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#I had been wanting to draw a bittersweet moment between the two
sucharandomwolf · 1 year
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sttoru · 5 months
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‘the markings engraved on the wood hold unspoken memories; ones that will last forever.’
☀︎|tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. you’re married. based on a request i got a while back; reader and toji marking megumi’s changes in height throughout the years to record how much he’s grown.
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“oh, it’s already time to do that stuff ‘gain, huh?” toji grunts as he was lazily slumping back on the couch — rough hand cradling the head of his three year old son.
megumi was surprisingly quiet whilst laying on top of toji’s chest. the reason why probably being the dancing fruits and vegetables on the television. those videos was pure entertainment for the little guy.
toji’s eyes follow your movements as you grabbed a sharpie and walked towards the door of the living room. you had purposefully grabbed the special sharpie that existed only to fulfil one, sole task;
which was to mark megumi’s current height on the doorframe.
“yep.” you nod enthusiastically. you were excited to see how much megumi had grown since the last time you measured his height. it was a fun thing to do, yet also bittersweet.
toji looks down at the little boy on his chest. he grins like a proud dad once he notices how content megumi was in his embrace, “c’mon, bud. y’r momma wants to see how much bigger and stronger you grew.”
megumi’s attention was instantly drawn to you at the words uttered to him. in a sudden burst of energy, he jumps off toji’s torso — running your way. he was bouncing up and down like his favorite candy was about to get handed out.
“alright, alright.” you giggle softly and tenderly rub megumi’s cheeks with your fingers. toji gets up from the couch and joins the two of you, crossing his arms over his chest whilst leaning against the wall.
your husband’s focus was elsewhere; his gaze following the previous records that were left on the wooden jamb. there were dates assigned to each line — each holding a precious memory of their own. toji lets out a deep breath, closes his eyes and allows all the happy memories to flood back into his mind for a good moment.
he can’t stop the fond smile from forming on his face as he squats down to megumi’s level, “i bet ya grew a lot considering how much veggies y’ve been eatin lately.”
“yeah! big boy!” megumi grins back at toji — his playful grin resembling your husband’s. his tiny hands pat his belly, causing both his parents to laugh at his actions.
you pull off the cap from the sharpie and properly align your toddler against the doorframe. toji helped megumi stay still for the sake of measuring his height as accurately as possible.
you try to get the perfect dot right atop of megumi’s head. once you get it, you draw a straight line from that point to the end of the jamb. it’s then that you notice the difference between the previous blue line and the newest one you had just placed on the wood.
you stay silent for a few seconds after taking the tip of the sharpie away from the door jamb. there it was; that bittersweet look in your eyes. one that toji knew very well. he understands your emotions and doesn’t ever invalidate them since he feels the same deep within.
that beautiful and proud yet also surprisingly sad feeling. the one you get when you realise just how fast time flies.
“mama! mama! look!” megumi excitedly points out the obvious difference between the two lines, clapping his hands out of pure delight, “i’m shtronger! bwigger!”
the pure face of joy that megumi made, was enough to put a smile on your face as well. you instantly scoop your son up in your arms and hug him tightly to your body. megumi’s nose scrunches up, left cheek squished against your chest with a faint giggle escaping his lips.
toji’s expression was one of content in the meantime. a content man whom had finally found the reason as to why life was worth living.
his hand reaches out, index finger curling around the collar of megumi’s shirt from behind. he gives it a small yank as if trying to catch the boy’s attention. once toji gains exactly that — he opens his arms and motions for a hug;
“what ‘bout papa, kid?” your husband raises an eyebrow. he tries hard to fake a pout, though only ends up looking quite silly, “can papa get a big ol’ h—”
before toji could finish his sentence, megumi unexpectedly jumps into his arms. this causes toji to actually stumble back — falling out of his squat and into a sitting position on the floor. that was quite the surprise, but, a pleasant one it sure was.
the dark-haired man rolls his eyes before nuzzling his nose into megumi’s hair. his strong arms engulf the toddler completely—not wanting to let go any time soon.
“y’re gonna need to eat a lot more so you can grow up ‘n be as tall as me.” toji teases after a few seconds of comfortable silence. he squeezes megumi’s cheek and looks down at him fondly, “i’m sure you’ll even outgrow me ‘n your momma one day.”
the mention of your son one day growing up and becoming taller than you makes that solemn look return to your eyes. your bottom lip sticks out and your eyebrows furrow.
toji notices and regrets saying what he said whilst already knowing you were in a sentimental mood. plus, you always got even more emotional when talking about how quick megumi was growing up. it was like he was a newborn just yesterday.
“wah! mama. . .”
even megumi notices the change in your expression and he huffs. his eyes dart back towards his dad’s and his tiny fists (softly) land on toji’s chest twice. like he was giving out a punishment for ‘upsetting’ you.
“papa make mama sad! papa bad!” megumi sticks his tongue out at toji and runs back towards you — tiny arms circling your neck as he clings onto you in hopes to make you feel better.
your son’s cute antics were enough to lighten up the mood, causing both toji and you to laugh again. even if a tear had already rolled down your cheek from before.
you were about to wipe it away yourself, though was stopped by two hands: a large one and a small one. one belonging to toji and the other to megumi.
“aht aht,” toji narrows his eyes at his kid, “i’m the one who made y’r momma cry, so i gotta be the one comfortin’ her to make it right.”
“no! papa made mama sad. i make mama happy ‘gain. not papa.” megumi does the same back, though adds fuel to the fire by sticking his tongue out like earlier.
and. . . there they go again.
your husband and son go back and forth about who gets to wipe your tear away and comfort you. you knew toji was competitive - even with his own son - but it was funny to see how he still argued with a three year old like it was some serious business.
you couldn’t even be sad any longer as the squabbling makes you giggle — though also leaves you with a giddy feeling in your chest.
time seems to slow down when you’re engrossed in rememberable moments like these.
and all you could do was wish that they would last forever.
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itsphoenix0724 · 10 months
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A Shadowed Throne (Azriel x Reader)
Summary: The warmer seasons have been particularly hard this year as Azriel awaits his Queen's return. When winter finally dawns he finds Death will only kneel to life in one circumstance.
Warnings: SMUT, throne-sex, unprotected sex
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: Hello everyone! This was heavily inspired by the myth of Hades and Persephone if that wasn't obvious. Also incredibly inspired by @azsazz's beautiful work called "Between the Shadow and the Soul" so please give that a read. I asked on anon if I could write something similar and I am thrilled they agreed. I hope everyone enjoys it, and as always constructive criticism is welcome!
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The halls in the Obsidian Castle are always eerily quiet. You can only hear the whispers of the souls that bustle around the castle. The God of Death finds that he enjoys quiet peace. The cold marble of his throne presses against his back and calms his racing pulse. He feels your presence enter his realm. Shadows bring him a rush of warmth and the smell of sweet spring flowers. 
The feeling awakens something in his blood he thought was long dead. This spring's goodbye was awful, the summer bittersweet, and the fall melancholy.
Winter was always his favorite season.
Selfishly he loved the quiet bliss of snowfall and the influx of souls that enter his realm. Most of your smaller creations don’t survive the harshness the winter brings, but he wipes your tears and consoles you that all of your creations will be safe with him. He cherishes each one, kindly guiding them back when they’re ready to move on. 
Two souls open the large doors to the throne room. When he sees you the cold heart in his chest starts to beat again. He surveys you from where you stand at the door. 
You had chosen a dress in a deep purple for your return home. Two thigh-high slits let him see the vines that wrap all the way down to your bare feet. Your usual flowers had been swapped out for an homage to the underworld. A crown of lilies, nightshade, and oleander were woven through your hair. Two sets of foxglove dangled from your ears and purple emperor butterflies fluttered around your neckline. 
You were a vision, a true queen of his realm. 
Your eyes locked for one tortuous moment. Neither of you moved, exhaling a small breath before you take off to him in a run. With a wave of his hand, the souls cleared out of the throne room. They would celebrate the return of their queen later with a week-long festival in your honor. 
He fully intended to celebrate the return of his queen right fucking now. 
He pulled you onto his lap as soon as you reached the throne, the butterflies scattering into the air and landing around the both of you. One brave butterfly rests on his hair before your fingers chase it away.
He wraps one strong hand through your hair before finally drawing his mouth to yours. After months and months of cold, he finally feels warm again. He draws his tongue along the seam of your lips, and they open for him as he greedily slides his tongue into your mouth.  He moans as the taste of honey and pomegranates flood his senses and you dig your hands into his hair and pull so harshly he fears you may have drawn blood. 
“Azriel,” you whine his name into his mouth and he wants to inject the sound into his veins. Mortals fear his name, only referring to him as Death or King, and he finds he doesn’t mind their fear. 
He only wants his name to fall out of your lips anyway. 
He moves his lips to mark the soft skin of your neck. He wants to leave his mark everywhere on your body. He wants to remind you of why he deserves your return to him every winter. Azriel’s instincts are kicking into high gear. He wants to claim you and make you beg and cry underneath him and never let you go again. However, he puts that on pause. 
For now. 
He stands up, hauling your whole body against him before pinning you to the back of the throne and falling to his knees. 
All life has to yield to Death eventually, it’s the way of the world, but Death kneels for Life in some instances. He parts your dress, fingers toying with the vines that wrap up and down your legs before diving in. His eyes almost glaze over as he licks one strong stripe through your center, tongue gently flicking over the apex of your thighs in a way that makes you convulse and squirm beneath his tongue. There will be time for teasing later.
Azriel intends to fully make you beg for him when he can properly take you apart in the bed that has been dreadfully cold in your absence. He eats you like he was starving for it, in a way he was, as he laps at the juices running down your thighs and looks up at you through half-lidded lashes. Your cheeks are flushed, your chest heaving up and down as your fingers wind through his inky black hair. You urge him back down and he lets out a dark chuckle that wraps your bones in dark silks.
Azriel laps his tongue at your center before thrusting inside and you let out a moan of approval. His tongue fucks you in and out as one hand comes up to rub tight circles against your clit. You shatter against him with another scream of his name. Azriel’s eyes find yours again and he takes a moment to admire his queen. Your skin is flushed with a thin layer of sweat, even in the cool throne room, and you're lounging on the throne like a true ruler of the underworld. The sight makes his painfully hard cock twitch in his pants. He shucks your legs off of his shoulder before rising to his full height before you. You stare up at him through your eyelashes, playing innocent, even as you undo the laces that hold his pants shut. Your hand runs over him and his head falls back with a groan. 
He needs to get inside you now or this is going to be over far before it begins. 
He takes your hands away and pins them above your head as he slowly sinks in inch by tortuous inch. He tries to patiently wait for you to adjust but you dig your nails into his wrists and growl in his ear for him to “move already,” he begins to fuck you at a relentless pace. His hands drag down the top of your dress and he takes the weight of both breasts in his palms. He runs a thumb over your nipples before pinching and pulling in time to his thrusts.
“You’re such a good fucking girl,” He growls into your ear and he feels your run a hand up the back edge of his wing. He lets out a long moan, hips stuttering for a second, and he bites your neck in warning before pounding into you at a relentless pace.
You’re trying to arch your hips to meet his thrusts but you’re too fucking cock drunk to keep up. 
