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sfehvn · 6 months

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new religion part 2

Description: AU- Things have gone too far between you and Astarion and he's not sure he'd ever be able to give you what you truly want. Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 1,804 Characters: soft!ascended!Astarion x fem!au!Tav

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Luxurious fur blessed your fingertips, stroking absently at the feline across your lap. You hummed a sweet tune as you continued your project. Astarion had the finest oil paints in Faerûn imported to nourish your new hobby. Looking at the canvas, well, it was very much a mess of colors. So much so that he would not have been able to make out what the picture was intended to be if he had not known. He would praise you all the same regardless. As a token of thanks, you had requested he sit for you in the garden while you paint him.

“You will be the first to have an original Tav piece. You can show it off when I’m a famous painter.” You joked as he assisted with setting up the easel.

The kitten that purred against your touch was also a gift. One comment was made about how you had always wanted a cat but never had the room for one; it was just another opportunity to shower you with all of the gifts you had so deserved. The joy on your face when he presented you with the tiny feline made his heart swoon. Astarion would admit he had yet to think that offering through, though. When you were not present, which was most of the time, he had to care for the wretched little thing. His feigned attitude towards the kitten, which you had so ominously named Georgie, was a facade. He had grown to find comfort in the furball curling up to him in bed in your absence. He even caught himself cooing to the blasted little creature on occasion.

Astarion sat in the wrought iron chair across from you, a forgotten book propped open on his forearm as he admired the tenacity on your face, tongue jutting ever-so-slightly from between succulent lips as you struggled to work with the paints. How could you be so blissfully oblivious to the beauty you are? He wondered, his head resting in the palm of his unoccupied hand. He had a burning fire in his chest, demanding he show you not only your beauty but that you deserved much more than the small cottage you shared with seven other occupants. Your rightful position was right next to him in his palace. You deserved to have everybody else waiting at your beck and call, not the other way around. You insisted you could not leave your family, nevertheless.

“Stay here with me. I promise I’ll make it worth your while, my pet.” The two of you lay bare, entangled in silk sheets and each other’s arms. Astarion stroked the delicate pink skin of your cheek with the careful tips of his fingers, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. His words caused you to let out an amused giggle at his bequest. His eyebrows knitted together, and a slight frown played at the edges of his lips. He was serious.

Your smile dropped, and an apologetic look graced your features. “Oh, Astarion.” You sighed wistfully. “I just can’t. Not right now. Papa’s not doing well; I can’t just abandon him. Lillian needs a lot of guidance at this time, and with Alan having just moved into his own home now that he’s married, there’s no one to take care of our younger sisters.” You sputtered out. Astarion noted the stress that marred your face and decided to drop the matter for now.

“Sh, my treasure.” He coaxed, pulling your head into his chest. “We can address it later.”

Astarion pondered on when he had gone so soft, for lack of better words. Before you, there was no hesitation to steal what he wanted. Much easier it would have been to just bite you, keeping you to himself for all of eternity. He had thought about it when the disdain of being apart grew too great. This was after you, though. You had brought a bright light into his world of darkness, and he knew you would never be the same if he made such a decision on your behalf.

Guilt regularly gnawed at a conscious he wasn’t even aware he’d had. He still hadn’t found the courage to tell you of his true nature. You often called the raised tissue on his neck his vampire bite, and he’d always panic at the joke, wondering if he’d been found out. Inwardly, of course, he ensured he remained calm and collected on appearance. Soon, he told himself. He’d let you enjoy the normalcy of your current relationship for just a while longer.

Your groan fractured him from his thoughts. “Okay, it’s actually terrible. Please don’t laugh at me.” You pouted.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.” Astarion assured, setting his book down on the table before him, pushing back his chair, and standing up. He bent down to get a better look at the canvas. “My, that’s a beautifully eclectic rendition of yours truly.” He hums, resting his hands on your shoulders, squeezing in encouragement. He meant it. It was something you had created; of course he would love it.

“Okay, you are officially the biggest liar I know.” You grinned, patting his hand softly as he shifted away. Georgie stretched in your lap. You placed him down, smiling as he hurried away into the open door of the manor.

“Your words wound me.” He holds his hands to his chest dramatically. “I’ll display it in the foyer.” His finger reaches to tap the tip of your nose playfully.

“I guess it must truly be Astarion approved then.” You hummed, recalling how tumultuous he had acted when replacing the art in his foyer. It must be perfect, he had said; first impressions are everything, my dear. “I don’t think your guests would be in agreeance with you.” At this point, you had stood on your tip-toes, planting a sweet kiss on his lips.

He dismissed your presumption with a wave of his hand. “Nonsense, my love. You question my tastes? When I’ve got you on my arm? I’ve already won.” His index finger taps the underside of your chin, encouraging your mouth to his. You oblige, and Astarion lets out a delighted laugh against your lips. He would never grow tired of how easily you unraveled for him and him only. Without breaking contact, he reaches down to grip the backs of your thighs, lifting you from the ground and setting you on the garden table.

Your breathing hitched as his hands wrought at the bottom of your dress, pushing the hem up until it pooled around your waist. His fingers brushed your mound over already-soaked underwear. He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “So ready for me already, pet? I’ve barely touched you.” Spoken like a purr, causing goosebumps to bloom over your skin. He buried his nose into your neck and breathed your scent in deeply. Chamomile and lavender had become distinctively you. His eyes close as your fingers tread over his scalp, hooking into his hair. “Keep touching me like that, treasure. I’ll fuck you right here.”

“Please. It’s been too long.” You murmur. It had indeed, he thought. This was your first day together after being apart for ten long, agonizing days. His fingers push your underwear to the side, the tips hardly swiping over your drenched core. The contact motivated your body further against him. Your breasts pressed to his firm chest, and he brought his unoccupied hand to sit atop them, thumb stroking delicious skin.

Greedy hands moved to the front of his trousers and at the feeling of his bulge, you ached to feel him inside of you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and tenderly pushed your hands away. Your expression was one of rejection that panged Astarion’s undead heart, but his demeanor was one of significance. He took your hands in his as he stared deeply into your eyes. “Stay with me, Tav. The manor has never been this airy without you. I mean- I understand you have responsibilities you believe are your own, but I could give you everything.”

With a furrowed brow, you sluggishly pull away from him. “These responsibilities are my own. This is my family, Astarion.” You pursed your lips, looking everywhere but at the man before you.

“Pet, don’t be silly. They are holding you back. I recognize you love them, but you cannot put your needs on hold to protect them forever.” He reaches out to brush the hair from your face, but you quickly dodge the touch, pressing him aside so you can stand from your position on the table. His jaw clenches in annoyance, but he allows you your space.

“So, what? My father will be buried beside my mother soon, and you are so selfish that you can’t even give me the grace to spend his last days with him.” He had never seen the fire on your face; your usual demeanor dissolved.

Astarion’s jaw slackens, and he shakes his head in response. “I’m just thinking big picture. Where will your sisters go when the time comes, Tav? Are you to give your entire life to them? How is it fair to you?”

“If that is what must be done, then so be it.” Astarion noted how heavy your chest heaved, your body shaking from anger. You were angry with him.

“And what of me?” He was mindful of how needy and, as you said, selfish he sounded but couldn’t hold back. “What do you want with me if not forever?” Indeed, you couldn’t expect him to house the entire cavalry that was your family.

You froze and gulped in a large breath to calm your nerves. Maybe you have been negligent of his feelings as things grew more serious between you two. “I want you, Astarion. I want everything with you. I want to take your last name. I want to bear your children. I want to care for you until we’re both old and gray.” There’s a crack in your voice as you stifle back tears. Astarion’s stare softens, his stomach plunging at the knowledge of only ever being able to gift you one of those things. “I’ve always dreamt of creating a family of my own. Of being a mother to children created with the man I love.” You pause to swipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “But I can’t leave my sisters to fend for themselves. I won’t.”

Astarion observes you as you collect your shawl, exiting the garden without another word. He’d let things go too far. He’d led you to believe this future you dreamed of could be achieved with him and even encouraged the delusions in his own way. Perhaps you would be better off if this relationship came to a close.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #ascended astarion #ascended!astarion x reader #ascended!astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 #x reader #tav #reader

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emotionaldisaster909 · 6 months

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Hi! I discovered "a long and slow recovery" thanks to your art, and let me say, I will never be over it. I loved it so much I was wondering if you had any other hualian fanfic recommendations?

Hello!!! Oh I’m sorry for such a late reply, but thank you so much for asking!!!

I’m thrilled to share with you and everyone my pride and joy, my precious, handpicked treasure hoard:

✨My TGCF bookmarks ✨

More than 200, all of them hualian

Besides ALASR, my beloved, mwah, here are some of my

Absolute favourites:

1. The bestest of them all, Mt. Taincang reunion postcanon fic that i consider my personal canon

“and I will surround you with a love too deep for words”

2. The best huge-ass slow-burn modern AU in the best Hua Cheng POV

“possibly, maybe”

3. The most heartbreakingly adorable de-aging memory loss Hong-er fic

“Little Red”

4. Absolutely amazing modern au where trans!Xie Lian decides to start a family with Hua Cheng, literally brought me to tears ,-,

“Orchids in Bloom”

5. The best vampire!Hua Cheng canonverse fic I’ve ever dreamed of, literally all I need

“Sweeter than Wine”

6. A different take on the reunion, my close second favourite first time fic, so soft and tender y-u

“Ever After”

7. THE bottom Hua Cheng fic ever, no words, just READ IT

“desire”

8. THE bottom WU MING! Fic ever, oh my god it’s so freaking good

“Let me be devoted, let me be greedy”

9. And this. Oh god. I have FEELINGS about this one. An awesome concept modern-AU fic that blew my mind

“We Stan Scrap Gege!”

10. This pure genius of Human by day/Animal by night AU by the same author

“At Night I Rose and Fell”

11. And THIS. Oh fuck. It’s huge. It’s awesome. It’s different first meeting, slow-burn, hidden identity, it’s

“’Til our compass stands still”

12. And this ohmygod this is one, omg, small, but the best reincarnation au, I’m crying

“reaching for heaven is what i'm on earth to do”

13. Aand this is the SECOND best reincarnation au from the same author i’m sorry I just have to include

“and the rain won't make any difference”

Aaand by now this list might become too long, so I just must separate some of my

Favourite authors:

Boomchick, Linisen, Natterina, Saenda, miska_za, debwriting, citronverveine, corduroyserpent, demihualian

Practically every fic by them is my favourite, but god, there are so much more, they all deserve recognition, so, if my taste is to your liking, ask away for more hualian fic recs!!!

THANK YOU AGAIN!

