolish of her,” he mused, dragging the damp fabric along each blade, coating them in a fine layer of poison. “But I've been wrong before about people, so – as they say – better safe than sorry.”
It wasn’t the reassurance you were seeking, but Astarion was more than capable when it came to self-defence.
“Besides, she needs me more than I need her,” he concluded, inspecting the glinting blade close to his eyes. “And if she fails to provide satisfactory answers, the Fists will deal with her.”
You nodded, but still failing to push your fear aside. “What if there is really someone after us? What if she's not connected to any of this?”
You had purposefully let out the faint implication that maybe there was a connection to Cazador. He didn't need to be troubled with that in case Ava was bluffing. 
Astarion sheathed both daggers on either side of his waist before his eyes landed on you. “If that is the case, then she will tell me who it is. And she better have a godsdamned good justification for why she thought I would allow you to be involved.”
You absentmindedly bit your lip and he smiled warmly, coming to stand in front of you, wiping his hands clean from any trace of poison.
Silently, he leaned to press a lingering kiss on your forehead, his cool lips making you flinch slightly.
It was as if a surge of lightning had been cast throughout your body, setting you alight.
“About earlier…” you said, swallowing your nervousness.
He traced your jawline with his thumb before tipping your head back so you could properly meet his gaze.
“Darling, already back for another round?”
You broke into laughter. “No! No… that wasn't what I trying to say.”
He tapped your nose lovingly and it was as if the two of you were long-time lovers, used to each other's teases and mannerisms.
Your heart skipped yet another beat.
“I know. Just couldn't miss the opportunity to have you all flustered for me again,” he said with a devious grin. “But do go on.”
“I just want to make sure… it was alright… what we did, I mean,” you said in a whisper.
Astarion's brows furrowed together. “I thought that was pretty much evident…”
A lump swelled in your throat.
You truly didn't want to overstep any lines.
But you had to know. You had to hear it.
“I am talking about… up here,” you said, pressing a finger softly to his temple. “I… just want to make sure you're truly fine. That we're truly fine.”
You held your breath for a moment, dreading a worrisome reply.
He caught hold of your hand and pressed your finger to his lips. “I will always tell you if it's too much.”
A wave of relief washed over you and you allowed yourself to breathe normally.
Still…
You swallowed again. “Promise?”
“I promise, sweetheart,” he said, using your own finger to tap the tip of your nose, earning a heartfelt giggle from you. 
“So… it wasn't too much?”
“No,” he said truthfully.
You nodded as he gripped your chin. “How did it feel?”
He paused for a while, pondering. “It felt… right.”
Your stomach turned and your heart sped up from how close he was to you.
How close he felt to you.
“I want to kiss you,” he said all of a sudden. “May I?”
You felt as though you would melt into a puddle from how desperate he sounded.
“You don't have to always ask,” you said truthfully.
He then pressed his cool lips to the corner of your mouth and you instinctively gasped. “I just adore the sound of your voice when you let me in.”
His lips moved to the opposite side, lingering there, and a rush of heat pooled in your cheeks.
“May I kiss you, darling?” he asked once more, pulling back just enough for his lips to barely touch yours. “May I taste you?”
Gods…
“Please do.”
He didn't need to be told twice.
The kiss started off slow at first as his lips molded into yours. But as soon as you made way for his tongue to slide inside, Astarion became the image of hunger.
He cradled your face in his hands and pressed both thumbs on your chin, so you'd open up wider for him.
A flash of memory filled your mind and you recalled how he used to do the same whenever you were on your knees, struggling to fit his thick cock in your mouth.
“You can take more of me, can't you, my sweet?” he'd say, voice dripping with lust.
You'd always struggle at first. Always. But he was such a caring lover and he would always ensure you took your time.
You quickly shuddered as your clit began throbbing evenly. 
His tongue was as relentless against yours as his cock had once been, but his eagerness and hunger had his razor-like fang nip at your lower lip, drawing blood.
“Shit,” you groaned from the sharp sting.