He reaches one hand down to play with your clit again and he brings you to another mind-numbing orgasm that makes your walls convulse around his cock. That and the way your nails are digging into his back sends him growling through his release. He pulls out slowly before tucking himself back in his pants and rearranging you so that you’re sat on his lap. Az rubs small circles on your lower back and you play with the ends of his hair.
“Sweetheart,” you mutter and he looks down at you, a small smile playing on your lips. “Where’s my throne?” He tries to smother the guilty look before feigning his innocence. With a wave of his hand your throne appears. A rose quartz twin to his obsidian one. 
“It depresses the souls when you’re not here Flower. I had to hide it.” It’s not a complete lie. He notices the sad glances the souls steal at your throne when you’re not here, it saddens him a bit as well, like half of his heart is missing. An incomplete set. 
“Uh-huh. Sure.” He sends another guilty smile your way. The whole truth is that he hid it so he could enjoy you on his throne, and you’ve always been able to clock his bullshit from a mile away. 
“Anyway,” He continues, hopeful to change the subject as he rises to his feet with you in his arms. You let out a small squeal and grip him tighter. “You have a party to prepare for my love. We’re thrilled to have you back.” He’s marching you to your bedroom and he kicks the throne room door closed behind him. 
“Azriel if you drop me I swear I will make flowers grow out of your ears.” It’s an empty threat. He can feel your body shake with unreleased laughter and hear the smile in your voice. Az leans down to playfully nip at your ear before he jostles you in his arms just to make the laugh you were holding bubble up in your chest. 
“I would never drop you Flower.” 
And for the first time in months, on the evening of the first day of winter, the halls of the Obsidian Castle are filled with the sounds of laughter.
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black-amortentia · 4 months
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A Shower of Sparks | Festivities - Snolidays 2023
Severus Snape x Professor!Reader | Warnings: Secret relationship, fluff and maybe a little angst because FEELINGS, I finished and edited this through a migraine, so please forgive any failings!
This is my story for week four "Festivities" of Snolidays 2023! This is the final part, and we get to see a little more from Sev's POV this time. Though all parts can be read independently, there is a bit of a story linking them all together.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
--
Although half the students had gone home for the holiday, the Christmas feast was elaborate and mouthwatering as ever. Roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, pumpkin juice, and a variety of other delights. The Great Hall filled with a hum of conversation instead of the usual cacophony, which was bittersweet to Severus. While less noise was less likely to give him a headache, it made his conversation with you more likely to be overheard. He would have to be careful of his words.
Being careful around you had grown increasingly difficult.
Not that you had noticed. Severus was always a master of his emotions, even when you were alone. You thought nothing of his silence, pulling him into your conversation with Professor Sprout.
“What about you, Severus? Do you miss spending time with your family during the holidays?”
“No.”
A quick, terse answer, as usual. It was a part of your subterfuge, making a show of how Severus was just as impatient with you in front of everyone. Though this interaction served as a reminder that you knew nothing about Severus’s family. If you thought about it, how much did you really know about him at all?
Under the table, Severus’s hand found your thigh. The perpetual chill of his hand seeped through your clothes, his hand just resting there. A few soft movements of his palm stroking up and down. At first, you thought he was simply in a hurry to be alone. When you saw him take a bite out of the corner of your eye, you realized he hadn’t finished his meal. You reached for the jug of pumpkin juice, brushing his shoulder with your own.
When the feast wound down, Dumbledore approached his owl lectern. “As another successful Christmas draws to a close, I invite you all to assemble outside on the lawn for a final Christmas surprise.”
The hall erupted into murmurs of surprise and curiosity. You shared glances with your fellow teachers, but it seemed this surprise was for faculty as much as for the students. None of you had the foggiest.
As people filed out of the Great Hall in, you fell into step beside Severus. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”
Severus slowed his steps, allowing others to fetch hats and scarves and scurry outside. Neither of you spoke until you were alone.
“Yes?” Severus drawled. His hand went to your waist, eager to touch you while he had the opportunity.
“This seems like the perfect time to give you this.” You withdrew a small package wrapped in brightly colored paper. Severus raised an eyebrow as you presented it to him.
He faltered, looking down at the object between you as if it would bite him if he moved too quickly.
Gifts? Severus knew it was Christmas, but he had not expected there to be an exchange of gifts. Severus wasn’t even sure when he’d last received a gift.
“Don’t just stare at it. Open it before someone catches us.”
Severus pulled apart the wrapping paper, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor when he saw what was within. A pair of soft, black leather gloves with an elaborate design of a snake embossed on the back. Severus was speechless. His lack of response brought a smile to your face. You had hoped to surprise and impress, and it seemed to succeed.
“I have nothing for you,” he said quietly.
You waved your hand. “I don’t care about that. I just saw these and thought you might like them.”
Severus stared down at the gloves, coming to his senses and pulling them on. He’d been wrestling with his feelings for you, struggling to understand what he wanted, what he could have with you. Wondering what you truly felt for him. Surely you didn’t care deeply for him. He wouldn’t deserve it, even if you did.
Your relationship had grown deeper over the holidays, but this gift made it clear. You really did care. Enough to keep him in your idle thoughts, enough to bring him gifts and cheer, even when he thought he did not want such things.
There was something Severus knew you wanted, something he hadn’t been able to give you. Out of fear, of a desire to protect you, he held back. Severus wasn’t sure if he could do that any longer. Maybe the best thing he could give you in return was a piece of himself.
“My mother.”
“Hm?” You turned to him, questioning, as you retrieved your scarf.
“You asked earlier if I miss my family during the holidays. I miss my mother.”
You paused your movements, your hand darting out to take his. This was the most Severus had ever opened up to you, and you would not take that for granted. “I would love for you to tell me about her.”
Footsteps down the hall caused the two of you to break apart. You flicked your wand, vanishing the wrapping paper on the floor, and busied yourself with your scarf.
A few Gryffindor boys walked past, heading for the lawn. “I think Snape’s trying to catch someone under the mistletoe. Only way he’s getting a kiss,” one of them joked, not as quietly as he seemed to think.
“Hold your tongue, McLaggen, or next time it will be house points,” Severus snapped, his voice dripping with malice. He shot you a disparaging look, driving his point home.
Frowning, you ducked your head, stung by his cruel tone. Severus preferred to keep things private, but sometimes it felt like he didn’t want the relationship at all. Staying secretive, holding you at arm’s length, sometimes pushing you away. Even those times when you were alone together, when he showed you the side of himself he kept hidden from everyone else, Severus felt closed off. You always respected him and knew he had his reasons, but sometimes it left you wondering.
What exactly were you to Severus Snape?
With the moment you were sharing thoroughly ruined, you finished bundling up. “Don’t want to miss the surprise,” you commented, following the students out to the lawn.
But your eyes said it all. All the hurt and uncertainty contained within your gaze. Severus picked up on your emotions, but his Legillimency confirmed it. Flexing his fingers in his new gloves, he followed silently after you.
Severus had once ruined the most important relationship in his life by saying the wrong thing. Was he on the path to making the same foolish mistake?
The lawn was dimly lit, students and teachers milling about. Severus stood just behind your shoulder, black cloak concealing his movements. He took your hand, lacing your fingers together. His breath lifted your hair when he whispered your name. “Perhaps we can speak later?”
You squeezed his hand gently in return. Severus didn’t hear your whispered response. He had come to a realization. If this continued, he could put you at risk. Severus had seen the Dark Mark on his arm growing stronger. He couldn’t let you be a weakness, or let you fall into danger because of him. No matter how much you meant to him, it would be selfish to keep you without telling you the truth. A truth he could never tell you.
But he couldn’t keep you at arm’s length forever. Severus knew he would lose you. Sometimes he already felt you slipping away. You deserved more than a man who only gave you part of himself. Would it be better to end things now, before he made it more painful for both of you?
Severus had to decide.
A sharp whistle pierced the air. The crowd fell silent, looking to the sky.
A crimson firework shot up over the turrets with a trail of golden sparks, exploding in a massive sphere of red and gold that lit up the night. The sparks became a red and gold Gryffindor lion in a ferocious roar. When it faded, a similar display followed for each of the houses and finally the Hogwarts school crest hovered above the sky.
While everyone watched the skies, Severus watched you. Eyes sparkling in the light of the fireworks, lips curved into that smile he delighted in. The way you held his hand in the darkness, sharing the moment together, even in secret.
Severus decided.
With a swift tug on your arm, Severus turned you around and pulled you against him. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, hand snaking around to the small of your back. Forgetting all about the fireworks, you leaned into Severus. You didn’t care if someone saw you, just as Severus didn’t seem to.
There was something different about this kiss, though you couldn’t put your finger on it. It somehow held more than your past intimate moments. More emotion, intent, care, more of everything Severus. When you finally broke away, he held your gaze, eyes filled with a resolve you’d never seen before.
“I love you.”
Severus’s voice was barely a whisper, and you felt the words more than you heard them. It didn’t diminish their strength in the slightest.
“Sev…”
“I have many things to tell you.”
Severus could never tell you everything, but he could tell you some things. You deserved all the truth he could afford.
“I want to hear all of it.” Maybe you weren’t expecting the story you would hear, but it didn’t matter. Nothing would change your mind - or your heart. “I love you, too, Severus.”
Abandoning the fireworks, Severus led you back to his quarters. He had every intention of giving you the truth he owed you, but maybe after one more kiss.
A reminder of what he would fight for in the times ahead.
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blooming-violets · 20 days
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Dancing on my Own Peter/Reader …out of lust.(44).Because this fic lives in my heart.. And because I’m a fucking pathetic egoist, and I want them to have that moment, even if only once.
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[link to original ship prompt]
[link to Dancing On My Own]
A/N: This takes place literally right after the events of the original story but could also be read as it's own blurb with Peter x Reader.
Therapy, apologies, and abstinence. 
Those were her three rules. 
They had made it home early that morning. Each of them were exhausted in their own right. It had been a long time since Peter allowed himself to open up like that. He knew what he had done was wrong. He knew he wasn’t right. But, for the first time in forever, he felt hope. He had forgotten what hope felt like. 
And happiness. 
Not the kind of happiness that feels like the sun was shooting straight out of your body but a more subtle, dull glimmer of happy. Like burning embers still keeping the coals warm after the fire has died out. It was the start of something new. 
She had given him a new lease on a life he thought had died along with Gwen. 
Therapy, apologies, abstinence. 
He could do those three things. He would do anything if it would keep her around. 
She had disappeared into her bedroom once they arrived back home to change into something more comfortable. While she was gone, Peter opened his laptop and began to search for therapists specializing in PTSD related trauma. He was scrolling through the faces of each person who could potentially help him when he heard her door creak open. 
His eyes flicked up to meet with hers. 
She had washed off her makeup, her face bare, and brushed out her hair. She wore star print pajama pants and an oversized black tee. 
And she looked more beautiful than ever. 
A smile softened his face as he stared at her. 
There was a look in her eyes that he instantly recognized. He had seen it in other women before but never in her. 
A hunger. A wild abandon. A need. 
Peter shoved his laptop to the side and stood up just in time to catch her as she threw herself into his arms. 
“Oof,” he breathed out when she collided into him with a force that almost knocked him back onto the couch. 
Time seemed to standstill as she pressed her face against his chest. He heard her breathe in his scent with her face buried against his shirt. Strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist, crushing her breasts against him, and drawing her hips to press against his. He tangled a strand of her hair around his finger, running them around her ear to gently cup her head in his palm. 