You’re very very welcome! 💖🌿

#heaven officials blessing #tian guan ci fu #tgcf #tgcf fic #tgcf fics #tgcf fic rec #hualian #hualian fic #hualian fics #hualian fic rec #xie lian #hua cheng #tgcf fandom #天官赐福 #花怜

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freyyzu · 11 months

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SEE YOU AGAIN SOON

it's finally the day of your depature, and you decide to leave baxter with one last memory to hold onto until you can see each other again.

a/n; i'm so head over heels in love with this monochrome man i feel like my heart's gonna burst. thank you so much for the amazing game and loving memories, gb patch i'm going to treasure Our Life always

“Is this everything?” You’ve heard that question no less than three times now since leaving Baxter’s apartment. Once, when he closed the door, twice, when you exited the car, and now for a third time as you’re at the station waiting for the train to arrive.

“I should hope so, otherwise one of my belongings is lost within the depths of your apartment now,” you tease good heartedly.

“Hm,” his concerned frown is quickly replaced by a grin. “Maybe I should hope you did leave something behind, then. It would give me an excuse to bring it to you.”

The both of you share a hearty laugh at that. You hadn’t even been parted yet, but here he was already thinking of making his way back to you.

Well, you did agree to have him come over soon after the hectic rush-planning that was Jude and Scott’s wedding, and the five days that you had spent here wasn’t enough to make up for the five years of no contact. There was going to be a lot to catch up on, and a part of you hoped that you’d always have something to catch up on with each other. That there was always going to be something new to learn about one another—together.

“We’ll call,” you reassure him. His shoulders visibly untense at your words, a softer smile adorning his lips. “And text, the days before you arrive will be over before we both know it.”

Baxter reaches out to take your hand, no pauses, no falters. “Then I look forward to that day with bated breath.”

Your eyes crinkle at the edges, and despite him being the one who took hold of your hand first you decide to turn it around on him—literally. Flipping your clasped hands, you bring it up to your lips in a gentle kiss, his bright, brown eyes following the motion as goosebumps chill their way down his arm.

“Why don’t we take a picture together?”

The sudden question catches him off-guard. “A picture?”

“The frame on your desk was empty last time I saw it, right?”

“Ah,” he looks abashed at that. Even though you had gifted him a picture frame, Baxter had never been able to actually use it for its intended purpose. “You noticed that as well, huh?”

You swallow the words at how it’s a bit difficult not to notice something like that. “What do you say?”

There was simply never a moment precious enough in his life to capture in time until you showed up again, and since your arrival every day felt special enough to be caught in the moment. Now with that offer laid bare in front of him, there was no way he was going to let it go. “I’d say that’s a great idea.”

Setting your bags on the nearest chair, Baxter pulls out his phone and you shimmy closer to his side, his arm reaching out to wrap around your waist almost instinctively. It felt a bit embarrassing, using the selfie function of his phone; he couldn’t remember the last time he ever did if ever.

Though far past his embarrassment was the joy of being able to see your face every day whenever he so wished, even if you weren’t there in person.

The shutter goes off, and at the same time he feels a soft press into his cheek.

The motion catches him by surprise, the only word able to leave the tip of his tongue being, “huh?” followed by your chuckles.

His eyes glance down at his phone, the picture displaying all its glory to you and him. He sports a startled look, the tips of his ears forming the faintest red and of course you’re leaning in, your lips pressed against his cheek with a smile.

“It looks good,” you comment cheerfully, either not noticing or feigning ignorance to the way his entire face has lit up in a bright, strawberry red. “Don’t you think?”

“I-” he catches the same tint of red dusting the edge of your cheeks. No doubt that action had been a spur of the moment decision on your part, rather than a well-thoughtout plan, though at this point he can’t say he’s surprised—if the last-minute party plannings were anything to go by.

An affectionate sigh leaves him, and he leans in, following the bubbling warmth in his chest, hand gently cradling your cheek as he pulls you into a kiss. A proper one, where both of your lips touch and your eyes flutter close, blocking the entire world around you.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers playing with the ends of his hair, and he nearly melts at the tender motion of your hands. Baxter’s spent the last five days wondering how he could be so lucky. To reunite with his ideal, the person he fell for, the one he loved—loves—from all those years ago and how even after a long five years you still haven’t forgotten, haven’t given up on him.

“Baxter?” Every part of you, from the color of your eyes, to your kind, patient personality, to your hands that treat him like he’s glass, to your voice that calls his name with so much warmth.

At one point, the kiss had broken and he bumped his forehead with yours. He couldn’t tell you not to leave, even when every fiber of his being wished for you to just stay by his side, and so he swallows those words. This is enough for now, these five days, the next five years. You’ll make it work.

“I love you.” From this close of proximity, the breath that follow his words flutter your eyelashes. His hand doesn’t move from your cheek, but his thumb begins to rub timidly along your skin, as if afraid you’ll back off if he did any more.

Your eyes gloss over at those three simple words. He was really going to make it hard to leave wasn’t he? Even though you were the one who had been trying to keep it together this entire time. “I love you, too,” you whisper, leaning in for another kiss.

If time stopped there, neither of you would have minded, but it doesn’t, and soon the ring of the train bells force both of you to pull away.

“I should get going,” you mutter with less resolve than before.

“I’ll walk with you to the doors.” Baxter picks up half of your bags again, motioning towards your ride with his head. He looks just as, if not more, insulted than you at the interruption.

“Thank you.”

The walk was short and quiet, there were a million and one things you could have said, but chose not to. They could wait until you met up again. And everyone knows that there was no one more patient than you around here. You’ve waited this long, you could wait a little more.

“I’ll see you in a bit?” Baxter passes your bags over to you. It’s unsure of exactly how long ‘a bit’ actually refers to, but you’ll get your answer eventually.

“Definitely,” you reply. “I’ll see you again soon, Baxter.”

He leans in for the last time, and you’re almost sure he was going to kiss your lips again, but he falters at the last second and moves upwards to press his lips against your forehead instead.

“I feel like if I kiss you now I’d never stop,” he chuckles in jest, though you can hear the full sincerity in those words. “I’ll see you again soon, darling.”

‘Darling’ that was a pet name you’d have to get used to unless you fear for your poor heart exploding.

You give him one last kiss of your own, also on the forehead—he hums contently at the action—before pulling back; the train doors beginning to close.

And when the train finally takes off, and your waves weren’t within sight anymore, Baxter finds himself crumpling to the floor in a heap.

It’s a question he’s asked himself multiple times, more times than you’d call appropriate, but was he allowed to be this happy? A hand goes up to his forehead where your lips had just been, and he allows himself to bask in the feeling.

‘It’s alright.’ He was allowed to be this happy.

A ping from his phone pulls him out of his thoughts, and he grumbles at the interruption. He pulls out the device with a less-than-appropriate mumble though stops completely when he sees who it’s from.

[ could you send me that picture, please?

i’d like to have a memory of us as well. ]

[ Of course. ]

Comes his instantaneous response.

He sends you the photo immediately, and his eyes linger on it for just as long as it takes for you to reply back.

[ thanks! i’ll treasure it ]

Yeah, he is allowed to be this happy.

With you.

And he hopes with his entire heart that you feel the same.

[ As will I. ]

#Our Life #Our Life: Beginning and Always #Baxter Ward #Baxter Ward x Reader #Baxter Ward x MC #i was smiling so much through his whole dlc i gave myself a headache #i genuinely can't put into words how much i adore this game #the characters #and how much i'll miss it #thank you for all the adventures #and i look forward to Now and Forever in the future!

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jennay · 7 months

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Mine

Request: So I have an idea for a fluffy fic? Where reader and Noah are best friends and reader flies out and surprises Noah on tour at a show. He sees the reader standing in the side wings of the stage while performing and he gets so happy! After the show maybe they confess feelings? Or whatever you think!! Love your writing 💕 💕

An: I nearly died from fluff. Thank you for the request💜

Noah stuuuuffff

Words: 3k I think

Now warnings just a lot of feelings.

“How did you-“ Bryan looks at you with pure confusion, his eyes wide and mouth open. He quickly recovers and smiles, “Our security needs upgrading.” He laughs knowingly and clicks the camera in front of your face. “Memories!” He says in a mock-serious tone as if he is documenting a historic moment.

You laugh as you pretend to swat the camera from your face.

“Hey, don’t give him any reason to look over here.” You whisper to Bryan, pointing at Noah, who is on the stage, talking to the crowd. “He doesn’t know I came.” You say with a sneaky smile.

Bryan nods as he heads back to the stage, “You got it!” He says, giving you a wink. He hurries away from you, and you watch as he follows Noah around while he talks to the crowd.

Noah’s voice fills the air, confident and charismatic, as he riles the crowd with his witty banter and infectious energy.

You stand in awe, listening to the music and singing along to his songs.

Jolly is entertaining to watch while he bounces around and plays his guitar. Nicholas is calm and relaxed, staying in his spot and grooving with his bass. Folio is a beast on the drums, pounding away with so much energy that you wonder how he does it.

You feel pride and admiration for them, especially for Noah, your best friend. You know how hard he’s worked to get here.

You also know how hard it has been for him to be away from home, touring the world and living his dream.

He confided in you last week when you talked on the phone that he was feeling anxious and homesick. He said he missed you and that it was weird to be separated from you for so long. You felt the same way. You two have been inseparable since you were kids, growing up together and sharing everything. You have always supported and cheered him on, even when others doubted him or tried to bring him down.

You’ve seen him grow from a shy boy with a big dream to a superstar with a loyal fanbase. And yet, he has never changed who he is.

He is still the same Noah you know and love, the one who makes you laugh, who listens to you, who cares about you, who is going to be surprised whenever he decides to notice you standing off to the side of the stage.

You lock eyes with Nicholas as he turns around during the song, and you wave at him with a smile.

He looks happy to see you, and he quickly makes his way to Noah, who is still singing his heart out. He lightly bumps Noah on the shoulder and gestures towards you, hoping to surprise him.

Noah’s brown eyes sparkled like polished gems as he caught sight of you. His smile is radiant, spreading across his face like a sunbeam. He looks overjoyed, as if he had just found the most precious treasure in the world. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, and an intense glow filled your heart, warming your entire body.

The song ends, and he waves you over, asking you to stand with him. “Stop hiding!” He says over the mic. “C’mon, I want to introduce you to the family!” He says, showcasing the crowd.

You shake your head and mouth the word no. You’re so incredibly proud of him and happy he wants everyone to know who you are, but you prefer to stay in the shadows where you could watch him shine.

“Awe,” He coos over the mic. “You’re adorable when you're shy!” He smiles goofily and turns back to the crowd, “That’s (y/n)!” He pauses, pacing the stage. “She’s one of the reasons I made it this far..” He returns the mic to his side, smiling like a child as the crowd cheers at his words. “She was there when we were just kids, pushing me towards my dreams and not letting me give up.” He turns back towards you, “Kicking me in the ass when I wasn’t motivated.” He beams, love, filling his brown iris as he thinks of your encouragement. “Reminding me that if I was going to be a high school dropout, this was my only other choice.”