Astarion immediately pulled back and you stared at him in confusion.
You felt a few drops dribbling down your chin.
Why wasn't he tasting you?
His eyes were fixed on your lips and his eyes narrowed with bloodlust.
“You're letting it go to waste?” you asked, swiping your finger across the bleeding wound.
He swallowed with a strained smile. 
Oh, he was struggling to hold back…
“Well, darling… I don't intend on leaving the house with my cock hard with your blood.”
You clenched so hard you felt a gush of wetness being squeezed out.
But there was only so much Astarion could withstand, so you couldn't fight the moan that tore through your throat as he placed the softest kiss to your lip.
“Just before I go,” he whispered. “So I can take you with me.”
You clenched again and you could feel your clit swell up with each throb.
He eventually parted from you, licking his blood-stained lips as his eyes held that lustful gaze you adored.
“I'll be back soon.”
You were left petrified in place as he swiftly made his way out.
It wasn’t fair how soaked you were.
How soaked he had left you.
You glanced over your shoulder and realised the door had been left open all along and you rushed to the window, tugging on the curtain.
The sun had set as he appeared down below, followed closely by two Fists.
And the single mage slayer.
The three of them trailed after his steps and darted off into the distance.
And you realised that without a mage slayer around to keep your magic at bay, you could simply vanish.
You glanced at the vials of poison on the nearby table and smiled.
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charliemwrites · 10 months
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Part 7 of Charmed Slasher Simon
CW for gore and violence. No smut (yet) this part was already long enough so I’m saving it for part 8
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The carpets are drenched in blood, squish beneath Simon’s boots as he toes a lifeless arm out of the way. Headcount: 5 dead, 6 to go. And you for last.
You, wide eyed and paralyzed as you recognized the skull mask from nearly a year ago. Your manager had to drag you off. Simon’s going to cut his fingers off one by one for that.
Your coworkers are such easy prey. Hapless in the dark with a snowstorm raging outside. Huddling first for warmth and now from fear. You’re trying to gather everyone up; strength in numbers. Not a bad idea. But Simon’s faster and quieter and he’s been picking them off one by one.
The ones you’ve always liked he gives a quick death. A hot spill of blood before they even realize they’re dead. The others though - ones that have reported you to HR, badmouthed you to the boss, so much as stolen a pen. Those he’s been taking special care with, dooming them to long, slow deaths that you always stumble upon too late to do much more than cry and hold their hands.
Oh you’re so pretty like this. It really is the best of you. Too kind for your own good, all that altruism useless against a tidal wave of violence. He loves to watch you be so good.
It’s three more before he finds you again - separated from that manager. All on your own. Simon will have his guts for that as well, since he’s not using them.
He lunges at you, just slow enough that you can duck away as his knife thunks against the wall. Your eyes are so big; he can see the reflection of the mask in them.
You scramble away without looking back like the smart girl you are and Simon grins to himself as he takes his time following. There’s a yelp and then a thump, your quiet curse. Simon rounds the corner but you’re long gone - the smeared blood from you slipping though…
His cock twitches. You, covered in the blood of his victims, your own coworkers…
He rips the mask off and tucks the knife away as he hears voices up ahead. His name in a harsh whisper. He puts on the same terrified look he’s seen a million times, crouches down as he wobbles around the corner.
“Riley!”
You choke off a sob as you stumble to him, hands reaching. He catches you fast, eyes flicking over your shoulder to find Brandon trembling behind the couch.
“Where have you been?!” you murmur, eyes flicking over his face, his body. “oh, god you’re covered in blood!”
“‘S not mine, luv.”
You sniffle, shaking hands gripping at his forearms. “I-it’s awful. I don’t know why this is happening again.”
“It’ll be alright, I’ll keep you safe from him.”
You give him a half-hearted smile. Simon mirrors it, putting on his best survivor face.
“How do you know it’s a ‘he’?” Brandon asks.
Simon levels him a flat look. “Caught a glimpse of him gutting your manager. Big fucking bloke.”