She listened to his frantic heart beat pounding away in his chest. 
“I love you, Peter.” She breathed out, softly and quietly. “I’ve loved you since I was six years old.” 
Tears burned in his eyes, “I know. Maybe I always knew. Maybe I didn’t. But you were always there. Waiting for me to pull my head out of my ass.” His hand slid down and cupped her bottom, pushing her harder against his evident desire for her growing in his pants, and she knew he loved her, too. 
A bittersweet happiness shone between them. Sadness melded with need. Neither of them knew how to feel. They didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It had been such a long night. They really should get some sleep before they did anything rash. He could feel his defenses weakening the longer she held onto him. 
She snaked her arms around his neck and gently pressed her mouth to his. She moved her lips tenderly over his, testing the waters of their new development with a hesitant kiss.  
Peter stayed still to allow her to take the lead. Abstinence. That was one of her rules. Though she didn’t specify if that included her. All she had said was that she didn’t want to date him, not yet, and that she didn’t want to listen to him have sex with anyone else…she never said anything about the two of them…
He wasn’t going to push it. It was her world and he was just living in it. 
If she wanted to stand here and kiss him, he would happily allow her to do just that. 
“Peter?” She murmured against his mouth.
“Yeah?” He whispered.
He felt her smiling against his lips. 
“I want you to kiss me back. Stop acting like a statue. It’s okay. Kiss me.” 
Kiss her. 
That’s all he ever wanted to do. He would kiss until the end of time. 
His lips parted, melting the sea of ice, and then he was kissing her back. Forcefully and with demand, wanting to claim her as his own with his mouth. Their tongues wrestled in wet, warm, electric tangles. His growing passion washed over him in cool waves of bliss. 
He could feel her melting beneath his desperate onslaught. She shivered in his arms which only made him hold onto her tighter. Her hips bucked against him and he slipped his thigh between her legs to give her some kind of friction. 
The most delicious sounding moan fell from her lips as he attacked her with hungry kisses. She ground against his thigh and grabbed fistfuls of his hair. Peter felt the dizziness from lack of oxygen as she sucked the air straight out of his lungs. 
Begrudgingly he had to pull away, forcing himself to get a grip of his body before he completely lost control. 
“I-” he panted out. “I think we should stop. This is too…too fast…you wanted to take it slow, remember? This is not slow. This is the opposite of that.”
She groaned and shook her head, “Fuck that. I need you, Peter. Right now. We can take it slow tomorrow. If I don’t have you today, I might die.”
He let out a shuddered, shaky laugh as she grabbed his hand and led him straight to her bedroom. 
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A/N: These two are so dysfunctional and fucked up and I love them for it. Let them be a trainwreck with each other! Meanwhile, Gabe is just chillin' in the hospital like "I am never dating anyone ever again wtf."
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unmaskthewriter · 7 months
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O’Death {Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader}
Summary: Arthur always said revenge was a fool’s game. You believed him, that is until the end
A/N: I am in a bad mood so expect angsty stuff, lol. Also heavily and obviously inspired by the Jen Titus cover of O’Death. It’s kind of Arthur Morgan but not really, it’s very lightly mentioned they were more than friends. Pretty sure I made this gender neutral as possible, if you spot a mistake let me know so I may fix it!
Word Count: 1053
Warnings: major canon character death, angst
O’Death…
O’Death…
O’Death…
Won't you spare me over til another year?
Arthur is gone.
That fact kept ringing in your head repeatedly as if you needed any reminder. After escorting Sadie and Abigail to Copperhead Landing to reunite with Tilly and Jack, you returned to Beaver Hollow for Arthur. The camp was lifeless and deserted, a stark contrast to months ago when it would be filled with lively music and laughter. Mrs. Grimshaw lay beside her wagon, loosely holding her shotgun. You knelt down beside her, frowning at the bullet wound. She wasn’t the nicest woman, but she held the camp together.
But what is this that I can't see
With ice cold hands takin' hold of me
“Fuck.” You whisper before standing up and looking around. ‘It wasn’t Pinkertons who shot her,’ You come to the realization, almost reliving the chaos that occurred while you were gone. You followed tracks through the caves and up along the ridge behind camp.
Arthur’s cold, lifeless body lay on the ridge, facing the rising sun.
You couldn’t recall how long you were sitting there, only that it had been some time since the sun had risen over the horizon, gracing the mountain ranges and plains with warmth and light.
You wished you could feel that warmth, that light but you only felt empty and numb. For a while, you just held his hand, occasionally brushing the mud-caked and bloody strands of hair from his face. With a free hand, you traced every cut and bruise on his cold, pale face. His beautiful eyes you so admired were open, but had been replaced with a lifeless gaze. His lips that once would breathe life into you were cold to touch, turning a faint pink.
When God is gone and the Devil takes hold
Who will have mercy on your soul?
You wonder what life could have been if Arthur had said to hell with Dutch and his loyalty, and left with you. Arthur deserved to live in a cabin on a quiet property filled with beautiful scenery and vast wildlife for him to draw until his dying days. In another life, without sickness and death, perhaps the two of you would have made official the love you had for another, and filled the homestead with children. Instead, he is here, laying propped up against the cold, stony mountain ridge, having been alone in his death. Was he afraid in his final moments? Did he wish you had come for him sooner?
Light footsteps could be heard, but you didn’t care to move.
O’Death…
O’Death…
O’Death…
O’Death…
Arthur is gone, what else is there to lose?
“I came as soon as I could…” A familiar voice breaks the bittersweet, peaceful silence between you and Arthur. You don’t bother to look and see who it is, “Oh.” He finishes quietly. You only sniffle and shrug your shoulders, gently squeezing Arthur’s hand. You hear their footsteps approach slowly before kneeling down beside you. For a moment, Charles gazes at Arthur as his hand rests on Arthur’s arm.
“Have you seen the others?” Charles spoke softly and calmly. You shake your head, letting out a defeated, quivering breath.
“G-Grimshaw… she’s back at camp, dead.” You almost choke on your words, to which Charles sighs.
“We have to bury him… it won’t be long before…” Charles trails off, a small frown on his face. You nod quietly.
“I know a spot… facing the setting sun in the west… like he wanted.” You whisper, leaning closer and placing a gentle kiss between Arthur’s brows before forcing yourself to your feet. You never felt so heavy, yet so empty.
No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold
Nothing satisfies me but your soul
Charles carefully carried Arthur to the spot you suggested. He dug the grave while you collected flowers. Off in the distance, Taima stood alongside your horse hitched to a tree. After carefully placing Arthur in the grave, a moment passes you.
“Arthur loved you.” He spoke softly, placing a gentle hand to your shoulder. Your heart ached for a love that no longer existed.
“I know.” As the western sun had set over you both, you planted the flowers as Charles placed an engraved cross at the head of the grave. You wanted to feel at peace, but you could feel nothing but anger for Dutch, for Micah, for all those who had treated Arthur like a traitor in the end.
O’Death…
Arthur Morgan - Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness
It was fitting, for Arthur, but not something you could agree with. If notions such as justice and righteousness existed, Arthur would still be alive. As you stand and look over the grave, Charles comes to stand alongside you.
“Let me take you somewhere safe,” He offers, looking at you with pleading eyes, “a hotel or even a saloon. I just can’t let you be alone out here…”
“Nowhere is safe with men like Dutch Van Der Linde and Micah Bell alive.” You whisper, refusing to tear your eyes away from the grave.
Well I am Death, none can excel
I'll open the door to heaven or hell
“Arthur was sick, you knew that. You don’t know what exactly happened-“ He explains, placing a hand on your shoulder that you shrug off quickly as if it were a disease.
“What about Sean? Kieran? Hosea and Lenny? All dead because of Dutch’s foolish plans… and where is Dutch now?” You cry, clenching your eyes shut for a moment, “where is loyalty now… when the man who was like a son to Dutch is dead?” Your voice falters. Perhaps if you wished strong enough, you’d wake up and none of this would be real. Unfortunately, you open your eyes and Arthur’s grave remains. Small hands ball into tiny fists as tears escape your eyes.
O’Death…
O’Death…
“I know what you plan, do not-“ Charles attempts to negotiate.
“I must.” You tell him, at last meeting his gaze with bloodshot eyes and cheeks burning with tears. You swiftly turn on your heel, whistling for your horse. She gallops forward, and you mount her.
“Goodbye, Charles.”
My name is Death and the end is here...
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naiatabris · 3 months
Text
celebration
This is a little drabble I wrote that didn't quite fit in "Last Light." I think even after the graveyard scene, Astarion would occasionally struggle with setting boundaries around sex and feel anxiety about saying "no," even with a partner who's supportive and deeply trusted. I wanted to explore what that might look like in the very bittersweet aftermath of the final battle. If you've read this far thanks for indulging my brainworms, and hope you enjoy! (Small content warning: consensual bite.)
**********
The bath water was cold, but Astarion could not bring himself to get out of it.
They’d done it. They’d killed the Elder Brain—or Nether Brain, or whatever it had been by that point. They’d saved the damn world. And it had cost Astarion exactly what he’d feared it would. It had cost him the sun.
He’d thought himself prepared for the possibility. Not a day had gone by since Cazador’s death that he didn’t wonder how much longer the tadpole would protect him. But some part of him, some stupid little part that had failed to learn all the lessons of these past two centuries, had hoped that the tadpole’s changes were permanent. As usual, hope had turned itself around on him and stabbed sharper than any dagger. He felt ragged, wretched, nothing like a man who had just faced down an apocalypse and come out on top.
It's our moment of triumph. And I’m ruining it for her.
Hells. He should have been whisking Lia into his arms, carrying her to his bed, celebrating the fact that they had nothing to do for the next several weeks except enjoy each others’ company and bodies. But now he was once again what Cazador had made him, a helpless spawn trapped in the shadows, and the thought of being intimate with her tonight raised all the old shame and disgust.
He shoved his hand against the surface of the water angrily, raising a little wave, his face tightening in frustration. Gods, he’d only just gotten himself back, rediscovered his own desire. And at the first setback it had slipped through his fingers like a fumbled coin.
Drying off and pulling on his old favorite clothes helped a bit, helped his body feel almost like his again. But he still felt a sinking sense of dread as he pushed open the door to their common room at the Elfsong. He was going to disappoint her. She’d be kind about it, of course, but he’d see it in her eyes. She was going to be reminded of all the things he could not give her, all the reasons why she should have told him “no” at his grave. 
When he entered the room he spotted Lia sitting at the fire, the owlbear cub’s head in her lap. She was staring into the flames as if they had hypnotized her, slumped against the back cushions, her eyes were open but miles away. She did not seem to register his presence, and she did not look like her usual self.
Astarion felt his brow furrow a bit. “Darling?”
She blinked and sat up. “There you are,” she said sheepishly. “Sorry. A lot to think about.” She turned to look at him and frowned, clearly seeing something in his face. “Is everything all right?”
“No.” The word slipped out of its own accord. “I—could we speak in private?”
The furrow between her brows deepened, but she nodded and stood, following him into his room, drawing a deep breath as he shut the door.
“I don’t want to have sex tonight,” he blurted.
He readied himself for disappointment or frustration on her face, for an oh-so-patient sigh, or a look of pity. But all he saw was a lessening of the worry.