You cover your eyes with your hand, lightly giggling, thankful he’s giving you credit but also dying from the attention. “It's all you!” You say to him even though he can’t hear you.

“If you’d come here, I could probably hear what you said.” He challenges you, and with great hesitation, you finally give in to him.

You make your way to the center of the stage, feeling Jolly’s playful laughter as he sees you taking deep breaths and fidgeting with your hands.

“There she is,” Noah says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and drawing you near despite his damp skin. “Now, what did you say?” He asks, putting the microphone to your lips. “I said it’s all you. I had nothing to do with it.” You glance at Bryan, who is snapping more photos of this moment.

You’re unaware of it, but Bryan has snapped a photo of the exact moment when you and Noah realize that there is more than friendship between you.

He gazes down at you while you look up at him with wonder. A blush spreads, and you want to escape from the stage. Your heart beats faster, and your stomach feels queasy.

You slowly break free from his hug, smiling as you wave to the crowd and walk away. You feel awkward, but you know it would only get worse if you stayed in front of all those eyes.

Nicholas gives you a knowing smile as if he can read your mind.

You shake off the feelings and head to the back of the stage. You hear Noah talking about the last song they’re going to play. You walk down the side stage, heading to the stairs.

Your heart is still pounding in your chest. What is this feeling? “Not Noah,” You whisper, trying to push the thoughts out of your head. You walk toward the tour bus, trying to catch your breath. “Come on!” You exclaim, looking up at the sky. “Why now? We had over ten years to do this. What the fuck!”

You sit outside the bus on a bench, knowing the bus is locked. You pull out your phone and call your friend Isabelle.

“Hey!” She answers, “How was your flight?”

Sighing, you lean back, “I’m in love with Noah.” You blurt out.

You hear her soft laughter on the other as she asks, “What!?”

“Yeah, uh. Fuck.” You quietly say.

“You’ve literally been fightening me for the last two years about this, and now that I’m convinced there’s nothing, there’s something!?” She laughs again, “Well, spill it. What’re you going to do? Gonna romance him or just be weird and avoid him?”

You stand up and walk around the grassy area, trying to gather your thoughts. “Just go back to the hotel and avoid him at all costs.” You roll your eyes at your idea. “I’m walking back to the car right now. I think I can just sneak away before they get here.”

When you reach your car, you unlock the door and pop into the driver's seat. You set your phone down and allow it to connect to the Bluetooth.

“Well, I think that’s a shit idea, but you do whatever.” She laughs, “Avoiding Noah like he’s a plague will make it worse for you. I’ve seen you’re separation anxiety.” She teases, “Just talk to him. It’s not like he’s this big, scary guy. You constantly make fun of him for being so soft, and now you’re acting like he’s so hard to talk to.”

You hesitate, torn between going to the hotel and facing Noah, but you’re afraid of what he might say or do if he finds out how you feel.

“Are you driving, seriously? You’re leaving.” She squeals with annoyance. “Oh my god. I should’ve come. I knew it.”

“Look, I just, I need a minute to collect my fucking thoughts. This came as kind of a shock to me.” You drive as fast as possible to get to the hotel, and your stomach threatens to release any content.

“I don’t know how this came as a surprise.” Isabelle’s voice is full of disbelief, “There’s a reason this shit happens in the movies. I’m sorry if I’m making it worse, but your turning into a walking cliche.”

Frustrated, you groan at the idea of your life situation being as dramatic as the movies. “I gotta go. I just got to the hotel.”

You click the end button without giving her a chance to respond. Isabelle was right, though. Noah wasn’t difficult to talk to. You were making this a bigger deal than necessary, but it didn’t stop you from feeling nervous.

Annoyance bubbles up inside you when you hear your text tone go off. Was she really texting you already!?

Hey, sorry if I was too much. I don’t know if I pissed you off, um. I was hoping we’d have some time to hang out.

You stare down at your phone, debating if you should call or text. You can’t call Noah. He’ll know some things up.

Sorry! All is good; I just felt a little gross and went back to the hotel. You nervously bite your lip and send another text. Wanna come over, or can I meet you somewhere? I’m not really in the mood to hang out with everyone.

You wait for a response, a million things racing through your mind as you wonder what you would say to him. I think we need to talk…

Send me the address. I’ll be there shortly.

You hear a knock on the hotel door, and your heart skips. He’s here already. You wish you had more time to prepare yourself for this moment. You get up from the chair and walk towards the door, feeling nervous and excited. You unlock it and open it slightly, meeting Noah’s bright smile and sparkling eyes. You open the door wider and invite him in, trying to act casual. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“Hey.” He says, “Everything ok?” He walks around the small room and sits on the edge of the bed. He looks at you with concern as you stand by the door, frozen and unable to move.

“What’s going on with you?” He asks, his voice gentle and curious.

“I’m scared.” You say, walking over to him slowly.

His brown eyes are full of warmth and worry, his lips slightly parted, and his hair tousled from pushing it out of his face so many times. You’re afraid of what he might say, what he might do, what he might think of you.

“Wanna elaborate?” He says, his tone changing to protective. His eyebrows furrow, and his jaw clenches. “Did something happen? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?” He asks, ready to defend you from any harm.

You shake your head and plop beside him, trying to act calm. But inside, you feel like you’re about to faint.

You know he can sense something is wrong, something is different. He’s seen you through your ups and downs, highs and lows. He’s been your best friend for years, your confidant, your partner in crime.

He knows you better than anyone else. And that’s why this is so hard. His eyes watch you, scanning for any clues to the situation. He grows more worried and concerned.

The last time he saw you acting like this, it had something to do with your ex-boyfriend, who cheated on you and broke your heart. And if it had anything to do with him again, Noah would make sure he paid for it.

He hated seeing you hurt; he hated seeing you cry. He wanted to make you happy, and he wanted to make you smile.

You bite your lip, thinking of something to say to him. You know what you want to say, but getting yourself to do it is nearly impossible. But you can’t keep this inside anymore. You need to tell him the truth, and you need to take a risk.

You take a deep breath, building courage and preparing for rejection. “I need to tell you something,” You say softly, looking into his eyes. “And I need to know that no matter what I say, we’re gonna be ok.”

He nods his head, “We’re gonna fine.” His arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you to his chest, resting his chin on your head, and running his hand up and down your arm, “You can’t get rid of me.” He reminds you.

You nuzzle your face closer to his chest and mumble a few inaudible words against his body.

You feel his chest move as he chuckles and gently pulls away from you, looking down at you, tilting your chin to look at him. “You did that on purpose.”

“But technically, I said what I needed to.” You say, flashing a smile.

“It doesn’t count if I can’t hear it.” He gives you a second to sit up and regain your composure. “C’mon, it’s me. Just say what you need to say.”

“Ok, fine!” You stand up, towering over him. You put your hands on his shoulders and look directly at him. “I said I have feelings for you, and it’s ruining my life!” You fling your hands up in the air and put a considerable distance in front of the two of you. You’re eyes wander around the room, trying to avoid looking at him. “And I know you don’t feel that way, and that’s fine, but I needed to say it and get it out there. Like, I get if you don’t want to talk anymore, I’m not anything special, and you could have whatever you want and-“

He stands up quickly and grabs your hands, stopping your rambling. A smile plastered on lips as he brought his hands to your face. “Dude,” He lightly laughs, “You’re wrong.”

You exhale deeply, still stuck in his gaze, “What?” You ask.

He wraps you in a tight embrace, and you hardly register what’s going on. Slowly, your hands come up to his waist and wrap around him, feeling relief that he didn’t walk out the door.

“You’re wrong.“ He steps back, his hands resting on your shoulders. “I’ve had a thing for you since middle school. I just thought you deserved better than me. There was no way you could fall for me. I’ve seen the guys you date.”

You stare at him in disbelief, your mouth hanging open. “You’re kidding, right?” You say, incredulous. “You’ve had a thing for me since middle school? How did I not know that? How did you not tell me that?” You feel a scale of emotions, from shock to confusion to happiness.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. He’s been in love with you for years, and you’ve been oblivious to it.

You’ve wasted so much time dating jerks who didn’t appreciate you when the one who did was right in front of you all along.

He smiles sheepishly, his eyes crinkling. “I guess I was too scared to ruin our friendship. You’re my best friend, you know that. I didn’t want to lose you over some stupid crush. But I guess it’s more than that. It’s always been more than that.” He says, his voice is sincere and sweet.

He cups your face in his hands and looks into your eyes, making your heart flutter. He strokes your cheek with his thumb and says, “But how could I not fall for you? You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re kind, you’re beautiful. You’re everything I ever wanted.” He smiles and leans in, closing the gap between you. His lips touch yours softly, gently, sweetly. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back, feeling his arms around your waist and his hair between your fingers. You feel his warmth and his breath dancing across your skin. He deepens the kiss, making your heart race, and before it goes any further, he pulls away slightly and whispers in your ear, “No more secrets?”

You nod, “No more secrets.”

He kisses your forehead and hugs you tight, making you feel safe and loved.

He nuzzles into your neck, “You’re mine.”

You nod, unable to contain your giggle, “And you’re mine.”

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian oneshot #noah sebastian x y/n #noah Sebastian x you #bad omens fanfiction

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moremousewrites · 11 days

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Disarm Pt 2

Pairing: Astarion/Tav (GN)

Request link

Summary: After the group discovered your secret relationship with Astarion, you have to go and face the entire party. While enduring their teasing, Astarion feels the need to intervene

Tags: fluff, bullying, blood mention

A/N: thank you for requesting a part 2! This was really fun to write

After finally cracking open the heavily guarded treasure chest and taking its contents, your party decided it was time to return to camp. You were exhausted from the events that occurred leading up to that moment and desperately needed to rest. When you arrived at camp, you noticed Karlach and Shadowheart had been exchanging looks, like they had something planned.

At camp, you changed into clothes that weren't caked with dirt and blood and met everyone around the campfire for dinner. An odd feeling like being watched follows you and you look at your companions who are all staring at you.

You realized the entire camp has already been told about your secret rendezvous with Astarion. “News travels fast, I see” you said, annoyance clearly written on your face. Everyone turned to look at the sky or some very interesting patches of grass, you scowled to yourself as you sat by the fire. It wasn't that you were trying to hide your relationship with Astarion, per se. It just felt like announcing it would complicate things. Especially if this was just supposed to be a fling, now that everyone knew it just felt very official and real.

Karlach sat next to you, gesturing nudging you with her elbow. “Not sitting with your lover? Did we make you shy?” She joked.

You rolled your eyes but smiled at her. She was hard to be mad at. “Alright get it out of your system, after tonight I don't want to hear another word” you said to her, not realizing that the entire camp was ready to throw in their two gold pieces.

Wyll was the first, surprisingly. “Do you need a two-person coffin to cuddle?”