You whimper; he’s all too happy to bundle you in his arms, stain you in crimson. From the other side of the couch, Brandon is staring. Hard.
“Where have you been?”
“Hiding. Like you.”
You pull away, frown at Brandon in confusion.
“Where?” Brandon persists.
Simon narrows his eyes in warning but the wormfood doesn’t take it back.
“Wherever I can,” Simon answers. “Like you.”
“Then why are you covered in so much blood?”
You step between them, as if you could do anything if they did start fighting.
“Brandon, what are you getting at?” You ask. “You don’t seriously think…?”
“Well where the hell did all that blood come from then?!”
Simon scoffs, puts a little hysteria in it. “You think I did all this?! You think I - that I-”
Except once he starts laughing in disbelief, he can’t stop. It’s just too funny. This idiot that can’t recognize something that doesn’t belong to him has Simon clocked in less than five cumulative minutes. Meanwhile, you’ve been orbiting around him like a little moon for months and haven’t had so much as an inkling.
“I can’t,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I can’t keep a straight face. Never was much of an actor.”
The blood is draining from your face as you stare at him, warring with denial burning in your eyes. He coos, slips the mask from his back pocket and waves it in front of your face.
“Been too long since we last did this, eh, luv? Better venue than the hospital at least.”
You whimper, too frightened to even cry properly, all that water and energy going into survival. He takes a single step forward and grins as you nearly trip over yourself getting away.
“Careful, luv. I want a proper chase from you this time.”
But first-
“If you stay right there and give her time to run, I might not flay off all your skin.”
And the fucking coward bolts. Simon tsks in disgust, pulls the mask over his face.
“Looks like you didn’t learn the lesson last time,” he muses to you. “Your friends haven’t got any better. I’ll have to find another way to make the lesson stick.”
You pivot and dart around the couch, sprinting for the same doorway Brandon went through. Simon merrily follows, hopping the couch and letting his boots land hard to warn you that he’s right behind you.
You take sharp corners and double back, thinking that his larger size will make it harder to change directions. It would be smart in any other situation, against anyone else. But this is Simon, and he’s letting you stay just out of reach. Only tugging at your clothes when it seems like you need an extra boost.
As you’re passing through a doorway, there’s an ominous creak. A huge grandfather clock that nearly slams into Simon. You don’t dare look back, taking the next corner and disappearing.
Simon looks up at the landing where the clock used to stand. Brandon is leaning over the railing, white knuckled and despairing. Simon cracks his neck, rolls his shoulders.
“Alright then.”
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mrs-dr-reid · 1 month
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Scary Dog Privilege
(A Wolverine Fic)
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Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader
Summary: The reader practically begs Logan to be her fake boyfriend at a gala, but ends up getting more than she bargained for
Genre: Fluffy throughout, a teensy bit angsty near the end, and a dash of "oh my god, just KISS ALREADY!!!" sprinkled in pretty much everywhere
Warnings: Swearing, suggestive language, fake boyfriend trope, friends to lovers, oblivious idiots in love, more than platonic touches, tw food/alcohol, crying, protective!Logan, the image of Logan in a tux (yes, that's a warning), Tony Stark being... himself, a Hugh Jackman-sized Wolverine and an average/small reader (size difference, yaaaaay)
A/N: Big thanks to @snixkers for being my designated Wolvie Beta Reader, as well as a handful of buddies in my writers discord for helping me turn the head words into page words (you know who you are).
Word Count: 4419
———————————————————————
This is going to be a disaster, Y/N thought as she stared hopelessly at the event notification on her phone: Superhero Gala tonight!!!
It was her least favorite day of the year, even though on paper it was a good thing. All of the Avengers and all the X-Men getting together and hosting a gala fundraiser to raise money for a different cause every year, as well as “celebrate the spirit of collaboration among heroes” or whatever preachy bullshit Charles is always on about.
She just knew that she’d inevitably be stuck getting hit on by drunken aristocratic strangers in a dress she didn’t want to be wearing, just like every other year. She’d much rather be honing her abilities or reading a book, but attendance was mandatory for every adult living at the mansion, much to her chagrin.