“Gods, I thought you were going to say—well, never mind that,” she said, shaking her head. “Astarion, it’s all right. Really. I—”
“It’s not,” he burst out, frustration making the words angrier than he’d intended. “We fucking won. We should be celebrating, damn it. Enjoying our victory, enjoying each other! Instead I can’t stop feeling fucking sorry for myself, sorry for what I lost. I hate that I won’t be able to watch the sun rise tomorrow. I hate it! And it’s all I can think about, and it’s the last thing I should be thinking about, and it doesn’t change how much I want you but I—somehow I don’t want to, not even with you.” He ran his fingers into his damp hair. “Am I making any sense? Hells, I only half understand what’s going on in my head.”
“Oh, Astarion.” Lia bit her lip in worry, and seemed about to reach for him, but pulled her hand back. Then she rubbed the hand across her eyes as her shoulders sagged. She drew a heavy breath. “Well, it might help to know that if you’d suggested sex tonight, I would have said no.”
Astarion drew himself up a bit straighter and blinked in surprise. He’d tied himself in so many knots worrying that he would disappoint her, but it hadn’t even occurred to him that she might not be interested. 
For the first time since the bath he really looked at her face. Lia was clean and healed, and should have looked much better than she had covered in bruises and muck and gore at the docks—but there were shadows on her face and a weary set to her frame, and it looked very much as if tears were shimmering in her eyes.
“I don’t feel like celebrating anything,” she continued, her voice wobbling as she wrapped one arm around herself. “Orpheus’s fate was awful and I feel so guilty about it. I miss Lae’zel and Wyll, and I’m so angry that Karlach had to go back to Avernus, and it’s not fair that you lost the sun, and I’m… gods, I’m exhausted, Astarion,” she said, half-laughing, though he could sense that she was doing it to keep herself from crying. “I’ve never been so tired in my life, not even the day we fought Myrkul. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open in front of the fire. The only reason I even tried was because I know you need to feed.”
Astarion felt as if the world was rearranging itself in front of him. Here he’d thought that he was ruining something for her. But there on her face was all the same conflict and weariness and sadness that he felt. Though he didn’t like the thought of her feeling it, the knowledge that he was not alone in his misery eased some of the bitter ache in his chest.
Instinctively, Astarion stepped forward and gathered Lia into his arms, pulling her head to rest against his shoulder. He felt her sag into him, leaning on him for support, and he held her close, stroking her hair. “Poor darling. And here I was, taking my time and wallowing,” he said ruefully.
“You don’t have to apologize.” She looked up at him with concern. “And I meant what I said, you know. You don’t have to sleep with me to be with me. If you don’t want sex again for a while I really do understand.” She swallowed. “I can go back to my own room, if that seems better for now.”
“Oh gods, don’t you dare,” he groaned, tightening his arms around her. “I’m sorry, my love. I know I’m an utter mess tonight. But I also know that if I wake up tomorrow and don’t see your face, I am going to be even more of a miserable wreck than I am now.”
“Let’s get comfortable so you can feed, then,” she said warmly, touching his cheek with the tips of her fingers. “And then I’m sleeping as long and as heavily as I can. I mean it. I might snore.”
He let out an unsteady chuckle. “Oh hells. You snore? I regret this relationship already,” he joked, swallowing as a few tears threatened his own eyes.
“Too late,” she said, laughing a bit. “You’re stuck with me.”
They wound up spooning in the bed, Lia warm and soft in the curve of Astarion’s body, close and comfortable together. Astarion breathed in her scent for a moment and felt a sort of peace flow through him. His anger and disappointment were still there, still heavy within him, but for the first time since he’d felt the sun’s burn he believed that their weight would lessen in time. And he could feel Lia relax as well, could hear her breath slow as she sank into the pillow and she nestled herself against him. 
He bit her neck as gently as he could, felt gratitude flood him as her blood filled his mouth, felt the echoes of the sun’s damage fade as the strength from her gift coursed through him. He pulled his fangs from her skin with only a little reluctance and ran his tongue over the bite marks, cleaning up the traces of blood.
“Thank you, darling,” he whispered. “All done.”
“Mmmkay. Going to sleep now,” she mumbled hazily. “Night, Astarion. Love you.”
“I love you too.” He pressed his forehead into the back of her head, closing his eyes and tightening his arms around her. “Gods, I really love you.”
A deep, shuddering breath let him know she had not heard. Sleep had already found her. But he hoped that somehow she knew anyway.
Also up on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53386624
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kerubimcrepin · 3 months
Text
Episode 20 - My Friend Bashi (Part 1)
We had reached the milestone of 20 episodes, and I want to sincerely thank the readers for sticking with me so far. :)
I also have a small announcement: after finishing liveblogging this episode, I will take a very small break from the show to do some reading of articles and comics instead.
It's starting to feel awkward - constantly referencing some canon materials without reviewing them on this blog proper, y'know? I originally planned to do this all at once, before the movie, but I think it'll be more fun to do it in multiple reading breaks, during the show.
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So many kids in this city, and Joris is friends with none of them. Except for Tatak.
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All analysis and plot leaves my body as I think about how much Kerubim cares about Joris.
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He's really not perfect, but no matter how much I joke about his failures, he really does care and try his best.
He's too nice for me to actually make fun of in any serious manner.
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It's very nice to see the more down-low, bittersweet moments of parenting and childhood portrayed. It's also nice that it's just between the two of them, without Simone.
I love her, but it's very cute to see just Joris and Kerubim, and how they act when they're alone together.
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I think that it's interesting, that even at 7yo, Joris is already at the... "this one social interaction was a disaster, and it's over, just irredeemably over"-level overthinking about relationships.
Perhaps it's knowing that for Kerubim it, often times, was like that. Kerubim did inspire very many people to either hate him with passion, or leave him.
Perhaps it's the fact that, besides Kerubim, Kerubim's friends, and Simone, he doesn't have a family; and besides Tatak, he doesn't seem to have any friends: and that makes him struggle with the idea of losing relationships.
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Keke I will be real, I think Tatak is his only friend in general.
...Man. I am making myself sad by writing these things.
I don't think Joris ever had good social skills in his life. Just issues after issues.
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As I've said in the previous posts, both Keke and Joris have an issue with needing to be liked always all the time, and the way it makes them do things to seem Cool and Awesome. Even if Joris has this issue in a very introverted way.
It might just be normal kids stuff, but it does add a certain flair to the things we see him do as an adult, if one accepts the idea he's always been like this.
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Kerubim's way of connecting to others is to draw from his own experiences, and compare them. It's a more... mature way of cheering up people, than just saying "it gets easier!" like he used to.
For all his faults, Kerubim has grown emotionally from his youth. But it can be a thin line between making everything about yourself, and trying to say that it gets better from experience.
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Even so, Joris cares a lot about his experiences and life (cough cough. the Lore), so it works for them, both as a way to distract him and to cheer him up. Kerubim knows this, it's his go-to technique.
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Anyway.
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I think Kerubim either vastly overestimates the depth of what happened here (I highly doubt Ecaflip is giving him tasks because he's "the best"), or he is lying to Joris, because "I spent my whole childhood afraid that my father, who is a living god, would eat me Zeus-style, because of shit like cleaning the toilets badly or not delivering the fish on time." isn't a nice story.
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This is exactly what I'm talking about.
A small aside: according to The Wheel Of Destiny #8 Kerubim Crepin (which will be one of the things I liveblog during the Reading Break), Bashi and Kerubim became friends before the events of episode 3, Strich Hunt.
It makes a lot of sense, because before the events of that episode, Ecaflip had... a very rough way of treating and speaking to Kerubim. Even if he had a soft spot for him, enough to save him (and then manipulate him) during said Wheel of Destiny article, I think Kerubim only truly cemented himself as Ecaflip's most favourite in the Strich Hunt episode.
Also, considering the fact that in Wheel of Destiny, little Bashi reports to knowing and strongly disliking Atcham, it's safe to say that in this episode we have a confirmed instance of Atcham being canonically present and simply not mentioned.
...keke sure is the guy who says "im the last living crepin. laugh" while having a brother. insane.
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I yet again want to gush about the portrayal of relationships in this show.
I think all of us can relate to meeting someone, and not thinking much, — not yet knowing that they will turn out to be one of the coolest people you've ever met.
Anyway, tangent incoming.
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One thing that's interesting to me, is that Kerubim is never depicted as having friends in the temple. From what we see, he spends most of the time alone, or with Ecaflip.
The reasons may be:
He is Ecaflip's favorite. He had important tasks from the moment he joined the temple. It alienated people.
He was Atcham's brother. Kids are judgemental, and Atcham is a perfect bullying target. Chances are, they didn't like him due to the association.
He came in very mentally ill and unsociable, due to, y'know, being orphaned, and never managed to make friends because the impression that he's "the sad mentally ill kid" stayed.
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No wonder that he got anxious around three people, and then immediately trusted them when they were nice to him.
He probably hadn't had anyone be nice to him in ages. Or, like, acknowledge him too much, at the very least.
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I won't elaborate on how I think Atcham was treated in the temple lest I fucking scare you, (Something-something, literally catboy Rule of Rose,) but I will say that, just like Atcham is still violently mentally ill due to whatever happened to him, Kerubim's experiences with loneliness and alienation as a child most likely fueled his dishonesty and attention-seeking behaviours as an adult.
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So I understand why, even though Bashi kinda sucks, Kerubim is so broken up about losing him. There's a lot more tragedy to this than one can first see.
It was a very important moment for Kerubim to finally have a person in his life that wasn't his father (who constantly threatened to fucking eat him), one of the kids who either disliked him or were too intimidated to talk to him, one of the random monks, or his severely mentally ill brother (who fucking hated him.)
He was his first friend.
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faorism · 1 year
Text
thinking about @bisexual-enby-jellyfish talking about the lack of time travel fic in the fandom, and got me thinking that since canon is satisfying, instead of fix its, we gotta have break its.