Then Shadowheart. “Have you always had a thing for the undead or just vampires?” You looked up at Astarion, eyes pleading for help. He looked furious but kept it behind an exaggerated smile. He made his way over, cautiously trying to avoid attention.

“How courteous of you to join us, Astarion. We wouldn't want you to be left out” Gale chimed in, chuckling to himself.

Astarion sat next to you, opposite of Karlach. “Are all your lives so boring you've become invested in ours?” he spat behind that smile that just barely faltered.

“Aww, look at that, Tav. He said ‘our lives’. You two are so cute!” Karlach said, sincerity pouring into her voice. This must actually be entertaining for them.

You almost buried your face in your hands when you felt Astarion grab your hand in support. Maybe to hold himself together.

“Chk! I didn't not realize you would play with your food, Astarion,” Lae'zel scoffed. Astarion's grip on your hand tightened. “If you ever decide you want a more worthy lay, my bedroll remains available” she directed the offer at you and you were just about ready to snap at all of them.

Astarion, however, beat you to the punch and stood up, pulling you with him. “Alright that's enough! You've had your fun, time to grow up” his smile completely dropped, now.

You both walked away from the party, wolf whistling ensued. Once you were out of view from the camp, Astarion let go of your hand and scratched the back of his neck.

“Are you alright? I didn't think it'd go like that” you asked, shifting on your feet.

Astarion looked at you, seeming to snap out of some deep thought. “Oh, yes. I just didn't want to share your attention with that juvenile crowd” he waved them off, regaining his composure.

You shrugged your shoulders, still put off by your companion's reactions. “At least we know we were right to keep things quiet about us” you said, a bit glum. You weren't sure if Astarion would want to continue seeing you now that you were under scrutiny.

Astarion smiled at you, his features softening. “Us?” He asked, raising a brow.

You felt the heat rise to your face again, worried you'd misspoke. “I mean, how we were- are! You know what I mean” you tried to explain. “If you still want to, that is. I don't mean to presume” Astarion's smirk grew and you looked away from him, overwhelmed.

Astarion brushed his fingers against yours, silently asking to hold your hand. You laced your fingers in his. “I'd like that” he said, running his thumb against yours.

#bg3 #astarion #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #fic request #astarion x reader

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dearheart42regenerated · 10 months

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MOTORCITY SEASON 2 MASTERPOST

once upon a time, over 10 years ago, just a few months after the announcement that Motorcity was officially canceled...the creators of the show took pity on their heartbroken fandom and gave us several glimpses of what season 2 might have been like. they saw how much we loved Motorcity and gave us every scrap of info they could at the time, so that we could use those scraps to imagine our own personal "Season 2" - whether it continue on in our fics, our fanart, or simply our own heads.

I'm making this masterpost so that none of this material will be lost or forgotten, and so any fanartists/fic writers still hanging around today can use it for inspiration. if there's any related material I've missed, PLEASE feel free to add it in a reblog or let me know in my inbox! I want this list to be as complete as we can make it! :)

The Season 2 That Never Was: A Comprehensive List

Motorcity Season 2 Rough Intro "Scratch audio by our very own Chris P." (x)

youtube

-> backup download

Season 2 Writer's Wall posted (and later deleted) by @chrisprynoski on twitter, and shared on tumblr by @peopleofmotorcity, these pictures of the writer's wall showed us a "rough sketch" of what could have been, and gave our imaginations SO many fun theories and possibilities to play with. every blurry sticky note was a treasure to us. :')

-> original tumblr posts: x x x x x x x x x x x x -> image masterpost -> google drive folder

Chris Prynoski's Fan Interview + Tumblr Q&A's this whole interview on youtube is a delight to listen to, and Part 2 in particular has some interesting bits about season 2. (skip to 17:10 for some good stuff about Texas and Chuck's backgrounds!)

youtube

-> Part 1 -> Part 2

Chris P also answered several juicy season 2 questions on tumblr. sadly his blog is deactivated now, but you can still read through all of them at the links below!

-> image masterpost -> google drive folder

Capri Chilton - Mike Chilton's long lost big sister! I can't remember where or when it was first revealed that they were considering giving Mike a secret older sister, and I haven't been able to track down the origin. that being said, when it was revealed, the fandom loved the idea so much that they begged the creators to make it canon. Chris P busted out the "magical canon stick", gave us this delightful concept sketch, and "Capri Chilton" was born!

The Motorcity Series Bible (Pages 1-13) "To help you all understand what it is you are reading, this is the material that Titmouse used to help pitch Motorcity, and it was also a tool for writers to use when coming up with episodes to help understand who the characters were before there was any other reference. That being said, this was one of the very first documents about Motorcity, so many things have changed or evolved from these early concepts." (x)

-> original tumblr posts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 -> image backups -> PDF download

Motorcity Series Bible - Redacted Version (Pages 1, 2, 17, 19, 20) funfact: @peopleofmotorcity was the official? unofficial? tumblr blog for Motorcity, and it was run by a guy named Mac - an animator for the show who loved to tease and joke around with the fandom. before revealing the actual first 13 pages of the series bible, he posted this censored version as a prank - a mix of truth and trolling! it's up to the fandom to decide which is which. ;)

-> original tumblr posts: 1 2 17 19 20 -> image backups -> PDF download

so far this is all the material I have about season 2. but if I find more, I will add it here! :)

#motorcity #motorcity season 2 #mike chilton #capri chilton #julie kane #chris prynoski #peopleofmotorcity #Youtube

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maopll · 5 months

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— rivals to lovers !

synopsis: sworn rivals in terms of academics. you two would never even share a glance at eachother. your animosity towards eachother was quite well known throughout the academiya. yet here comes this co-project that will be the cupid for you two.

⌗:, a/n: its a special fic for my irl bestie. it was a deal and I had to do this @isqaroth

⌗:, warning: big tits men scare me.

" considering how you are, I'd say this project suits you. nothing but a waste of time."

You gasped and snapped back at him, "oh? so who gave you this authority to belittle the hardwork of someone? hmph!" you glared at him fiercely and stomped away. Your shoes were clacking against the marble floor quite loudly showing your clear hatred towards him.

"alhaitham, must you truly pick on them today of all days?" kaveh tried to reason, "today is after all the day we present our projects to ensure our enrollment in the best departments."

"What I said was not wrong. How do they expect to get a good seat when they've clearly chosen the topic that others will choose?" stating this he walked away the other direction towards his classroom which he was assigned.

It was the time when the students would be called to their respective departments. Contrary to what Alhaitham had guessed, your project was one of the best among the students and found the best class in your own Darshan.

"so? Mister alhaitham?" you snickered in his direction, "Looks like your intuition missed the bullseye this time." Even he found it quite odd, his guess and intuitions are always spot on but with you they would always come out incorrect.

"It was merely a prediction. Shouldn't you be glad it was incorrect?" he looked at you straight in the eyes. Clear distate in his tongue since he had entered the same darshan as you. The Haravatat, which he tried to avoid at all cost. He took this sore truth with a pinch of salt.

Not a day went by when you two wouldn't bicker. "Stop trying to read books while I'm talking alhaitham," you shouted. Unbeknownst to you, he had his noise-cancelling headphones on. You were fuming, and he decided not to listen to you during the most crucial time?! you unwillingly came to him since you couldn't rely on others' notes, and there was only Alhaitham who you could rely on.

Each passing day, you felt the wrinkles starting to appear on your forehead faster and you sighed more often. Today you felt 10 years of your life got subtracted because you and THE alhaitham were grouped for a project.

"There's no way the professor would commit such a crime..." you spoke devastated. He could say the same but decided to maintain his composure and only heaved a sigh with arms crossed.

The way you two bonded over the days you spent for the project was needless to say quite interesting. The time, place, and situations varied the variable of you two bickering stayed constant. "Did you chart out all the requirements, procedure, and observation?" he asked but you only scratched your neck, "ahh..about that.." he faceplamed loudly.

You two eventually learned more about the other's likes and dislikes. The usual disagreements between you two soon died down. This is the junction when you two started observing one another even intricately.

'guess he's not half bad..'

'seems like they've grown tolerable and kind these past few days..."

While these thoughts seemed foreign to both of you, those little things would soon form a small fragment of a treasured memory.

"Here you go." You threw the drink towards alhaitham and drank yours. "I don't remember telling you the flavour I liked of this drink?" "I'd say it was quite clear to me."

His words rather than being sharp like daggers were now more soothing and soft to hear. Your behaviour became more amicable towards him. Cooking him food sometimes, buying him the books he would tell you in the midst of a conversation. He did the same. The food you liked, the stationeries you'd eye and what not.

With time, the feelings in you for him blossomed. This was when you'd observe his admirable face from afar and when he was not looking. He even caught you looking at him a few times. He couldn't deny the feeling how his heart would rapidly thump inside his chest and the way his cheeks would redden whenever your hands brushed against one another's.

"haah...." he sighed loudly. His face in his hands. He truly needs to gather his thoughts right now. This attraction he felt towards you were not only growing more day by day but also growing quite unbearable as he has to hide his lovesick face under that stoic facade of his. "There should be some solution to this situation right?".

"how am I supposed to tell them that I lo—"

"huh? ah Alhaitham! I've been searching for you everywhere. Were you saying something?"

His eyes widened. "oh I was just.." don't panic alhaitham be calm like how you've always been. think this through.

"Oh it's nothing that important...let's go have dinner shall we?"

Many weeks passed by and alhaitham finally decided to confront you about his feelings. It was just like out of a cliché love story but it doesn't matter to him. For every problem he only wants the answer affirmative.

A soft breeze, gentle glow of the moonlight and quite streets. There was tranquil and a hint of romance in this dreamy landscape. He has been thinking about this for a while but, he couldn't find his happiness without you. Although both of you started your journey with hatred, it soon turned out to be one of love and care.

After a short silence, you spoke "nice view isn't it? to think that we reached one year of doing this project together...been eventful hasn't it?" His mind was all over the place, his heart thumping rapidly, and his palms cold. He's never been this anxious in his life.

"[name] I've been meaning to tell you—" before he could complete his sentence, you wrapped your hands around his large ones. "knew they were cold" you chuckled, "can't keep the hands of yours cold now can I?". There was this gentle look in yours eyes as if they knew everything. The moonlight accentuated your features even more. You look beautiful. Oh, you look godly.

Maybe it was adrenaline? Maybe it was him being serenaded by your breathtaking beauty that he involuntarily spoke what his heart felt.

"I love you"

Your eyes widened. A huge red blush dusted your cheeks on hearing the words from the mouth of a person that you pined for. You wrapped your arms around his neck and planted a tender kiss on his lips. You reciprocated his feelings with the same honey like sweetness.