Y/N paced the length of her bedroom, worrying about her certain doom, when she got an idea. It wasn’t a very good idea, but it was better than no idea at all. She stuffed her phone in her back pocket, then ventured down to the kitchen where she was hoping she’d find who she was looking for, and she was right.
Logan was sitting at the island munching on a piece of toast and nursing a flask of what she assumed was whiskey, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She said, “Howlett, I need to talk to you in private.”
Logan looked up from his breakfast and said, “Good morning to you too, L/N,” mostly unbothered by her request.
Y/N rolled her eyes and said, “NOW, please.”
He raised a hand in surrender and said, “Alright, Bossy Pants,” before following her into the other room away from the prying ears of Jean, Scott, and Ororo.
Once they were out of earshot, Y/N said, “Okay, I’m gonna ask you to do something kinda weird, but I promise if you do it, I’ll never ask you for anything else ever again.”
Logan raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “Okay?”
She took a deep breath. “I need you to be my scary dog privilege tonight at the gala.”
The request hung in the air between them as Logan tried to process what the hell she just said to him. “You need me to be your what?”
Y/N sighed exasperatedly, then elaborated. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend so the sleazy rich assholes leave me alone!” before steepling her hands and giving him her best puppy dog pout.
Logan wasn’t swayed, and he crossed his arms. “Why me? Couldn’t you ask McCoy?” Y/N glared at him, annoyed that he was being so difficult.
“Yes, I could ask Hank, but Hank is a teddy bear! You’re tall, you’re intimidating, it’s somewhat believable that we’d be together, and you have claws. And if you don’t do this, I promise you that if even one slimeball approaches me, I will use the ‘what not to do’ section of the Geneva Convention as a to-do list! So will you be my fake boyfriend or not?!”
Both of Logan’s eyebrows went up at this, and he said, “As entertainin’ as that would be, Chuck would probably ground you for committin’ war crimes against a civilian,” before starting to walk back to the kitchen.
In a panic, Y/N blabbed, “I’ll smuggle in cigars and booze for you for a month!” which stopped him in his tracks. Gotcha, Wolvie.
He turned back around, let out a groan in the back of his throat at the hopeful smile on Y/N’s face, then said, “Fine. But just this once,” before sticking out a hand to shake. She grinned, then shook his hand, trying her best to not think about how his hand completely engulfed hers or how warm and rough it was.
That evening, Logan was waiting at the bottom of the stairs alongside Scott for Jean and Y/N to come down, both men in sharp black tuxedos.
Scott said, “So, you’re L/N’s date tonight, huh?” with a shit-eating grin on his face, so Logan rolled his eyes, tugging at the collar of her dress clothes slightly. “She made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Literally. If I refused, she was gonna kill the first stranger who told her she was pretty.”
Scott chuckled. “Yeah, sounds about right.” Then he fell silent, so Logan followed his gaze and tried to ignore the weird tug in the pit of his stomach when he saw Y/N trailing behind Jean. She looked like a completely different person than the woman he bantered with every day.
Her hair fell in a halo of perfect waves around her shoulders, her makeup was done to perfection, diamond studs decorated her ears, and her dress… oh, that dress.
While its rhinestone-encrusted fabric covered every inch of her body except her collarbone and her hands, it hugged every curve like it was made especially for her (and it probably was). The slight padding of the shoulders and the emerald green hue made her look almost ethereal, and the matching shoes he could see peeking out from under the hem with every step she took added to the effect, though he wasn’t sure why.
Y/N stopped in front of him. “Well, you clean up nice, Howlett,” and adjusted his tie (which just so happened to match her dress). That snapped him out of his reverie before he cleared his throat. “You too, L/N. Shall we?”
He offered her his arm, and she took it. “Let’s get this over with,” before letting him lead her into the ballroom.