BITTERSWEET CANON COMPLIANT PONDERINGS AHEAD
canon lev:red era and pardison is out on a mission for alecs non-leverage side hustle, and they are going to a specific town which they remember distantly eliot talking about it, from years back, how that was a moment of decision for him early in his military career. it was there—eliot admitted when he was feeling especially vulnerable, with a smile that was supposed to be funny but really wasnt—it was there that put him on the path that lost his soul. that comment has a lot more weight now, after eliot saying he has lonely he has been for years (which still haunts parker), and how apparently he told sophie he cannot be redeemed (which is now haunting hardison), and because of all the hitting eliots body is starting to betray him (which scares them both). maybe before they left, they had a tense argument. eliot wanted to go with them, but pardison was like?? you legit told us this is #trauma for you, no. and eliots shrug of a response to what it would put him through sat ill with them.
the memories of eliots unhappiness gives pardison the willies but they try to move on, but something feels... off? anyway MAGIC the resonances of eliot's soul-ache draw the two in to a long abandoned military coup base and they get sent back to around 20/21ish eliot (with alec around 35, the age difference between them but reverse in of s1).
they dont meet right the second they land, but its close: eliot finds pardison in the active base, and he rescues them because he thinks hardison and parker are his retrieval targets. (parker... was under the impression eliot wasn't able to get in time to save the real target in his timeline?? hardison just grumbles uhh.... multiple universes are a headfck irl.)
eliot is on an extended mission, one of his first serious solo ones, one that is clearly testing him out for recruitment for special ops. so hardison and parker can't be whisked away and has to stick around eliot For Reasons with an assumed identity. pardison realizes that eliot's mission can be better resolved (aka little/no bloodshed) with a con, and they convince eliot to go along. they aren't there long per se, but there is a lot of thrills and suspense and tension and idk plot stuff, i hate plot stuff so imagine that's happening in the background.
throughout it all, hardison and parker treat eliot like they normally would... which is utterly familiar and intimate, which throws young eliot. and by throws i mean seduces accidentally. eliot gets all heart-eyed, which hardison and parker don't notice right away because they miss their home time, but also eliot just always kinda acts like that. eliot is falling so hard but he tries to be respectful because obviously pardison is together, but a man can dream...
hardison and parker have Talks about how important it is to not change the past, as much as their presence undoubtedly has changed something. but as much as hardison is genre aware, it's harder for him. the rawness of eliot's confession—that he doesn't think he can ever be redeemed—sits heavily on hardison. and he also is like... why are we here, why were brought back? maybe we are supposed to heal a hurt, right a wrong, maybe... parker just wants to go home.
but she is the one who breaks. eliot is shot at and hurt while protecting them, and the screams from parker and hardison are just... gut wrenching. and as hardison is patching eliot's shoulder up and parker is wiping down eliot's dirt and sweat-drenched face, eliot is like... something aint right with you two. hardison tries to deflect with a joke, but eliot is like, no. you... know me. you care about me. please—he interrupts, when hardison is about to deny harder—the truth. and hardison and parker look at each other. she nods so hardison tells him. some of it, but enough. he tells eliot that they know him from the future. they work together, but it's more than that. parker and hardison arent sure how they came back, but they know some of the why. maybe. they are gonna help eliot, and maybe they get back to their time. maybe not. but they aren't gonna abandon eliot here if they can help it.
eliot gets quiet and is like... do you... are we... and hardison furrows his brows. eliot decides to be brave, braver than he may have ever felt before (and thats saying something) and he asks, are we together? and parker is like, yeah he just told you, we are a team, have been for years, we're family and eliot is like no not... hardison and parker are like what?? and eliot just shakes his head and is like, when you say family, you mean...?
hardison pauses from his stitching to say, you two have a permanent kill switch for my computers in case i go evil mad scientist. and parker says only you and alec can look over my harnesses before i jump. i don't double check your work anymore. hardison says you... and what can he say that would make sense to this eliot? what would have the weight? you let us take care of you.
eliot's eyes go wide, hardison's observation landing just right, and here is where parker meets her limit. dont enlist, she says
and eliot, stunned, tries to make a joke to cut the tension choking him: he looks over his gear and is like, little late for that, darlin'.
and parker is like, don't join black ops. go to aimee back as soon as you can.
parker breaks because... parker sees this eliot, this softer version of himself and parker loves eliot, her eliot, but also this one. she didnt know what eliot had lost but now she knows. she knows and she has the power to do something. she can't hoard eliot away when things can. be. better. for. him. she knows what make us us, but...... us is a lonely eliot. us is an eliot that feels damned. us is an eliot who deserves so much more, everything, anything. they can promise him robot bodies, but there's something else they can give him. a life beyond what he... what he had to make with them. a life with whatever eliot calls a soul.
hardison gasps parker but doesn't disagree with her, and if eliot had doubts they were from the future or had some special knowledge about him, this was proof enough.
and what'll happen if i dont?
parker hugs herself tight: you can have a good life, el. the one you want.
what do you know what i want? and god, he sounds so much like their eliot but also so much his twenty/twenty-one years.
it's what you've told us, hardison says.
and what about what we got? parker and hardison don't say anything. i don't think its enough? i ever say that? exactly that?
parker and hardison want to say yes, but they can't. they also cant quite say no. both hurt. the lack of clarity burns.
as parker and hardison try to find the words to convince him, eliot just sighs. in your time, did i even tell you i love y'all two?
and parker... okay, look there's a lot going on and she is very very sad and she is always very very shocked. so she responds, you don't love us.
eliot gets that... that fucking martyr smile of his: the way you treat me? respect me? and... you two are gorgeous. funny. smart. there's no way i aint in love.
and parker is like. you can't know that.
eliot is like, i can because im halfway there myself. more than halfway, if im honest.
and parker and hardison are... floored. no, you can't love us, hardison repeats. he is sure of this. he has to be.
eliot: future me or now?
hardison: either. both. eliot, you can't love us. eliot can't. that... that doesn't make sense. no. god, what have they been doing for fifteen years if... no. god no. if eliot loved them, he would have said something. they would be together. no. this eliot is so green and young and unbroken and... this eliot doesn't know their eliot. he's wrong. he... has to be.
eliot frowns. so i trust you with everything i am but i aint in love, you aren't enough, and... and you want me to take a different path. away from y'all
hardison: it sounds awful when you say it like that.
eliot: it doesn't sound like a good situation, from where im sitting
parker: we just want you happy, eliot. even if it means we cant have you.
eliot sobers. nods. i won't promise you i will. but... i will consider it.
and that's what parker and hardison want but they are just… spooked. but so is eliot. he withdraws and says he has it from here. hardison and parker try to insist they need to help, but eliot gives them a stare down until they take the out.
after that... things are heavy. but the con is rolling along fine, and above all else, they are professionals. as the con is wrapping up, parker is planning out the last details about the gloat and she's like, we won't be there but you should... and they are like oh. yes. that.... that's gonna happen. that will be when they leave.
the con goes well until inevitably they hit a snag, so when they are gonna break up for separate parts of the con, the departure is on a much more sudden time frame than they expected. they three look at each other because they know they won't see each other again, not like this. maybe not ever again.
as parker and hardison try to find the words to leave eliot behind, eliot just sighs. i told you i would consider leaving the army but you gotta answer me and don't lie.
parker: anything
eliot: is there a time you are alive now because i was there? not... not any hitter. specifically me.
oh. tear well up in parker's eyes. not fair.
because parker thinks about a sunken cavern of ice. that one shouldn't even count, any other hitter would probably have just told her to leave the body from the beginning. parker does not care. eliot saved her in more ways than just convincing her to climb out of the cave in the end.
and hardison thinks of that second day, technically the first twenty-four hours.... thinks of eliot pulling hardison up before the warehouse blows up. maybe the choreography of the day would have meant hardison didn't fall, or maybe he did live but was injured, or maybe a million things. eliot steadied hardison, was his friend, his confidante, the one who held him first when hardison came up from the ground.
so the answer yes then?
parker: it's not that simple
eliot: why can't it be?
parker makes an unhappy sound. the time is running out. they need to get to position. now. but...
hardison holds eliot by the neck, as eliot once did him, and says. you once told me all i had to do was to show you the way and you would save the world for us. we want to show you the way to save your soul, whatever it takes, whatever happens to us, because... that's what love can look like, too. we just want what's best for you, whatever that looks like. just think about it. okay?
eliot looks like he wants to resist, but hardison squeezes desperately, trembling.
okay. i'll think about it.
hardison draws eliot close, into a hug. thank you.
eliot clutches him back. goddammit, he whispers, no explanation.
parker is there when hardison pulls back an inch. eliot hugs her too, and says into her ear, make sure he doesnt get into too much trouble without me, alright?
parker does not say anything at first. says, goodbye, eliot, with their cheeks squeezed together, that's how hard she's hugging him.
bye, park.
and so.
they part.
they finish the con, and parker and hardison are so incredibly anxious about what the repercussions are gonna be (they are willing to take them, for eliot) and also are already like, mourning eliots place in their lives because they love him
they finish out the con and they feel the tug and they get back to the present. its done. they did it.
parker and hardison are shaking and things seem similar enough, that means eliot had to have chosen them.... no, no, they can't get their hopes up.
......they had to have found a way without him. they had to, because that's what eliot would have wanted from them in exchange for his soul.
but just as they get their bearings, there's a sound just a little away. they stiffen; parker gets ready to fight. but it's...
oh.
eliot holds them close and he's like, god, it's been weeks i've been checking every day
you can't be here, hardison says
you promised you would consider it, parker says, distressed
and eliot... doesnt respond with confusion, i... knew it had to be around now if it really was you but i was never sure it was real before
parker, face tucked squarely into eliot's neck: you remember us?
i didn't or... i didn't include you in my mission report. there was no proof yall existed and then the next deployment, the very next one, they... they got me. held me for months. i was convinced yall were a fantasy to give me hope. over the years, i thought maybe, maybe it was... but no, it couldnt be. but since y'all vanished, it's been coming back. eliot's fingers dig into them where he's holding them. its been coming back, ive been remembering, and ive been here, waiting
hardison, tears flowing: we told you to go home. we warned you. you could have been okay.
eliot pulls back to meet hardison's eyes: when you left, i imagined my life if i went back. it... wouldve been nice. married to aimee, likely, but that would've never lasted. not forever. too the same, all passion and no patience. mightve gone to work for my dad. itd be comfortable. a decent life.
parker: it would have been good. safe. you would have been happy.
eliot shakes his head: i chose the army first, before you showed up. it was always gonna be what i did. i was stubborn, then, and i didnt understand the scope but i was following it to its ends.
hardison: so it was all for nothing.
eliot: no, fuck. no. you showed me a way to keep my soul, but whatever happened to it, a way i couldnt take, but i at least knew, somewhere deep inside... eliot stops, tries to untangle them.
hardison: what did you know?
eliot: i'm here that's what matters
parker: please
eliot: even then, i knew at least... my soul might be lost but i would always know where my heart was
parker: oh. you love us
of course, darlin'. eliot swallows.
you never told us
you never told me
hardison: we didnt want you to leave
eliot: i never wanted to give you a reason to push me away
parker: we're so stupid.
hardison puts his forehead to eliots. like really really stupid. you said you liked us because we are smart, but we're so dumb, man
theres so much to resolve. so much doubt, so many feelings to untangle, too many misunderstandings to air... but for now, when eliot laughs and says at least youre still pretty, and hardison huffs offended before trying to tickle eliot saying oh did you say petty? i heard petty did you hear petty parker? and parker is like, oh i think i did and they overpower eliot with tickles and ninja attacks that lead to cuddles and kisses.
and the soul-pain will always linger for eliot, that won't ever go away. not quite. but in the warmth of their silliness on a spot that once hurt so bad, there... their laughter brings something that has been there longer than eliot knew to look: a heartsong of devotion, of care, of love... and that? that wont ever go away
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tipsyjaehyun · 6 months
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which are your yaijom's favorite scenes that made you scream into the pillow??
Hello anon! If I could I would link the entire 12 episodes and the pilot because every single one of their interactions made me lose my mind. But no, I'm gonna include some of the scenes here, the ones that made me scream into pillow out of giddiness (this could turn into a lengthy answer so, sorry for that. Also, I'm trying to do this in chronological order but I might miss a few scenes).
The first meet - The camera work, the ost playing in the background, the way we are introduced to the character of Khun Yai, the expression of vague recognition in their faces because of their dreams. AAAAH, PERFECTION!
Khun Yai making Jom read smut - That was such a hilarious scene. The background score getting faster and faster as Jom continues reading the text, Khun Yai's bewildered face, Jom starting to curse the two-timing male lead of the novel... CHEF'S KISS!