"I love you too, Alhaitham"

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham imagines #alhaitham fluff #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham #al haitam x reader #al haitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #alhaitham headcanons

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twistedwonderlandfantasies · 9 months

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(Repost)

Azul Ashengrotto as Your Boyfriend💜🪸🐚🐙💜

fluffy, fem/neutral!reader

(Sorry it ended up so long I could just talk about this smexy man all day) Remember to drink water <3

Azul had heard a lot about the human world, but only ever experienced it when he enrolled at Night Raven College. That being said, he's totally enthralled with human objects. He loves collectables, novelty items, knick-knacks and anything of the sort. His love and fascination with our material goods shows when he gives you the most random things. "Look at this vintage set I found at an auction." "I saw a what's it called? Ah, snow globe. Look, there's a cat inside that looks like Grim, do you like? It's for you." It's a very endearing trait he has which is exclusive only to you. When he goes shopping you're also on his mind and just adores sharing his finds with his love.

Similarly, your own fascination with his world has led Azul to gift you things from the sea. Beautiful pearl necklaces of whatever color you like, conch shells of different sizes and types, endless seashells, rare gemstones found near the waters, magical items, and if you're into antiques, he'll go retrieve lost items from the sea buried within shipwrecks or dropped by people.

Besides the miscellaneous gifts Azul loves buying you clothes. At first it caught you by surprise, but you realized it was apart of his attraction to our things. "In the sea we don't have a need for clothing, but up here you humans can express yourselves in so many ways. So I thought this dress might look rather nice on you, hm?"

He's the same with perfumes. He just loves spoiling you in all the material things he can find that don't exist in the deep blue.

His office literally has all of the gifts you got him spread out in it on shelves and his desk. He constantly thinks of you, even at work, and treasures everything you make/get him, wanting to keep it forever where he can always see and remember you.

One of his favorite activities with you is reading messages in bottles he finds from the ocean. You're always surprised at how many there are, but you both realize it's actually a pretty big hobby among people even today. Old bottles are especially interesting, its contents mostly containing stories of love and tragedies. You help explain to Azul how people up here think and behave when something doesn't make sense to him (which is pretty often considering how contradicting people are). You collect them to avoid polluting the waters but keep them somewhere safe and respectfully.

He absolutely loves taking you into the waters with him. Whether in human or mer-form. If you love to swim then it isn't much of a surprise to have him as your boyfriend, but if you can't swim or are afraid to Azul will teach you how and be the absolute best, sweetest teacher. Bonus if you watch the sunset together while leisurely swimming or sitting on the sand, it's quite romantic, really. Expect the occasional water tag and playing around as Azul just can't help but tease you when he feels so confident in his natural environment. this may or may not end in some more intimate actions.

Ironically, Azul finds your voice mesmerizing. If he catches you singing while you think no one is around, he WILL stay hidden just to continue listening. "You sing like a siren my dear." "Are you sure you aren't the one who's put me under your spell?" He may come up behind you quietly, wrapping his arms around your waist gently in an embrace while taking in the soft smell of your hair. "Please, don't stop now, I do so enjoy listening to you."

While transformation magic from mer-person to human is more commonly done, transforming a person into the latter is more difficult, but not impossible. The first time you decide to transform into a mermaid , it catches Azul by surprise. You really want to immerse yourself into his world and live in the sea for however long. After much consideration you decide to do it. Who would have thought your tail would be so beautiful. The way your hair flows, you glide effortlessly across the waters, the iridescent scales of your tail reflecting in colorful arrays. Maybe you are a siren. Azul can't decide if he loves you more like this or as a human. You're just too beautiful no matter what.

You two swimming across Atlantica is like a dream; so deeply in love. You get to explore so many amazing things and bond with him in ways you never could have imagined. He shows you all of the different kind of fish, corals, you get to swim with dolphins and sharks, visit different mer-cities. Expect Azul to blow you bubble hearts and kisses because he really can be that cute sometimes.

extra fun if the twins tag along.

His skin, like the twins, is also perfectly soft and radiant. Your hands love to be on him. You caress his cheeks, massage him, rub your thumb over his palm while holding hands. You're almost jealous at how good his skin is! Of course Azul is more than willing to return the favors of touch. You two enjoy long cuddles and hugs.

Honestly, Azul is a 100/10 boyfriend and when he isn't destroying unsuspecting people with his contracts he's just infatuated with you beyond description and if he could he would love on you constantly all day everyday. His soft side is ONLY for you, his gentle touches and kisses, his thoughtful words, the teasing, sweet nothings. Sometimes the dichotomy of this man shocks you, but maybe that's one of the reasons you love him so much.

"The sea witch was defeated by the mermaid and human in the end. Some say it was true love which was strong enough to end her, I used to laugh at that thought, now, I'm beginning to understand its true power."

💙💜💚💜💙💚💜💙💚💜💙💚

#azul ashengrotto #night raven college #twst azul #azul x reader #octavinelle #disney twst #disney twisted #disney twist #disney twisted wonderland #twsted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland

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ink-sunflower · 3 months

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A token of servitude (Sukuna x Reader)

No spoilers Words: 1095 Warning: yeah, it’s a sukuna ff after all, so there might be present some violents, dark content (though not something too much)

Summary: Reader travels to Heian age and meets Sukuna

✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧

Time is a thread with innumerable beads that are brimmed with life occurrences. It’s like a jewellery, and the treasure of it can never be purchased by a mortal. But in the world of jujutsu sorcerers, curse users and curses, one doesn't seem so unattainable.

My curse technique allows me to perceive the priceless jewellery of time. I’m called the Time Walker, but the comprehension of my ability is vague. Even I can’t be sure about how my powers work.

But one thing I know for sure: the beads of the past are unalterable and do not yield to forging. Therefore, we cannot change it. The outcome we encounter in the present is a sequence of actions taken from the past. Meaning, even my ability of travelling within the thread of time can do nothing to the formed beads. The future though is flexible. Obtained knowledge help reach the desirable result.

My master has burdened me with a glorious purpose. I have to go to Heian era to find the sword of the Damned. The blade of the weapon is so sharp that it cut everything. Even in Heian period it was lost somewhere. And my task is to find that place.

One being was seeking it. Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses. Just his name brings fear. The powerful and the cruel being whose name alone is enough to make people tremble with fear.

One thousand is a significant number to pass. Yet it’s the least obstacle.

So my life brought me here. One moment, in the midst of busy streets. But after my eyes has falls shut and curse energy has started flowing through my vanes, the world started shifting. It takes no time in a basic understanding of the phenomenon. For me, though, it’s different. I can’t count time spending walking on the thread, calculating the right among of beads to bypass. Time as a measurable unit looses its senses here.

And after nothing but everything, a warmth of sun rays combined with placating breeze welcome me in an old era.

Feeling a bit drowsy, I spend some time sitting on the ground, unmindful of the outside world.

My state of was interrupted by a rustle of glass. I decipher a pair of human beings coming to this area.

Deciding not to reveal myself to them, I take a place to hide.

Now that they’ve become closer, I am able to discern the essence of their conversation.

“Do you think the rumours are truthful?” One of them babbles.

“Of course they are. He’s tall and monstrous. Thought some women would die to spend a night with him. Perhaps, If we are lucky, we’ll find one willing one,” the other replies. “Lord Sukuna rewards handsomely for nice offerings, brother.”

“And maybe we can have fun before handing her.”

Disgusting. Those pigs are not better ones from Zenin clan. But they can be of use. I think it’s time for a show.

“Help me! Somebody, please!” I yell, falling down to the ground. This got they attention immediately as they run to me. “Something was haunting me!”

They took a look around the forest but obviously find nothing suspicious. That makes two brothers glee thereof, they share a malicious grimace. One brother takes a rope to bound the prize and present it to the King of Curses like a toy enclosed with a ribbon.

“The luck is on our side today, brother.” And they have never been more wrong.

That’s what I need – to make them think of a prey that they have caught. A nameless face to give away as a some trinket. I give them something more to gloat: purity, so they think of me as even more worthy price.

I do not need my eyes to know that we’ve arrived to Sukuna’s shrine (or temple, whatever it is). An overwhelmingly magnificent and ominous energy emits from the walls, the power of which makes you suffocate on its presence.

Inside the shrine, I can behold the King himself.

There he is, sitting on his throne, his posture is confident and chin is high. Sukuna’s pink spiked hair slightly pushed upfront and black lines adorn his face and mighty body. The drawing in old books capture nothing of the real image.

For a second, a small second, my gaze is caged within his eyes. A bolt of emotions strikes though me, causing goosebumps to form on my skin. Was it dread or rather… excitement? I feel something that draws me in, something more subtle and complex.

A monstrous entity with four arms says nothing, but a predatory smirk appears, unrevealing his fangs.

Perhaps my boldness amuses him. I’m grateful to still have my head.

Two men pushes me to the ground, kneeling before the King. They’re forcing me to bend so low, that my forehead meets the ground.

My cue to act.

Breaking the robes with the help of mu cursed energy, I do not give them time to comprehend a single thought and seize their flabbergasted state to take care of brothers. With a swift motion, I punch them into their snouts of faces, making them land hard on their backs.

The smallest of them is knocked out within the first attempt, the other is tougher, it seems. He tries to stand up and blow a hit, but with a kick in the stomach, he ends up on the floor once again.

It is not enough for my satisfaction. The person does not deserve mercy.

Even though he knew he couldn’t have something in intimate senses in order not to stain his prize, it did not deter his hands from inappropriate touches. But I had to play a part, so I held back. I could tell, it was nothing new to the brothers, to treat women like this, and their misogynistic conversations made it difficult not to throw up.

I can pay back now.

With strong determination, I lift my leg and deliver a straight hit on his “valuable” part between his legs. A loud screech thunders though the walls. (🐣 An omelette is ready to be cooked)

The curtains close and I kneel before Sukuna. He exudes a powerful and sinister aura, just looking at him gives me a mixed feeling of awe and terror.

“My Lord, may I present you my offerings, these two fine pigs.”

Sukuna cackles wickedly, his deep voice rumbles, leaving a ringing in my ears. It flows effortlessly and enchants to listen to it.

“Well, that’s quite intriguing. Let’s see what else you have in you.”

°。°。°。°。°。°。

How was it? Should I continue writing the story?

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x oc #sukuna fanfic

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cod-dump · 11 months

Text

The Fort

TW: Silliness without plot, silliness, literally no serious plot

___

Price liked giving the boys days off together if he could, that way they could keep each other occupied. Believe it or not, they actually get into less trouble when two or more of them are free. They liked to hoard themselves in the rec room their entire day off, usually leaving the room in a mess by the time they left.

Price normally never witnessed the mayhem first-hand, always giving the boys their space to enjoy themselves. But he wanted to check on them after giving them a week off after a hard mission. He hadn't seen them for four days straight and just wanted to confirm they were alive. So he went to the rec room with cookies as a peace offering for intruding.

Price was not prepared for the sheer chaos that greeted him when he opened the door.

The couches were flipped over, leaning against the pool table with sheets thrown overtop. The boys were no where in sight and Price realized the TV was missing from its usual place, as well. The extension cords suggested it was in their makeshift fort. Price inched closer to the fort, hearing muttering from within it.