After he had initially agreed to this admittedly crazy scheme, Logan and Y/N had gone over different forms of PDA that they were each comfortable with. Y/N had told Logan that he could do whatever he needed to do to sell it, whereas he was more hesitant to give her carte blanche, only allowing lingering arm and shoulder touches or a kiss on the cheek if the situation desperately called for it.
Logan instantly clocked the bar the second they stepped foot inside, and before he could say anything, Y/N quipped, “I need to be drunk half an hour ago, let’s move,” and started pulling him towards the bar, causing him to let out a snort as he allowed her to drag him along.
He ordered a whiskey on the rocks while she stuck with a vodka soda, and after they were given their drinks, Logan said, “Say what you want about Stark. At least he has the decency to spring for an open bar, and it’s the good shit,” while swirling the liquid in his glass.
Y/N snickered and said, “I’ll drink to that.” She held her glass up for cheers, and Logan clinked his glass against hers, then downed about half of his whiskey in one swig.
Y/N had to blink to rid the image of his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed from her mind, then she downed her drink as well. “Well, we better go find Charles and the others.”
He nodded in agreement, then put a hand at the small of her back as they ventured into the center of the room. Y/N spotted Charles amongst a circle of Avengers and X-Men including Captain America, Black Widow, and Iron Man as well as Hank, Scott, Jean, and Rogue. The two of them approached the circle, and Y/N said, “Partying hard or hardly partying?”
Charles looked away from the tall, blond man Y/N recognized from last year as Steve Rogers at the sound of her voice, then said, “Ah! There you two are! Logan, Y/N, I’m sure you remember Captain Rogers, Miss Romanoff, and Mr. Stark from last year’s benefit,” and gestured between them.
Y/N smiled and said, “Of course. It’s great to see you again,” while shaking each of their hands, earning a “Likewise” from Steve, a nod from Natasha, and a smirk from Tony. He was surely about to say something lewd, but Logan stuck his hand out to shake just in time. “Mighty nice of ya to foot the bill on some decent booze, Stark,” his arm snaking protectively around Y/N’s waist.
If Charles and the other X-Men didn’t clock it, which was highly unlikely, they thankfully said nothing about it, but Tony recovered quickly enough that it wasn’t necessary anyway. He shook Logan’s hand and said, “Of course. Only the best for the best, amiright?” before shooting a wink in Y/N’s direction.
Logan bristled slightly, so Y/N took that as an opportunity to place a hand on his chest and say, “Lo, I believe I was promised a dance?” raising her eyebrows pointedly at him.
He said, “Right, yeah, absolutely, Doll Face. Nice seeing you again, but duty calls. Boyfriend duty, that is,” nodded at Steve and Natasha, then shot an almost gloating wink in Tony’s direction before giving Y/N his arm and whisking her off to the dance floor.
As they left, Y/N swore she heard Scott whisper incredulously, “‘Boyfriend’’?!” and Jean smack him in the chest, which made her stomach flip slightly at the thought that only Scott questioned the arrangement.
As they reached the dance floor, Y/N took note of the string quartet a few paces from the floor. “Open bar, and live entertainment? That Stark sure knows how to throw a party.”
Logan rolled his eyes and huffed, “If he took hints as good as he threw parties, then we’d be in business,” before he remembered that he wasn’t actually Y/N’s boyfriend, and there was no reason for him to be that pissed. So why was he?
Y/N said, “He’s the outlier in this situation. I’ve clocked at least eight different guys that have made to come talk to me, but immediately backtracked once they noticed you standing right next to me. I should bribe you to be my scary dog privilege more often!”
He just scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, don’t hold your breath,” but there was still a hint of a smile on his face as they joined the other couples waiting for the next song.
The musicians took up their instruments and began playing again, so Logan extended a hand to Y/N and said, “May I have this dance?” while raising a teasing eyebrow at her. She smiled, then took it and replied, “You may.”
He grinned before spinning her into his arms, a peal of laughter escaping her as she collided with his solid chest in a very ungraceful manner.
She giggled, “Logan!” He shrugged and said, “Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, don’t I?” neither of them acknowledging that she used his first name.