DRUNK KHUN YAI - Could there be anything cuter than a drunk Khun Yai just reciting love poems to his crush? Their soft conversations, with Khun Yai's head on Jom's lap, Khun Yai asking Jom to forget his old lover and then confessing his own feelings with the most romantic poem of all time. Then him telling Jom that he only needs one lover (read Jom), a throwback to Jom telling Khun Yai that he hates libertines during the smut reading scene.
The lanthom scene in ep 5 - Khun Yai trying to persuade his father to lessen Mae Prik and Jom's punishment, him apologizing to Jom by giving him a lanthom flower, his promise to make things better in the future... BEAUTIFUL!
THEIR FIRST KISS - One of my favourite episodes. We start off with the Christmas party, the conversation between James and Jom, a jealous Khun Yai being spotted in the wild, Jom making Khun Yai's favourite dessert, Khun Yai's confession, THEIR FIRST KISS (!!!), the OST in the background... I could go on and on.
The dance scene - I agree that it is a bittersweet scene, a glimpse of what could have been if they could be open with their love, with everyone's support, their friends and family just looking at them with happiness but it was so well executed. ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SCENES IN THE SHOW.
Olive oil scene - Can I just say that this was the most brilliant portrayal of sensuality, sexual longing, tension, desire on screen? It was not explicit, per say, but still managed to show the feeling of want and lust perfectly. The background score, the back and forth between Khun Yai's bedroom and Jom's and then between Khun Yai's expressions to Jom's... SPECTACULAR!
EPISODE 9 & 10 - These made me scream into my pillow out of frustration. The whole fiasco around engagement, the breakup scene, then Jom just fucking shit up by exposing Uncle Dech and Robert, the aftermath... MINDBLOWING!
Jom drawing the portrait of Khun Yai - In the middle of the anticipation of the doom, these love birds getting a few moments to showcase their love for each other was like a balm to my aching soul. It was yet again bittersweet to watch these two being playful while knowing what was round the corner.
YAI KANTHORN - Listen, I had no hopes at all to see Kanthorn. I had made peace with the thought that they're gonna end the show on a bittersweet note but I literally threw my cushion when Kanthorn came. He had always been my babygirl and I'm glad they gave him to me, no matter how confusing and short his scene was.
This turned way lengthier than I expected. I'm not including Commander Yai scenes here with the hope that if season 2 comes, I'll get to make another one of these posts but with Commander Yai and Jom. Anon, please share your favourite scenes with me!
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imaushuyuna · 7 months
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“I Want You Around”
With Mikey Sano, Part 2
note: gn! reader, Fluff slight angst, idiots to lovers, grammar mistakes not proofread. The reader doesn’t know how to confess their love smh.
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"I fall for you every time I try to resist you"
Mikey's gaze lingered on you as you walked together toward the bakery. The weight of his unspoken feelings hung in the air like a secret only the two of you shared. It was a constant battle, this tug of emotions that refused to be ignored. Each time he tried to push his feelings aside, they resurfaced even stronger. It was as if the universe conspired to draw you closer together, making it impossible to resist the magnetic pull that bound your hearts. Every stolen glance, every shared laugh, and every subtle touch seemed to deepen the connection, and neither of you could deny the growing attraction that had become a beautiful and unstoppable force in your lives.
"We can get away, Palm trees, beach views. Ordinary day All I wanna hear is inner visions on replay"
The day unfolded as usual, But for you and Mikey, it held a different meaning, a promise of stolen moments and shared secrets. As you walked together, the world around you seemed to blur into insignificance. The city's hustle and bustle faded, replaced by the vision of palm trees swaying gently under the sun and the soothing sound of waves caressing the shore. It was a daydream that had been etched into your hearts, an escape you both yearned for but couldn't grasp just yet. The desire to get away, to find solace in each other's company amidst palm trees and beach views, was a silent ache that lingered beneath the surface. In the ordinary, you found the extraordinary, and the unspoken longing in your hearts created a bittersweet undercurrent to your day, a yearning for the paradise you could only imagine for now.
"Thinking we should wait, but we don't really want to, I just wanna get away"
The two of you sat in a cozy cafe, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air. The day had unfolded like any other, yet beneath the surface, there was an unspoken tension. Mikey fidgeted with his coffee cup, his gaze occasionally flicking towards you as if he was about to say something important.
Finally, he broke the silence, his voice tinged with hesitation. "Hey, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about," Mikey began, his eyes fixed on the table. "It's just that... lately, I've been feeling like we're meant to be more than just friends."
Your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel your cheeks flush with nervousness. You'd suspected Mikey's feelings, but hearing him say it out loud sent a jolt through you. It was as if the entire world had suddenly shifted, and you weren't sure how to respond.
Mikey continued, "I know we've been through a lot together, and I value our friendship more than anything. But I can't deny that there's something deeper between us, something I can't ignore."
You bit your lip, trying to find the right words, but all you could muster was a shaky smile. The unspoken emotions in the air weighed on both of you, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. The cafe that had once been so familiar now felt like uncharted territory, and you wondered where this newfound revelation would lead your relationship.
Mikey's heartfelt confession hung in the air, creating a charged atmosphere in the cozy cafe. You struggled to find the right words to respond, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. It was as if you both stood on the precipice of a new chapter, aware that taking that step would change everything.
"I just..." you began, your voice trembling with the weight of your unspoken feelings. "I need some time to think." The cafe felt like a sanctuary of secrets, and you couldn't help but wonder where your thoughts would lead you, whether it would be toward the adventure you secretly yearned for or a different path entirely.
"I don't wanna kiss you, Yeah, I just wanna feel you" "I want you around (around)"
As the conversation continued, the weight of unspoken emotions hung in the air like a delicate dance of butterflies. Mikey's confession had opened a door to a world of possibilities, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation mixed with a touch of nervousness.
"I don't wanna rush things," you said, your voice soft but sincere, "but I don't want to deny what's between us either."
Mikey met your gaze, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I feel the same way," he admitted, his fingers gently brushing against yours. "I just want to be close to you, to share all those moments that we've been missing."
You nodded, your heart filled with a sweet blend of excitement and contentment. "I don't wanna kiss you," you confessed, "Yeah, I just wanna feel you."
With those words, you both leaned in closer, your lips meeting in a gentle, affectionate kiss. It was a promise of things to come, a beginning to a new chapter in your relationship. As you pulled away, your smiles spoke of the deep connection you shared, and the cafe seemed to shimmer with the magic of new beginnings.
~FIN
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A/N: does this make any sense? probably not but hey at least it got posted, right? Again my friend wrote this so another big shout out to her with exams happening and having to study I don't have time for writing as much as I used to so I'm really sorry everyone. <3
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lifeofpriya · 8 months
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Love Me Again - Davis Schneider imagine
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[gif credit goes to @donttelltheelff]
song of the fic: Love Me Again by V
You met Davis one summer evening at a baseball game in Buffalo. As you watched the players on the field, your eyes were drawn to his athleticism and grace. He was the team's utility player, always ready to step in wherever he was needed. You couldn't help but be captivated by his charm and infectious smile.
Your paths crossed by chance at a post-game celebration. Davis approached you with a nervous yet genuine smile, introducing himself with a warm handshake. From that moment, a connection between you grew into something beautiful and unique.
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. You spent countless hours together, sharing laughter, dreams, and secrets. Davis became your confidante, your rock, and your greatest supporter. The bond between you was unbreakable, or so you thought.
As the baseball season progressed, Davis's talent shone brightly, drawing the attention of the bigwigs in Toronto, who gave him an opportunity to show his talent among the crowds of thousands of fans at the Rogers Centre. The dreams he had nurtured since childhood were within his grasp, but it came with a heavy price.
With each passing game, Davis's dedication to his sport intensified. He spent less time by your side, and his absence weighed heavily on your heart. You understood the sacrifices required to pursue a career in professional sports, yet it didn't make it any easier.
The letters and phone calls became sporadic, filled with apologies and promises to make it up to you. But as the distance between you grew, so did the ache in your chest. You missed the late-night conversations, the stolen moments of tenderness, and the feeling of being truly understood.
The day came when Davis was called up to the major leagues. It was a bittersweet triumph, for while he achieved his lifelong dream, it meant a chasm separating the two of you. You stood at the airport, his bags packed, and tears streaming down your face. The weight of the impending goodbye pressed upon your chest, suffocating your hopes.
He held your trembling hands, his eyes filled with regret and longing. "I never wanted to hurt you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "But I can't let go of this opportunity. It's my chance to make something of myself."
You nodded, unable to find your voice. You understood Davis's desires, drive, and relentless pursuit of a career that consumed him. But it didn't make the impending emptiness any less painful. You wished for a different outcome, a future filled with shared moments, but life had its own plans.
Months passed, and you found yourself drowning in a sea of memories. The photographs on the walls and the echoes of laughter haunted every corner of your home. The ache in your heart grew with each passing day as if the absence of his presence had carved a void within you.
You followed Davis's career from a distance, watching his name become synonymous with success. He became a star, celebrated by fans and loved ones alike. But in your heart, he remained the person who had stolen a piece of you, leaving you adrift in melancholy.
Time couldn't heal the wounds inflicted by the separation. The pain lingered, a constant reminder of what could have been. The dreams you once shared became faded fragments of a distant past, and the thought of finding love again seemed impossible.
Years rolled by, and Davis's star continued to rise. The world celebrated his victories while you silently mourned the love that slipped through your fingers. You wondered if he ever thought of you, if regret ever danced across his mind during quiet moments of solitude.
One fateful evening, a familiar face caught your eye as you sat alone in a quiet café. It was Davis, albeit older, wearier, and weathered by the demands of fame. He stood at the entrance, hesitating momentarily before his gaze met yours.
He crossed the room, his footsteps heavy with unspoken words. As he reached your table, the silence between you was thick with the weight of what had been lost. He sat down, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and regret.
"I thought about you every day," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I never stopped loving you, not for a single moment. But I couldn't bear to see the disappointment in your eyes if I failed. I'm sorry for breaking your heart.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his confession. The wounds he had unknowingly inflicted were laid bare, and the pain that had consumed you for so long threatened to overflow.
"I never stopped loving you either," you whispered, your voice trembling. "But the path we chose led us down separate roads, and we can't turn back time."
Davis nodded, his eyes filled with sorrow. "I understand," he said softly. "I have regrets, but I can't undo what's been done."
You both sat silently, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. As you looked into each other's eyes, you realized that even though the love you once shared was still alive, it had been battered and bruised by the passage of time.
With a heavy heart, you bid your final farewell to Davis, knowing it was time to let go of the dreams and memories that held you captive. It was a melancholic and somber ending to a love story that had burned brightly but ultimately fizzled out.
Life moved on, as it always does, and you found solace in the healing power of time. The ache in your heart gradually subsided, replaced by acceptance and a newfound strength. You began to rebuild your life, piece by piece, embracing the lessons learned from the bittersweet love affair with Davis.
And though the wounds of the past would always leave their mark, you discovered that the human spirit has an incredible capacity to heal. You opened your heart to new possibilities, knowing that love, in all its forms, could still find its way to you.
As you walked toward an uncertain future, you carried with you the memories of a love that once burned brightly, now a melancholic ember in the depths of your soul. And while the ending was tinged with sadness, you knew deep within that you were more robust for having loved and lost.