"Boys?"

The muttering ceased and a broomstick suddenly stuck out from the sheets, prodding Price in the stomach to keep him from coming any closer.

"Come no closer, fiend!"

Price blinked at Gaz's exclaim as what sounded like Soap and Roach laughing followed.

"Fiend?"

"Hold up-" Gaz sticks his head out from the sheets, "Oh! Hi, Captain! Sorry, we thought you were Ghost coming back to steal our bounty!"

Price blinked, processing what Gaz had said, "You're... trying to keep Ghost... from stealing your 'bounty'?"

Soap pokes his head out, "He kept eating all the crisps and wanted to control the TV so we kicked him out."

Roach pokes out from under Soap, "Now he's our mortal enemy."

"Huh... Alright, then. Well, I was coming to see if you boys were alive."

Roach points, "What's in the container?"

"Oh, Laswell's snickerdoodle cookies."

The three gasp, stars in their eyes. They disappear under the sheets, back into the fort, before they use the broomstick to open the sheets up.

"Welcome, Lord Price! Come share your treasure with us!"

Price snorts, "I have work to do, boys. Just came to check on you."

"Oh..."

"But these cookies are for you."

"YES!"

Price leans down to hand over the cookies when, suddenly, they're snatched from Price's hands.

"What-?"

He turns in time to see Ghost disappear out of the rec room. Price didn't have to say anything (or more like didn't have time to) before Gaz, Soap, and Roach charged out of the fort after Ghost.

"COME BACK HERE, THIEF!"

Price stands, blinking. He really had to get back to work but the boys were clearly doing something far more entertaining than whatever the SAS emailed him. Price decides to sit on the floor, pulling out his phone and checking the base's security footage. From there, he was able to watch the boys chase after Ghost throughout the halls.

Sadly, he couldn't hear what they were saying. And he knows it was hilarious. Though he was fairly entertained by how everyone else on base was reacting to the chaos of the 141's core members running around like madmen over a container of cookies.

Eventually, Ghost ran into the rec room. He got on his knees and slid past Price into the fort. The sheets fluttered closed by the time the other three ran in.

"GHOST!"

"My fort now."

Price covered his mouth to keep from laughing as Gaz was swatted by the broomstick when he tried to get back into the fort. Soap and Roach were also swatted when they got too close, making Price realize there was only one opening into their fort.

"YOU DISHONORABLE CRUMB OF DIRT! LEAVE OUR FORT IMMEDIATELY AND WE WILL SHOW YOU MERCY!"

Price snickered at the commitment Gaz was giving this bit.

"Let me think about it... Nah, I'm staying."

"THEN YOU LEAVE US NO CHOICE-"

"Oh please, what are you going to do? You can't touch me!"

Soap joins in, "Oh, fairest Ghost! May I join you inside?"

"No."

Soap gasps loudly, "I thought we had something!"

Price rolls his eyes and stands, "You boys have your fun-"

Price is stopped from leaving by Roach, "Lord Price! Help us retake our fort and we shall share our bounty with you!"

"Boys-"

Roach takes his goggles off and hits him with the saddest eyes Price has ever seen on him. Gaz and Soap quickly join in and Price sighs loudly, knowing he wouldn't hear the end of it if he didn't help them.

"Fine. Step aside."

Price approaches the fort, ready for Ghost to swipe at him with the broomstick. Once he was close enough, the broomstick stuck out, ready to hit him. Price quickly grabbed it and yanked it out of Ghost's grasp.

There was a moment of silence before-

"Oh shit-"

"CHARGE!"

Gaz dives into the fort, Soap and Roach following suit. Immediately there was high pitched screaming and cursing. Price backed up, not sure what to expect. Suddenly, Ghost crawls out of the fort lightning speed, Gaz following him but only going a foot outside of the fort. Price yelps when Ghost knocks into his legs, sending him crashing to the floor.

"BLOODY HELL, SIMON!"

Ghost lays on top of him, Price wheezing by his weight being completely on his stomach. He wiggled around but found himself unable to get free.

"Listen here, you little shits! I have a hostage!"

Roach peeks out and gasps, "He has Lord Price!"

Gaz goes to charge out but Soap grabs him by the ankle, "No! Don't! There's no telling what he might do to him!"

"That's right! He's in danger until you give into my demands!"

Gaz glares, "What do you want?"

"To be let back into the fort!"

Gaz looks at Roach and Soap for their input before sighing, "Fine, you can come back."

"AND I WANT TO WATCH LEGALLY BLONDE!"

"FUCKING-"

Price groans, "Let him watch the movie!"

"UGH- FINE!"

Ghost gets off of Price and shoves his way back into the fort. Price wheezes as he sits up. He forgot how big of a guy Ghost was. Gaz crawls over to him.

"Are you alright, Lord Price?"

"I'll live. Is this seriously what you boys get up to on your days off?"

Gaz blinks, "Yea? What else would we do?"

Price stares before shrugging.

"DON'T EAT ALL THE COOKIES!"

Gaz immediately darts back into the fort. Price rolls his eyes but smiles as he stands. He begrudgingly went back to his boring office and to do his boring reports. He'll have to see if there's room for him in the fort tomorrow.

#something something about men who weren't able to play as children finally being able to goof off #something about the boys feeling comfortable enough with price to act like this #something silly :)#a small drabble/fic until i get a bigger fic out #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #gary roach sanderson #call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #drabble #plotlessness #plotless fluff #fluff #fam 141

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sanccharine · 6 months

Text

15:47 | mm

pairing: assassin!momo x handler!reader

summary: good speakers are good liars, too bad momo is neither. co-written by @eternallyghosting chapter summary: momo puts a man in his place

warning: use of guns sidenote: we don't know anything about guns,,,and we gave up on researching and being accurate, sorry ;-;

word count: 2.6k

a/n: as promised assassin!momo is here, also this connects to 15:34 (momo finds a gun). additionally, indigo wrote everything, i didn't do jackshit for this part, im just here to post and disappear like avatar aang

masterlist

You were seated on your recliner, taking advantage of the quiet in the house to read one of your all-time favorites, a copy of Metamorphoses you had treasured since you were a teenager, before the silence was disturbed by a beep on your phone.

As you hurried to put your book away, you frowned at your phone screen lit up with a notification from your shared calendar.

This Friday, 5-6 pm. Momo had not added anything more.

Figuring she must have woken from her nap if she was scheduling things, you called out to her.

Silence. Before you could say anything again, you were interrupted by another beep, signaling the change in the time slot from 6-7 pm.

And then another, shifting it back to 5 pm.

You sighed. What was going on?

Deciding you were done with your reading for the time being, you got up to carefully place your book back in its curated spot on your bookshelf before making your way upstairs.

You pushed open the door to your bedroom to find Momo fiddling on her phone in bed, the sheets tangled around her.

“Hey,” you leaned against the doorframe, “what’s this?”

“Hm?” she yawned.

Pointing to your own phone screen, you asked again. “What’s this Friday?”

“Oh!” Momo rubbed the sleep out of her eyes mid-sentence. “It’s for our shooting class.”

“Our what now?” Hearing Momo casually mention shooting came as a surprise to you, no matter the amount of hours you had spent in her earpiece discussing the exact same thing.

“Remember that gun we have in the back of our closet?”

How could you forget? For all its innocence and claims of self-defense, it was a thrilling reminder of what you both faced on the daily. Well, Momo did. Although you supposed sending her out there, day after day, knowing what she was getting herself into put you on the frontline as well.

Yes, you had trained for this, and yes, you had signed the contract agreeing to be the permanent handler of Agent 64, but a hidden part of you would always put up a fight whenever a new mission file came along, wanting nothing more then to go back to when you were just Y/N and she was just Momo.

Seemingly unaware of your inner turmoil, Momo continued, “Well, I have a license, but I think you should also get some practice in. Just in case, you know?”

Just in case.

“A gun date!” You exclaimed, trying to make light of the situation. In all honesty, it had completely slipped your mind, what with unpacking and settling in as well as meeting all your neighbours who insisted on inviting you two over for meals.

She rolled her eyes. “Sure, yes, a gun date, if that makes you feel better.”

Nothing about this situation would, but you would take it. After all, it meant getting to spend more time with Momo. And despite everything you knew about her capabilities and renowned skills, you had yet to see her actually wield a weapon. This could be fun. You wondered if she would actually shoot as she had been trained to, or if she would fumble her shots on purpose.

Her pride wouldn’t let her. You hid a smile as you thought about Momo at the range. Perhaps you would come up with something to bring out her competitive spirit. After all, you had to get your shots in too.

You nodded as you finally stepped into the room, moving closer to the bed. “So, Friday then?”

“Yep, I had emailed the closest range the very day we moved in, but they only just got back to me saying they could pencil us in for a slot.”

“Sounds good,” you hummed noncommittally, throwing yourself backward onto the bed. Momo did not seem like she would be getting out of bed anytime soon, and your sleep schedules were messy anyways. Dinner could wait.

Despite your previous reservations (and you wouldn’t say this out loud), you were actually excited to go to the range with Momo.

It had been an easy week for the two of you; having no immediate missions meant Momo could stay around and help you organize the house. It had been weeks since you had moved in, but there was still so much to do. You and Momo had found an easy rhythm of working, wherein you would organize and dictate the layout of the house, while Momo helped build all your furniture. After all, I am good with my hands, she had smirked.

Although the session you had booked was at five, you had to leave much earlier. Curse this town and its lack of accessibility. Although, you mused, that was precisely why you had chosen to relocate here, so you couldn’t really complain.

Momo had volunteered to drive, so you sat back and shuffled around the playlists on your phone as she pulled into the freeway with ease.

You wouldn’t say this out loud either, but you had been thinking of silly bets you could make with Momo to make the shooting session more fun.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll get like, eight bullseyes,” you began confidently.

She kept her eyes steady on the road, but you could see a smirk make its way across her face.

“Pshh, in your dreams.” Her fingers tightened imperceptibly on the steering wheel. Aha, so her competitive spirit had awoken.

“How about… ” you drifted off as if deep in thought, “loser does the dishes for two weeks?”

She shook her head. “Make it three and then it’s worthwhile.”

“How about laundry? Or gardening?” As you continued to think of new ways you could torture her with chores, she suddenly straightened in her seat.

“Loser goes out for dinner with Mr. Jones.”

You shuddered. “Ugh, I wouldn’t want to wish that on you, babe.”

Her smirk never left her face. “You seem pretty confident.”

“Oh, yeah! I told you already, how hard can it be?” You mimicked explosions again, only for Momo to swat your hand away.

“Fine, if you’re so confident, then dinner with Mr. Jones it is,” she said resolutely.

“You’re on.”