They kept dancing, Logan periodically making comments about the people around them just to hear her melodic laughter, and to any outsider, they looked just like any other couple; young (or seemingly young in Logan’s case) and in love, even though that wasn’t the case.
When the song ended, Y/N let out a breathless sigh and said, “I’m gonna go get a drink. Do you want anything?”
Logan held up a hand and said, “Nah, I’ve got all night to drink Stark outta house and home. Thank you, though.” Y/N nodded with a smile, then went to head for the bar, but Logan stopped her with a hand on her waist.
He said, “Hang on a sec, Doll,” then held her chin in place with his first two fingers and brushed some rogue strands of hair away from her face before murmuring, “There we go. Perfect.”
Y/N fought to keep a blush from staining her cheeks as she thanked him, then she scampered away to the bar after telling him she’d be back soon, hoping to god he didn’t notice the spike in her heart rate.
She reached the bar and ordered another vodka soda, somewhat breathlessly. As she waited, she ended up overanalyzing all that had transpired thus far, and she couldn’t make sense of any of it. Logan’s protectiveness around someone he knew wasn’t a threat? Going out of his way to play the Boyfriend Card in front of their teammates and collaborators? The pet names? The way he’s been looking at her since they stepped foot inside the ballroom?
As she was going through all of this, an unfamiliar man sidled up next to her at the bar and tried to strike up a conversation, much to Y/N’s dismay.
“Hey there, I’m Jeffrey. Did they give you a name to go with that pretty face?” and she just barely contained a gag/cringe combo before telling him her name. He smiled a bit too wide to be genuine, then said, “Can I order you a drink?” so she said, “I already ordered. And I promised my boyfriend I’d come find him as soon as I got it, so…,” and craned her neck to search for the bartender.
Jeffrey scoffed.“Some boyfriend he is, letting a lady like you wander off by herself.” That made Y/N inhale sharply. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and he’s well aware of that,” she said curtly, silently daring him to say one more stupid thing so she could knock him into next month.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, his voice faltered and his eyes trailed up to someone much taller than her. She didn’t have the chance to turn around before the familiar scent of pine, whiskey, and tobacco filled her nostrils and a pair of lips pressed a kiss to her jaw.
Logan husked out right next to her ear, “Hey, Baby. Thought you were gonna come find me once you got your drink. Dinner’s about to start.” One of his hands slid around to rest against her stomach protectively, so she placed a hand on his arm and said, “I was! It just got busy, I guess. We had the home-front advantage earlier,” trying to pretend like she wasn’t silently losing her mind over what he’d just done and praying to whatever deity existed that he couldn’t smell her body’s reaction to what had just occurred.
She turned her head to look at him, and he smiled at her before nodding his head in Jeffrey’s direction and saying, “Who’s this punk?”
She shot a quick glare at the man in question, then looked back up at Logan. “Just someone who is very lucky you showed up when you did,” she said with a smile before going up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
The bartender arrived with her drink not a moment too soon, and as she grabbed it, said, “It was nice to meet you, Jeffrey,” and then let Logan lead her back to their designated table, choosing to ignore how Logan looked over his shoulder and snarled at the man as they walked away.
Dinner thankfully went off without any hitches, but since Y/N and Logan were seated next to each other, the constant whiffs she got of Logan's unique (and intoxicating) musk whenever he so much as shifted in his chair were driving her insane. Not to mention the absentminded circles he was drawing on her leg under the table, which he didn’t need to do since nobody could see.
Just as she thought she’d be able to beeline it to somebody’s office or the bathroom or anywhere else to hide, Jean pulled her aside while asking to talk to her in private, making her think a string of expletives that she was well aware Jean could still hear as she allowed herself to be dragged to an unoccupied corner of the ballroom.