For you and Davis, your paths simply…diverged. It led to you both living separate lives. But the imprint of your love story remained, forever etched in the annals of both of your hearts. And perhaps, in the tapestry of your lives, you both would find solace in the knowledge that you and Davis had shared something extraordinary, even if it had been destined to end in melancholy...
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thewillofdeez · 9 months
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50/50: A Shanks/OC (and Beckman/OC) Romance - Chapter 3: Old Friends and New
Summary: A twenty year journey of friendship, love, and heartache between Shanks and the woman he loves.
Chapter 3 word count: 3071
The next morning, Riley, Shanks, and Beckman gathered the last of the items they needed from Riley’s home into a bag, which Beckman slung across his chest.
“You guys ready?” she asked.
“We are if you are,” Shanks said with a smile. “Let’s do this.”
“And…and you’re sure you still –”
“Oh my God, Riley,” Beckman said, grabbing her face and forcing her to meet his eyes. “Yes. We want you with us.” Beckman pulled her to him and kissed her on the top of her head. “Stop it. Okay?” Riley was still a little teary and unsure from the night before, and must have asked the men a dozen times already if they were really sure. She didn’t think she’d be able to believe them until she was on the ship and thoroughly out to sea. But the reassurance certainly helped.
She smiled and nodded. “Okay. Let’s go. I promise I won’t ask again.”
Shanks and Beckman opened the front door and stepped out, and Riley followed, closing the door behind her and taking a moment to look up at the building that had been her home and workspace for the last time, bidding it a silent goodbye.
“Umm, Riley?” Shanks said. Riley turned around. What appeared to be a good chunk of Isha Island’s population was standing in front of her - her patients, her friends, people she did business with…easily over a hundred people had come to see her off. At the front of the crowd was her old teacher, Dr. Hikaru, now rather aged and bent and well into her retirement. She had been the one to help Riley become a doctor in the first place, and who passed her practice onto her. In a way, it was sort of because of her that Riley was now able to go on this adventure. Riley couldn’t hold back the tears as she went to the old doctor and engulfed her in a hug, allowing it to really sink in that she might never see these people again. It was a bittersweet realization.
Shanks and Beckman stood back and allowed Riley the time to say goodbye to everyone. Some people even came with gifts, and Shanks and Beckman’s arms quickly filled with items - a few bottles of sake and rum, crayon drawings from some of her younger patients, baskets of fruit and dried meat, and more. By the time she had worked her way through the crowd, the two were thoroughly bogged down.
“Bye everyone! I’ll miss you!” She turned and waved to her village one final time as she and her friends crested a hill, and the village slowly sunk out of sight, hundreds of hands waving back at her.
Riley took some items away from the men to lighten their load, and together they made their way to Bill’s house and the shipyard.
Bill greeted them as they approached, waving enthusiastically. He brought Riley in for a bone-crushing hug - the man sometimes forgot how big he was, but Riley couldn’t complain. This was going to be the last time she’d see him for some time, after all, if ever. Together, they loaded the last of the items onto the ship. On the deck, wind whipping through her hair, Riley couldn’t help but be a little nervous. Not only had she never been out to sea, but she didn’t really know much about sailing, her boat in town being quite simplistic compared to a full-sized ship. Bill, Shanks, and Beckman had walked her though how to handle the ropes and steer, and she’d been reading up on the subject as well, but this was going to be her first time actually putting what she’d learned into practice. Not only that, but this ship was far larger than she had ever expected, and it was, for the moment, just the three of them. It was doable, but it would be difficult.
“Bill, thank you for everything,” Shanks said, embracing the larger man.
“We could never repay you for this,” added Beckman.
“We can and we will,” Shanks responded with a sly grin, “When we get some treasure under our belts.”
Bill laughed. “No need, truly. It’s been a joy! I wish I had workers like you around here more often. You boys take care of Riley, you hear?”
“We will!” said Beckman with a smile and a fond look at their new crewmate. “We’ll keep her safe.”
Finally, it was Riley’s turn to say goodbye. Bill brought her into a hug, this one gentler. He then held her out in front of him at arm’s length. “Your family would be so proud of you,” he said softly, then tilted his head in thought. “Perhaps not for the piracy part, but in general.” Riley laughed, trying to hold back more tears - she’d done more than enough of that in the last 24 hours, thank you. “Everything you went through, everything you’ve accomplished as a doctor…and your journey is only just beginning. You’re gonna do great, kid.”
“Love you, Bill.” Riley said, rubbing an eye with her hand. “Thank you.” One more embrace and he released her, stepping down the gangplank and back onto land.
Shanks and Riley lifted the gangplank as Beckman worked on unfurling the sails, then made his way to the helm. They waved goodbye to Bill and his family and team one last time, and the ship was off. When the course was set and the sails filled with wind, Riley made her way to the stern and leaned on the railing, watching as Isha Island became nothing more than an ever-shrinking spot in the distance. Shanks joined her, resting his crossed arms on the railing. They shared a smile, before resuming their watch on the speck of land in the distance. 
When the island was no longer visible, Riley spoke. “So, Captain, what’s the plan?”
“Welp, Phase I is to find people for the rest of the senior officer roles. I’ve got a vice captain and a doctor, but we need at a minimum a navigator, a sniper, a cook, a musician, a shipwright, and a helmsman. After that, we flesh out the rest of the crew. You’ll have a medical team of your own, eventually. And from there, we’ll see where it goes. We’ll build up our reputations, get our names out there, get stronger, maybe cause some trouble for the World Government.” He shot her a wink. “You’re gonna look great on a wanted poster.”
“And the One Piece?” Riley asked, smirking.
Shanks barked out a laugh. “We’ll get there in time. Officers first.”
Over the next half a year, Shanks, along with Beckman and Riley, began to assemble their officers.
The first person they added to their crew was an enormous teenager named Lucky Roux. He’d helped the trio out of a scuffle elsewhere in the South Blue. He and Shanks got to talking, Shanks learned the man was a line cook by trade with dreams of being a chef, and suddenly Shanks was helping him make that dream a reality aboard their ship.
In the East Blue, along the Gecko Islands archipelago, they found Yasopp, a sniper. Riley was surprised to learn that Shanks had met the man before and he had previously turned down an invitation to join Shanks’s crew. But as she and Beckman knew, Shanks was, if nothing else, persistent. This time when Shanks asked, Yasopp said yes at the insistence of his wife. Riley watched as he bid her and his young son goodbye to join the crew. Yasopp was also the one to name Shanks’s crew the Red Hair Pirates, and created the first version of their jolly roger, painting it on the mainsail: a skull and crossbones with a mop of crimson red hair.
Elsewhere in the East Blue, they met a young man named Limejuice, an amateur shipwright who left his father’s company to join the crew.
In the North Blue they met Building Snake, a navigator who had washed ashore a rocky, deserted island when he was shipwrecked, his entire crew presumed dead. He had initially planned to come with them only until he could reach another island, but it was only a matter of time before he agreed to become a permanent fixture of the crew.
In the West Blue, the Red Hair Pirates came across a musician called Bonk Punch. It was because of Riley, actually, that he joined the crew. Bonk had a pet monkey named Monster, who was only a few weeks old at the time. In a village that had been ravaged by pirates, Riley had gotten to work doing damage control, tending to the injured while the rest of the crew drove the other pirates out.
“Please,” Riley heard a voice as a tall figure emerged from the settling dust. “I know you’re not a veterinarian, but…please help him.” In his large hands was a tiny monkey with a gash across its chest bleeding profusely.
Riley nodded at the man, taking the monkey from him. Logically there were humans who might have needed her immediate assistance more, but she couldn’t say no to the big man and his small companion. She patched up Monster, and when he was back to full health, it took no convincing from her and Shanks to have them join the crew. When Monster grew up, Shanks was very insistent on him being considered an officer of the ship in his own right, and not just Bonk’s pet. He was, after all, a very smart monkey.
And on the Grand Line, the crew met Gab, their helmsman, an enormous man with intimidating looks but the kindest heart of perhaps all of them. Gab had been working under duress for a much crueler pirate crew, and when the Red Hair Pirates encountered them, engaging them in battle and eventually sinking their ship, Gab was quick to escape and join them.
What Shanks had said to Riley when they first met remained true - Shanks wanted kind people on his team, and all of the assembled officers met that description. Which wasn’t to say they weren’t capable of fighting, or even killing - they were, and they did when they had to. But as a crew, their goal wasn’t to cause chaos, instill fear in the average person, or get copious amounts of gold at the expense of others. It was to live freely, and to help where they could.
With the senior officers assembled, Phase II began. The Red Hair Pirates had already begun climbing the ranks of formidable pirate crews, with each member having a wanted poster boasting a decently-sized bounty (except for Riley's – as the sole non-combatant member of the crew, she was only worth 20,000, but she was determined to get that number up). Riley proudly displayed them in the mess hall every time a new one came out. They had been written about in the papers numerous times, taken on Marines both on land and at sea, and had a unique reputation: The World Government hated them, of course. Many other pirate crews hated them. But on average, while they were initially met with fear and loathing on every new island they visited, they always seemed to befriend the average person along the way. 
It took another year after that, but eventually they were able to say that the Red Hair Pirates were complete, with ten senior officers (including Monster) and 49 pirates working under them, plus Shanks, totaling 60 pirates. Shanks and Beckman had no trouble recruiting crew members - by this point, they’d developed enough of a reputation that they were worried they’d eventually have to start turning good people away.
True to his word, Shanks did provide Riley with her own medical team - working under her were a pair of brothers from Fishman Island named Dirk and Dane. They were young, but had good hearts and were eager to learn.
Shanks, Riley found herself musing one day, was an excellent captain. He was a natural for the role - brave, charismatic, a strategic thinker, and he cared deeply about every member of his crew. He kept a list in his quarters of everyone’s birthdays and insisted on celebrating every single one, was always happy to spend time with even the lowest-ranked people on the crew, treating them as if they were a member of his inner circle, and was very good at making sure everyone knew how much he appreciated them. It was the kind of family-building on a pirate ship that, as far as Riley knew, only people like Whitebeard had ever really achieved.
For her part, Riley was happy. Though it wasn't always easy being the only woman amongst fifty-nine men (and oh how she longed for the day when another girl was willing to join the crew), not a single man aboard ever gave her any hassle, and she had a friendly, playful relationship with most of them. She had their respect both as a senior officer, and as a doctor. Which wasn’t to say they couldn’t be kind of crude, boisterous, and gross - they were still men, and pirates at that - but she never once felt intimidated or endangered around them, which was more than she could say about some men she’d met at bars. If anything, the rest of the crew had a tendency to be annoyingly overprotective of her - her job was to be the crew’s doctor, and in order for her to be able to do her job in the midst of battle, the rest of the crew would act as her protector so she could work on the injured. In doing so, however, her protectors often ended up being injured themselves.
And that was the only thing Riley didn’t like about life on the Gold Dragon. Every other member of the crew was a fighter in some respect. Shanks with his sword, Beckman with his rifle, and both of them with their growing Haki. Axes, guns, staffs, slingshots, knives, and even just feet and fists - every other member of the Red Hair Pirates knew how to fight in some way, and they all worked together to help each other get stronger and share their knowledge. Hell, even Dirk and Dane knew a good bit of Fishman Karate and were able to hold their own in battle when they weren’t assisting Riley. None of them needed Devil Fruits to be a formidable crew, they were powerful on their own merits.