Although Momo was a highly sought-after assassin, you were not one to back down from a challenge. Settling further into your leather seat, you spent the rest of the ride jokingly trash-talking her, thinking of gross food combinations that your elderly neighbour would probably have on his dinner table.

As Momo pulled up into the tiny parking lot attached to the gun range, you couldn't stop the restless shaking of your legs. You weren't really worried about handling a gun; despite not being in the field you were confident in your abilities and comfort with a gun. As strange as it sounds, you were nervous about seeing Momo wield one.

Momo sensed your nerves and put a warm palm on your knee, her touch comforting. "Hey, it'll be fine. An instructor will be guiding us."

You managed a shaky smile as she continued, "and after all, it's for self defense, right?"

Right, self defense...

A strange look passed Momo as she said that, one you couldn’t decipher, though it disappeared when she nodded.

Your instructor turned out to be a burly, unsmiling man who made no effort at conversation. You supposed that was just as well, you needed no distractions in the range.

As he talked through the make of the gun, as well as its safety features, both you and Momo tried your hardest to act as if you were paying attention. Chancing a glance at her face, you could see her eyes trained only on the pistol in the instructor's hand. Not because she needed a reminder on how to load a bullet, but because she had already planned out an entire scenario in her head where she would have to face the opposition without having ready weapons. You could see it in the clench of her jaw, her unblinking eyes seemingly boring holes into the unsuspecting pistol.

You turned your attention back to what he was saying, only to catch the tail end of his sentence. "...and make sure you store it in a reclined postion."

Your eyes narrowed. You weren't supposed to store it that way.

Although the instructor was in the wrong you decided to keep quiet and let him finish talking. Momo however, couldn't help herself.

“Storing it that way increases the chances of the bullet getting stuck, potentially backfiring the weapon," she said sharply, her eyes never leaving the gun.

"Um, oh. Well…”

"Do your research before you teach civilians how to fire guns." You winced at her harsh tone.

Although the man towered over the both of you in height, he seemed to shrink a couple inches upon Momo's rebuke, speechless at her interruption.

"Carry on," she waved a dismissive hand when he showed no signs of continuing his lecture.

"Right so um, let's move on to aiming," you tuned out again when you realised these were the extreme basics you'd learnt in your first few days at the academy.

You let your thoughts wander to the period of your youth, undergoing grueling training in similar ranges with your friends. Only then it was a much more serious matter. You sighed. How had it already been so many years since you passed out of the system? Since you moved on and became a handler? Momo’s handler.

You came back to the present as Momo grabbed your arm, leading you to get fitted with a weapon. She seemed very in her element here, which you supposed wasn't too far off from her persona on the field. Although never having seen this in person before, you decided you liked this confident Momo.

Once you had both been fitted with guns, safety goggles, and ear plugs, your instructor led you over to an enclosed room. It was a long hallway, with narrow channels created by glass separations, and targets stuck onto the far wall.

Momo gestured at you to make the first shot, smirking as she did so. Clearly she was enjoying this.

Despite the flutters in your stomach caused by her confident aura, you forced your eyes away from her as you steadied your hand.

Taking the all too familiar shooting stance, you took a deep breath and fired.

A clear hole could be seen on the ring marking a nine. It wasn’t bad, but you were better than this.

Momo raised an eyebrow at you. “Beginner’s luck?”

If only she knew.

You shrugged, signaling her to make the next shot.

She took the same stance you had, the same pose holding the gun aloft, her eyes narrowed on the target the same way yours had. Then why did it look so much cooler?

The sound of a buzzer led to a temporary pause in your admiration of Momo.

You glanced at the target. A bullseye. Of course.

Her cheekbones would surely hurt at night from all the smirking she had been doing. It seemed the smile never left her face as the two of you alternated between rounds. Your instructor, after observing you two for a few shots and coming to the fairly obvious conclusion that you wouldn’t do something stupid like shoot at the ceiling, had left you to your own devices and had wandered over to chat with the employee at the weapons station.

“Alright,” Momo clapped her hands once before extending it, “warmup’s over. Let’s begin the bet, shall we?”

“You’re on.” You solemnly shook her hand, not one to back down from the ridiculous dramatics of the bet.

As she reloaded her pistol, you stood still to take stock of the situation. You had purposefully fumbled a few shots during your warm-up so as to not make your wife suspicious, but could you really risk doing that when the stakes were having dinner with Mr. Jones?

No, you obviously could not.

You’d just have to pretend to be a fast learner. After all, Momo had first-hand observed how you took on new recipes and mastered skills after a few tries. It wouldn’t be too far off to say you were already good at target practice.

You reloaded your own gun and waited for Momo to go first this time, thinking you would continue to alternate shots as you had before. However, you were sorely mistaken.

If you thought Momo had been in her element during the warm-up, this was an all-new, evolved Momo. Her eyes never left the target as she swiftly reloaded her pistol after each shot, her hands a blur from the fast motions. She did not look to see if you were shooting, nor did she wait for you to catch up. She had ten bullets and she made ten bullseyes. The sound of the buzzer was a neverending cacophony of success.

Only after silence had once again settled in the room did she move away from the shooting platform, pushing her goggles up over her forehead.

“Pick your jaw up from the floor, babe, there might be flies around here.” She sauntered over to you, casually holding the gun loose between her slender fingers.

Holy shit. How were you supposed to one up her now?

She must have sensed the resignation on your face, as she moved closer to pat you between your shoulder blades.

“I’m sure dinner won’t be that bad,” she said with a teasing grin.

You rolled your eyes at her before focusing on the gun in your hand, steadying yourself once again before letting the bullets fly.

To your credit, you were really good. For someone who had not been active in the field for many years, you did not disappoint on your top-of-the-year status. However, Hirai Momo was simply better. Eight bullseyes and two 9s when you had briefly hesitated in the beginning could not compare to her perfect score.

As you turned away from the sound of the buzzer and made your way over to her dejectedly, you were surprised to find a pair of arms encircling your shoulders. You looked up and found a gleam in her eyes. She was happy, not just from winning the bet, you realised, but because she was able to share a part of her daily life with you, even just for a few hours.

At that, the anxiety over the impending dinner plans faded away. This was what you had been wanting too. Sharing a home and a bed with her was absolutely perfect, but the joy at being able to share an aspect of her life while being civilians was more than you could have thought of. Before the embarrassment at this public display of affection could draw her away from you, you pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

That wasn’t good enough for Momo.

“You’re pretty good with a gun, you know,” Momo hummed out before she pressed a kiss to your lips. She pulled back just enough that your noses were still touching, her eyes wide and searching.

“Like you said,” your voice was soft. “Beginner’s luck.”

“What if I take some food over to his house?”

“Absolutely not! You have to eat the dinner he makes.”

The two of you bickered over the loopholes of the bet while returning your equipment, and all the way till you were back in the car.

As you fastened your seatbelt, you felt Momo gently touch your palm to get your attention.

She looked strangely nervous and didn’t fully meet your eye, “I just wanted to say, you did really well back there. Seriously.”

There was that strange emotion again. It wasn’t something you understood, but you had the urge to divert away.

“Enough to get me out of dinner?” you asked cheekily.

She groaned. “Don’t start with this again!”

Her eyes softened as she fully turned to look at you. “I’m proud of you though.”

You mirrored her position on the seat as you smiled at her. “Self defense, am I right?”

“Yeah, self defense.”

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: ^shower indigo with love and praise otherwise i will fucking come for you, i am in your walls. okay, im done with threats now, have a good day/night everyone :]

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @happilychaengs

#a game of hide and seek #mala's collection #sanccharine #indigo's archive #eternallyghosting :]#momo x reader #twice x reader #momo fluff #jype twice #twice imagines #momo imagines

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pluto-supremacy · 9 months

Note

Can I add to the Hobie dating an autistic person ideas based on my experiences? I'm autistic, my girlfriend isn't but neither of us would be shocked if she was.

Hobie understands that he has to be ultra specific when asking or explaining something to you. He can't be vague about it and say something will take a while, he knows you prefer a specific time.

He finds your stimming cute as fuck, but he's learned quickly to step out the way when you do stim lest he wants to be in the line of fire and accidentally get hit.

Same applies with hands. You gesture a lot with your hands and it gets more animated and crazy when you're excited and you wave then about. The cutest shit ever, not so much when you're eating or prepping food and you have a knife in your hand. A gentle reminder that its okay to stim, but maybe not with a knife or something stabby or fragile in your hand is all that's needed.

Yes, you and Hobie are on the same page 99 percent of the time, but occasionally there'll be miscommunication and what he says and means will be different to what you thought it meant. This is based on me and my girlfriend a few weeks ago. I suggested we "chill out" in her room, hoping she gets the hint. We go to her room and literally chill out whilst watching Bluey. Many laughs and kisses after, it was adorable

Hobie Brown Drabble: cooking rambles with a gn!autistic!reader

➼ I absolutely love these additions to the headcanons! I also talk a lot with my hands and at work and when I’m cooking that includes gesturing with very sharp knives, so- yeah I’m forcing that on our beloved gn!reader. Enjoy this little Drabble based on some of your lovely additions!

➼ I swear I did try my best on the accent-

➼ Sorry that this took a bit longer than I promised! Work has been kicking my ass

➼ No beta we die like uncle Aaron

➼ No warnings! Just fluff here

GIF doesn't belong to me! All credits to the original owner

You treasured nights like these, nights when Hobie wasn’t needed back at Spider HQ. Or just decided not to go. Either way, you enjoyed just being able to lounge around in your shared flat together, bitch about coworkers, turn on a cheesy movie, or your favorite: cook together. Nothing beat a homemade meal in Hobie’s opinion, he just…wasn’t the best at cooking. Wasn’t terrible either, more middle of the road, so he usually stuck to stirring and prepping the vegetables.

Tonight’s menu was grilled cheeses and tomato soup, some nice comfort food. Hobie was buttering up the pan for the sandwiches while you were chopping up some onions, going on about your day. “So then I’m at the counter just trying to ring up her order. Something complicated because of course she just couldn’t have the drinks how they come, each has at least three modifications” you rambled on. You always talked with your hands, gesturing wildly that you sometimes hit people. This was no different.

Apart from the fact that this time you had a knife in your hands.

“Like she wanted no whip on this one, double whip on that one, sprinkles on the other other one” you listed off, tapping the tip of the blade against your fingers without a second thought. Hobie was of course listening, but he had his back turned. At least it was until his Spidey-sense went off. But what could be causing danger-?

Cue you still gesturing with the knife, none the wiser that Hobie, who was once by the stove, had webbed up onto the ceiling and was standing there like a bat. Your eyes had been trained down as you went on. “I was losing my mind! I wanted to scream!” You raised your hands in frustration, and when you lowered them, the knife was gone and in its place? A wooden spoon. “What-?”

“Sorry luv, but I can’t ‘ave you swingin’ that ‘round. Can’t ‘ford a trip to the hospi’al” Hobie said, still hanging upside down on the ceiling but now with your stolen knife in hand. “I fancy ya a bi’ too much to let you ‘urt yourself.”