Once they were away from listening ears, Jean said, “Okay, what is going on between you and Logan? Yesterday you were threatening to shove him off the roof, and now you two are all over each other! And don’t even try to lie,” while raising a questioning eyebrow. Y/N let out a petulant whine, but Jean shot her a look that Y/N liked to call “The Mom Glare”, so she let out a loud sigh and explained everything, her voice growing more hysterical with every word:
“Okay, I bribed Logan into being my fake boyfriend for the night to keep the creeps away, and I told him to do whatever he needed to do so people would believe it, but I realized that I like what he’s been doing way too much for us to be just friends, and I’m losing my goddamn mind, Jean!”
Jean put her hands on Y/N’s arms to ground her and said, “Whoa, calm down. What exactly has he done that’s got you so worked up?” Y/N let out a mildly panicked laugh, then said, “For starters, if he was within arms reach of me, his hands were on me. He was being super protective of me in front of Tony even though we all know he could snap the Tin Man like a toothpick if he wanted to. He kissed me on the jaw earlier when some sleazeball was hitting on me by the bar, then snarled at him as we walked away. And to top it off, he was drawing circles on my leg under the table at dinner, and I’m not convinced he realized he was doing it, because I did nothing to stop him. Ugh, this is so complicated!”
Jean made a confused face at this. “Why does it have to be complicated? You two clearly have feelings for each other that are more than platonic. And if I may, he agreed to this crazy scheme of yours, didn’t he? At least some part of him feels the same way about you.” This earned another whine from Y/N.
She started rambling, “I don’t want this to change our relationship! I mean, yeah, I’ve had a crush on him for years because I’m not blind, but we’re just friends! And we’ve always been just friends! We bust each other's chops, we affectionately threaten each other with violence, we smuggle contraband into the school for each other even though Charles absolutely knows we’re doing it, so there’s literally no reason for us to be so secretive about it. I can’t just throw that away because I’m in love with him!”
Unfortunately, she didn’t notice Jean’s face pale or her attempts to get her to stop talking until a familiar deep voice said, “You’re in love with me?”
Y/N’s blood ran cold, and she turned around to see Logan standing there with a confused expression on his face. Her stomach clenched, and she said meekly, “How much of that did you hear?” hoping he wouldn’t say what she thought he was going to say, and bracing herself for the worst.
“Everything after ‘complicated’.” Fuck.
A whimper escaped her throat, and she heard Jean scamper off behind her. She sighed and whispered, “Shit,” squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment. Logan made to move towards her, but Y/N recoiled from him and said, “Don’t!”, before side-stepping him and sprinting out of the ballroom as fast as her wildly impractical attire would allow her, ignoring the concerned calls of her name from her fellow X-Men.
Y/N knew Logan would catch up to her eventually, but for the moment, the only thing on her mind was getting as far away from the ballroom and him as possible. She ended up in the hedge maze, and she fell onto a stone bench to catch her breath, but all too soon she heard Logan yelling her name.
She ignored him, then proceeded to bury her face in her hands and cry due to the sheer irony of the situation: She was hiding in a stupid hedge maze from the only man she’s ever wanted because she can’t bring herself to face him.
Logan rounded the corner a few moments later, and the second he saw her on the bench and heard her sniffling, he knelt before her. “Hey, don’t cry, Sweetheart.” He gently pulled her hands away from her face.
Y/N just shook her head and whispered, “I can’t do this, Logan,” through her tears, making Logan’s eyebrows furrow before he said, “Can’t do what, Darlin’?” and went to wipe her cheek with his thumb, but it was too much for her to take.
Y/N flinched away from his touch and sobbed out, “This! The pet names, the tender touches, you looking at me like that! I can’t go back to just friends after everything that’s happened tonight, I can’t! If you’re gonna let me down, please just let me down gently because it’s the only way I can bear losing you!”
A fresh flood of tears blurred her vision enough that she couldn’t see his face, and she tried to get up to run back to her room or anywhere else where she could lock the door and try to pretend like this whole night was just a bad dream, but Logan’s hands shot out to hold her in place. “Y/N, who said anything about letting anybody down or losing me?”