And that just left Riley, the weakest, the one who didn’t know how to fight, whose strength was limited, and who felt powerless about it. The one who had to rely on everyone else for her own safety. In the early days with the crew it was a minor annoyance to her, but as more and more years passed it increasingly became something she hated.
After a difficult and almost devastating battle with a fleet of Marines led by a Vice Admiral, Riley and her team had just finished fixing up the crew. In the process of defending her, Beckman had gotten a bullet to the back, just barely missing a kidney, Yassop got a minor concussion, and Gab had been stabbed. As she treated their wounds, the men still carried smiles on their faces, despite the pain. She knew that they didn’t mind looking out for her and getting hurt or killed in the process, but she minded.
When the last patient left her office, Riley made her way to the upper deck to get some fresh air. Looking out over the sea and lost in thought, she almost didn’t notice when Shanks came up beside her.
"Berry for your thoughts?" He said, grabbing her attention. Riley looked at him, then back to the sea.
"The guys got their asses kicked today," she said quietly.
"Eh, we win some, we lose some," Shanks replied with a shrug. "There were no casualties, and I consider that a win in itself. Just means we gotta get stronger."
"Shanks…” Riley began, unsure of how to continue. How would he react? She had known Shanks for several years at this point, but a request like this, from subordinate to captain, was uncharted territory. And she knew that of all the people on the crew, Shanks felt perhaps the most protective of her. She looked up to meet his gaze. “I want to get stronger too. I want to learn how to fight."
Shanks almost let out a laugh, but the look on her face stopped him. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly,” she replied, echoing the words he had spoken to her a long time ago.
Shanks sighed. "Riley, you don't need to learn how to fight. You have fifty-nine men who would die for you without question."
"See, that's the thing," she shot back, "I don't want anyone to die for me. Beck got shot defending me, Shanks, the bullet missed his kidney by less than an inch. If it had been any worse I don't know if I could save him without getting him to a hospital. I hate seeing you guys get beaten up taking care of me."
"None of us mind, Riley, we–"
"It doesn't matter if you don't mind. I mind. I want to be able to defend myself, and you, and everyone else on this ship. I want to be able to hold my own with the rest of the crew. Please."
Shanks looked at her, and could see the desperation in her eyes. She'd make a good fighter, sure. She was lithe, and fast, and with some work he was positive she could effectively wield any number of weapons. But allowing her to fight meant allowing her to be in danger, more so than she already was, anyway. He couldn't risk that.
"The answer is no, Riley. I'm sorry, I won’t sign off on this."
"Shanks…"
"Your safety is my priority, Rye. I'm not gonna allow you to be in any more danger than you already are." With that, he turned and walked away, hoping it would be the last he'd hear of the matter.
For Riley's part, she could be as stubborn and persistent as her captain. She didn't stop bringing it up every so often, careful not to push him, but making sure he knew how she felt. If she had to out-stubborn Shanks, it would be hard, but she'd have to try.
Previous - Chapter 2: Conditions and Compromise
Next - Chapter 4: Rescue and Reconciliation
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antiquorumanimarum · 5 months
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@confluxium asked:
The soft glow of a desk lamp illuminated a spread of travel brochures and maps, two friends sat huddled together, deep in conversation. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement as they discussed their dream vacation, painting a vivid picture of an escape from the mundane into a world of endless possibilities. Ares leafed through a glossy travel magazine with a grin plastered across his face. "I can already picture it, Achaeus. A tropical paradise with crystal-clear waters, palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze, and the sun kissing our skin. What do you think about the Epidamnos?" In spite of how engaged he was in the conversation, Ares couldn't shake the heavy weight on his heart. He knew something his friend didn't—a secret that cast a somber shadow over their plans. Nevertheless, he played along, eager not to dampen Achaeus' spirits. "It's a perfect choice, see! You ought to see the world beyond Amaurot's and Elpis' halls. I can already feel the warm sand between my toes," he added forcing a smile that concealed the underlying truth. He couldn't help but marvel at the bittersweet irony of the situation. The final days were fast approaching. Despite this impending fate, he decided to keep the truth to himself, for what good will it do to let them know? The travel plans became increasingly elaborate, with him delving more into the minutiae of their adventure. They debated the best time to go, the activities they would indulge in, and even the local cuisine they couldn't wait to savor. His enthusiasm masked the underlying sadness that gnawed at him, knowing that these dreams would remain just that—dreams.
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To think - he would be leaving Elpis and to somewhere he had never seen before; the very excitement that thrummed within his chest was near palpable within the air surrounding, sensations akin to the gentle buzz of electricity just beneath his skin.
Never had he dreamed of going further than the isle he worked and lived upon; his infrequent visits to the city as far as he had ever travelled - - but always had the wonder of the world pulled at him, always had he wished he could see more of its beauty. Never, however, had he thought he would ever actually go.
He's leaned into Ares' side, unable to tear his eyes away from the beauty of the brochure before him; such vivid descriptions of places he knew not existed span within his consciousness, imagination able to draw forth pictures and presumptions to match and he could only wonder just how accurate they would be once he finally set foot there to see for himself.
"It almost sounds as if it was plucked from a dream, in and of itself." He's smiling, genuinely; a light briefly within his eyes. He wondered if he ever would want to return home from a place so... welcoming and perfect; and for a moment, he closes his eyes and tries to imagine the sound of the crashing waves, the feeling of such warmth upon his skin, the sensation of sand beneath his feet and the wonderful company of his companion.
But he opens them just in time to catch the tail end of a smile from Ares that set a strange feeling into his stomach; something was off about it and though he couldn't quite place what, it only added to the anxieties in which he had been feeling of late.
It becomes forgotten, for the time being - so wrapped up in plans and excitement, Achaeus forgets his worries and anxieties for a time. He would be able to contemplate them later, sink into that darkness when he was alone so no other could see the vicious weight he carried within his soul. And afterwards, when he felt bleak and without hope, he would attempt to sleep where visions of fire and great suffering would haunt him.
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"It'll be sensational." He finally whispers, knowing now that he had something to look forward to, something to cling to when all else seemed dark and overwhelming. "I cannot wait to go with you." How strange it felt, to have hope nestle within his chest; but oh, he would nurture it as often as he could, allow it to grow until that fateful day arrived.
In his excitement, he wraps an arm around his company's waist and smiles - nigh beams - toward the brochure; "We'll make it the very best adventure."
But still, that odd feeling within his stomach never alleviated.
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animalartist18 · 1 year
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I can’t believe that Puss in Boots got time to write good story of mine that are better than the others that I’ve done so far and everyone seemed to like it because I’ve got nearly 500 kudos and if I get them I might try and do something great like my own cover as I’m hoping anyone would take part to have fun but I’ve got so many things that I thought people would take part is hard to choose…
But anyway, your drawings of my story and the others are still amazing as always but I can school and college homework can drag you down and you just want to do your stuff instead of others…
But anyway again, chapter 24 will be the best dream sequel number three like I did the two of them and I know everyone know what’s going on but they want to know if it’s true.
The reason why I wrote in a long inbox because I saw the others talking about Jack Horner, anyways he is not a good boy because all he ever wanted is the control powers and rule the world which is kind of pointless because he ain’t strong enough. And I’m glad that death did take him down at the Wising Star while Puss had been spared.
Have you read the new chapter from The Tune He Whistle? It’s absolutely more bittersweet and I’m praying that Puss and Death would have the moment at chapter 18.
Don’t know what to say except I can’t wait to see the new post!
Xx
Wow, first of all congratulations about your story,it is really beautiful and deserves all the recognition it can get☺️❤️ and i'm sure that some day you'll be able to make your own cover,and I can't wait to see it😁
Secondly,thank you for your kind words,and i truly appreciate that you understand that my responsibilities as a college student can keep me from doing what i love,but you should know that i really love recieving requests from others,i don't have a problem with that^^ i mean as long as they don't put any pressure on me lol ( But yes,i won't lie, sometimes I want to do my own stuff😅 i mean, don't we all? 😆)
Now for 'The tune he Whistles' fanfiction, if a new chapter is out then i haven't read it yet,but i will as soon as i'm done from here,but thank you for letting me know 😊 it is ONE of my MOST favourite fanfictions!😍😍😍 I can't wait to see a sweet moment between Puss and Death either, they're just so cute together!🥰🥰🥰
And don't worry, no matter how busy my schedule is,and even without my motivation i'll make sure to post something good, if not tonight then tomorrow ^^ i don't know what it will be just yet,but i hope you will like it😊 Thank you so much for your question,i did my best to answer all of that😄 Love to you all, you guys!🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️❤️❤️
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bxldrsdraumar · 7 months
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He could remember the first time he saw an Emblem, he was shocked. To know someone resided inside a ring... that for a human felt like fiction, yet he saw it with his two eyes over and over again.
The sensation Alfred first felt when he put on the ring of the holy knight was one that would never leave his chest, the surge of power that rushed through his veins and when they Engaged? It felt as if his body was no longer frail, the first time he wished to stay like this for just a little longer but ultimately knew that if he wanted strength, he wished to build it himself even if other's helped him. To take it from someone else, to use their strength, that didn't fix how weak he was in his core.
But those thoughts scattered like petals when he stood in front of said knight that had aided him and his friends countless of times. Emblem Sigurd had left this world, he saw it with his own two eyes, yet... here he was standing as if nothing had happened. "...It's good to see you," He mumbled low, more towards himself than the person he wished to speak to.
No, this couldn't be the Sigurd he knew, not only he wasn't floating but he clearly could be touched. And that was when Alfred remembered that Emblems shared name, voice, stories, appearance with people that had already existed, and it sends a bittersweet sensation in his heart—to see the face of a friend but for it to not be them, how unfair it was for this Sigurd to in this moment live in Alfred's heart as a shadow of someone the knight didn't even know.
But the prince kept those feelings to himself, a smile—one he tried to make seem as sweet as he could rather than sad—on his lips but his hand still reached towards him. "Hello there!" He said with a vibrant tone. "My name's Alfred, it is great to meet you." Sir Sigurd, the holy knight.
It was a funny thing to become accustomed, being recognized everywhere he went. Even in his own home of Chalphy there had been some small degree on anonymity - merely some lord or another, merely some knight - but here at Garreg Mach, Sigurd had grown to learn what it looked like as recognition beamed bright as the sun while he smiled politely and waited for his own understanding to dawn.
In most cases it happened with knights, professors, a draw to them that held them as distinctly Jugdral, distinctly countrymen or those whom he had shared arms and tales with under a broad night sky beside a cookfire. Fewer, with children - children of Grannvale, or Thracia, or Agustria as the progeny of his closest companions found themselves drawn to him in their due course.
And others that knew him only by name, a portrait printed in a history textbook, and that fame he found he'd the hardest time shouldering.
But there were times other still that straddled the line in between, of intimacy and familiarity, but also of distant legend.
He'd seen it in the deaconess, in the king professor, and he saw it now in the smile of the young man before him.
Sigurd grasped the boy's - Alfred's - hand, gripped it firmly and smiled warm in kind. "It is a delight to make your acquaintance, Alfred, lad. I look forward to seeing your growth in these halls. You've the makings of a fine knight, if I've ever seen one."
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