Y/N startled at the sound of her first name coming out of his mouth, and she blinked back her tears to find him looking at her so tenderly she thought she was going to melt into the grass below her. Logan cupped her face in his hand and said,
“From the day that I met you, I knew I needed to find a way to keep you in my life. For a while, that was by being your friend. But only being your friend isn’t enough for me anymore. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my entire life.” His thumb stroked her cheek comfortingly as he spoke.
Y/N giggled through her tears, and she said, “That’s a long ass time, Wolvie.”
He chuckled back and said, “My point exactly, Doll,” squeezing her knee for emphasis. Y/N looked down at the ground and said, “You’re gonna get grass stains on your pants.”
Logan raised an eyebrow challengingly before bracing his hands on the bench on either side of her and purposely grinding his knees into the grass, pulling a shocked laugh from her. “Logan Howlett!”
He chuckled at her admonishing tone, then leaned in to press his forehead against hers and murmured, “It stopped being pretend for me the moment you came downstairs in this dress,” as he ran a hand down her leg to fiddle with the hem of her dress.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, and she whispered, “You had me at ‘hey, baby’.” For a moment they just stared at each other, but Logan’s resolve broke when she breathed his name, and he surged forward to capture her lips in a desperate kiss that said everything words couldn’t then.
His tongue ran along the seam of her lips, and she let him in without hesitation as she gripped the back of his jacket and he held her against his chest like she’d disappear if he let go. Y/N could have stayed in his embrace forever, and Logan could have kept her like that indefinitely.
Unfortunately, humans need oxygen to live, so Y/n pulled her lips away to at least attempt to catch her breath, but Logan had other plans.
He trailed his kisses down her jaw to her neck, and his hand started roaming around her back to find the zipper of her dress, but Y/N put a hand to his chest to stop him and said, “You better take me on a real date before you try something like that, Howlett.” He buried his face in her shoulder and groaned disappointedly.
Y/N giggled, then said, “As far as I know, the gala doesn’t end for another few hours,” to which Logan leaned back so he was sitting on his heels.
“I think I like where your head's at, Princess,” a smirk crossing his face before he jumped to his feet, scooped her up bridal style, and started jogging back to the mansion, his heart swelling at her squeal of laughter and how her arms tightened around his neck.
Logan set Y/N down outside of the ballroom, then held out his hand and said, “Ready, Darlin’?”
She smiled and said, “Always, Big Guy,” before lacing her fingers with his and walking into the room, where seemingly every Avenger and X-Man was standing and waiting with bated breath.
Y/N bit her lip and looked up at Logan, who let out a resigned sigh and said, “Ahhhh, fuck it,” before sweeping her into a dip and kissing the life out of her, an eruption of shocked laughter, wolf whistles, and applause coming from the gathering of heroes, making Y/N smile against his lips and cup his face in her hand.
When he pulled his lips away, Logan murmured, “I’m in love with you, too. Didn’t get to say it earlier,” making Y/N snark, “Oh, really? I never would have guessed,” before giggling and reconnecting their lips, Logan chuckling as he held her even closer.
Scott hollered teasingly, “Hey, lovebirds! Mind wrapping it up?! We’ve got places to be!”
Both Logan and Y/N simultaneously flipped him off while they stayed engrossed in each other.
“Yeah, fair enough,” Scott said, making Jean laugh at him. Logan eventually stood Y/N up again, then said, “Hey, Stark, is there any good shit left? I don’t know about you, but I finally got the girl, and I feel like celebrating.” As he spoke, he shot a wink at Y/N solely to make her blush.
Tony said, “Absolutely!” A waiter came over with two glasses of champagne, and even Y/N could tell that it was high-quality stuff just from the smell.
Logan held his glass towards her, then said, “To you and me, Darlin’.” Y/N clinked her glass against his in cheers and said, “You and me, Bubba,” everyone cheering as Logan kissed her temple.
As an avid romance novel reader, she probably should have seen this coming, but she couldn’t really bring herself to care about anything else besides the comforting feeling of Logan’s arm around her waist and the knowledge that he was all hers for as long as she wanted him, which was forever.
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