You could only laugh, setting the spoon down as Hobie finally jumped off of the ceiling, spinning around to land on his feet. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it” you replied, holding your hand out to get the knife back. He shot you a mock skeptical look before handing it back over, now sitting on the counter. “‘S alright swee’heart. Now watch where you’re cu’ing. I wan’ you ta keep all your fingers” he hummed out lowly, watching you get back to work. He always loved watching you talk with your hands and when you would stim, sometimes he just needed to step in to keep everyone safe. Anything for his luv.

#astv hobie #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #fluff #hobie brown x gn!reader #spider punk #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown drabble

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ahsnapitskat · 6 months

Text

We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, then another.

Then we are frustrated that the kids aren't old enough, and we'll be more content when they are.

After that, we're frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with.

We will certainly be happy when they are out of that stage.

We tell ourselves that our life will be complete when our partner gets his or her act together when we get a nicer car, are able to go on a nice holiday, when we retire.

The truth is, there's no better time to be happy than right now. If not now, when?

Your life will always be filled with challenges.

It's best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway.

A quote comes from Alfred D. Souza. He said, "For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, or a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life." This perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way.

So, treasure every moment that you have and treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time...and remember that time waits for no one.

So, stop waiting until you lose ten pounds, until you gain ten pounds, until you have kids, until your kids leave the house, until you start work, until you retire, until you get married, until you get divorced, until Friday night, until Sunday morning, until you get a new car or home, until your car or home is paid off, until spring, until summer, until winter, until your song comes on, until you've had a drink.... there is no better time than right now to be happy.

I love you 💚

#positive quotes #programming #positive mental attitude #witch aesthetic #witch community #witchblr #pastel #90s #pink #punk

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mismaeve · 1 year

Text

Runaway Love

↳ Runaway Love, Haldir x Reader, angst to fluff drabble Based on this imagine by @imagine-all-the-elves Warnings: Slight angst but little of it Word Count: 1.3k AN: I apologise for any mistakes and errors that you might find, I was only too excited to write for Haldir (yes, my first time with this ellon). But I think it turned out decent. Let me know your thoughts :)

"Imagine Haldir's reaction after you confess your feelings for him and he fails to say or do something before you think that he doesn't share your feelings and run off."

The birds chirped their spring songs in the golden trees high above you, filling your scenic afternoon walk with pleasant melodies. A great pity it was, your own anxiety preventing you from enjoying the nature around you, yet who could ever blame you for allowing your nerves to get the better of you when you had decided upon your waking this morn, that today was going to be the day at last when you would no longer hold your silence, and would bear your heart open to the one who had stolen it long ago.

“My lord Haldir,” your voice was a tad mousier than you would have wished, his effect on you seeming stronger today as if to spite your timid soul.

“Yes, my lady?” the Marchwarden gazed down towards you, his pale blue eyes finding yours in an instant, a soft questioning look making his otherwise well-guarded features look almost boyish.

“May we sit for a moment?” you tore your eyes away from him, lest unwanted color would rise to your cheeks and make you appear to be the foolish girl you had always thought yourself to be.

“Of course,” Haldir agreed softly and started you in the direction of the nearest bench.

Nearly hidden away entirely by the golden canopy of the trees that grew only in Lorien, you took your seats on the wooden bench, away from the rest of the world yet inevitably closer to the moment you had both dreaded and desperately longed for.

Your fingers became a fumbling tangle while your heart began a steady race inside your chest, trembling with every gentle breath you took in your silly hopes of calming yourself.

This was it, the moment was here. Wasn’t this what you had been dreaming of since the first day your feet had stumbled onto the precious soil of Lothlorien and your eyes had gazed upon the fair elf for the very first time?

Long had his pale eyes and golden hair haunted your dreams, more so your waking hours when deep longing had seemed to be your only companion.

His kind offer to accompany you on your daily walks had only fed your desire to unburden the feelings your heart had been nurturing in painful secret. Could you truly afford to deny yourself this moment when knowing the regret of doing so would eat you alive?

A soft yet slightly calloused hand grasped yours with a feather-like tenderness you could hardly believe possible of someone as refined a warrior as the Marchwarden.

“What troubles you, my lady?” his spoken words were not shy of honest concern.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to look at the ellon you had come to love so dearly.

“While I’ve been enjoying our friendship and treasuring the moments of your company, there is something I feel that I should confess,” you started slowly, dragging the words from your mouth despite the growing fear in the pits of your stomach.

Haldir remained silent, waiting for you to go on in that silent patience you had come to admire.

You felt like your throat was closing up, dry and hoarse it seemed, unable or unwilling to voice your truth. You swallowed once and decided to put yourself out of this misery at once. No turning back now.

“I fear that for quite some time now, I have been…I’ve been thinking of you as in…,” try as hard as you could, the words would not come out. The expectant blue eyes staring directly at you weren’t helping either, only making you that much more flustered.

“What I want to say is that,” you trailed off, still unable to find the words, cursing yourself for not having a single ounce of confidence to help you through this increasingly awkward scene.

Fool, you silly fool of a girl. Just spit it out already before he thinks you a dimwit.

“I fancy you.”

Three words. Your confession rolled off your lips with about as much grace as a tumbling of rocks.

The relief you felt was short lived. Haldir’s expression hardened, his pale eyes glazing over as if he was trying to distance himself from this naked display of emotion. To your growing horror, the Marchwarden withdrew his hand from yours and cleared his throat the same way he always did when something was annoying him.

You felt cold, his treatment of your precious heart freezing you to your very core, making you instantly feel sick while tears threatened to come at any moment.

Had it all been in your head? Him taking your hand, kissing it softly before tucking your arm underneath his own? The secret spark in his eyes whenever he saw you? His own tempered smile when your lips said his name.

Did I dream it?

“Forgive me,” you mumbled while biting back your tears. You had done more than enough to make him uncomfortable, last thing you wanted was to force him to comfort you when you had, compelled by your own delusions, made an utter fool of yourself.

As quickly as your trembling legs would carry you, you fled the scene where your heart and soul had withered, and your dreams had fallen to their death.

Bitter tears pooled in your eyes while you tried to see straight enough to not trip over a fallen branch or a stray rock on your way back the same golden pathway you had taken earlier.

Your mind frantically cursing you for your stupidity of thinking someone as high ranked as the Marchwarden would ever waste a single thought of affection on someone lowly as yourself, you had failed to notice the footsteps behind you, wide strides getting closer and closer until finally firm fingers gripped your arm and jerked you around where you collided with something firm.

“What-,“ you had started but at the sight of the ellon who had so mercilessly crushed your dreams, your words died on your lips.

Haldir’s pale eyes sparked with something you hadn’t witnessed before. He looked fierce, his features as hard as ever but this time, a certain determination was written plain on an otherwise impenetrable façade. His hands steadied you before he, without uttering a single word, knelt down before you and took your cold hand in his warm one.

“I beg your forgiveness, my lady,” he averted his eyes and was focusing all his attention to your clasped hands.

“My lack of an appropriate response has hurt you deeply, and for that I will never forgive myself. I can only hope that you can find it in your noble heart, to look past my shortcomings and accept my earnest explanation and my sincere apology.”

“I am ashamed to admit that your confession, as longed for as it was, caught me off-guard. I had only dreamed of it in the sweetest of dreams, but never dared hope to hear it from your own lips.”

His words pinned you to the ground, unable to move or even breathe while wide eyes stared at the crown of his golden head, unblinking and barely seeing the shimmering light dancing in his silken hair.

“Your confession was all I had yearned for, ever since I found you wandering along our boarders. You took my heart that night, and I was willing to let you have it for I selfishly hoped that one day you might offer me a piece of yours.”

Haldir’s eyes found yours then. You couldn’t help but marvel and shudder at the same time at how vulnerable and naked he looked, his eyes all but begging you to accept his apology and gift him with your heart anew.

“My heart is yours, Haldir. It’s always been yours,” you whispered quietly lest you would startle him back to his usually guarded self. To your and most likely his own surprise his lips moved and Haldir offered you a genuine smile, warm and soft like the spring day around you.

Gif by @lordofsilverfountain Taglist: @heilith @kanafinwe-makalaure @deep-space-elf @i-did-not-mean-to @aduialel @coopsgirl @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @augustwithquills @eunoiaastralwings @missymoo02 @warriormirkwood @dawn-petrichor-world

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in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather · 8 months

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Birthday Week Vignettes

As a little gift for my bestie and worstie, for her birthday week, I’ve written a selection of fun little vignettes (stretching the terms fun, little and vignette to mean several thousand words of something gory or fucked up).

It has been the greatest and most treasured experience I’ve had on here getting to know you. From the hilarious shit talking, to expanding my horizons in terms of what I read and write, and giving each other constant new ideas and support, I am so grateful for all the downsides of existing in an online space as it’s meant making a wonderful, cherished friend. Happy birthday and may we enjoy your presence in our lives and this garbage fire for a long, long time to come! 😍😍❤️❤️😈😈 @safarigirlsp

Day 1; assassin!Mills x RC

Summary: The Museum needs two operatives to pose as a married couple and go into a chateau full of depraved people letting loose and acting out their fantasies in an Eyes wide shut-type party. That old chestnut.

A/N: I’m a sucker for going undercover as a couple, in every iteration of that trope, and undercover at a sex party is an especially fun variation. This little episode didn’t fit into my main assassin!Mills story, but it was too interesting to throw out completely, so this seems like the best way to share it. If you like the premise, I’m happy to write a conclusion for it.

CW: mentions of wlw, mlm, group sex, fetishes, voyeurism, dubcon, murder, drugs, alcohol, sex work

WC: ~5.5k

Cipher and Gage picked up their small leather bags soon after they landed, exiting the airport hand in hand. Cipher’s steel toe boots thumped loudly on the tiles, his long leather coat rustling with every casual move of his tall, broad frame. Gage sized him up out of the corner of her black-rimmed eye, appreciating the sexy, disheveled swoop of his sandy hair, the frosty glint of his blue eyes, his sharp jawline dusted with a few days’ growth of beard. Her eyes wandered lower, to the tight black tank top that peeked out from his unbuttoned white shirt, the studded belt drawn tight around his narrow hips, and the tightly coiled muscles of his legs working under his equally tight pants. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on him in the car. Their quick encounter in the airplane toilet was too short for her appetite.

She walked briskly in her six inch shiny leather boots, barely reaching his shoulder despite the added height, feeling the chill in the airport as a gust blew under her scandalously short skirt. A man walking past them balked at what the blown up material revealed and she giggled to herself. Cipher squeezed her hand tighter and walked even faster in retaliation, leaving her to practically run to catch up with him. They barely jumped into the stretch limousine parked and waiting to take them to the rendezvous point that Rostov decided on when Cipher pulled her roughly onto his lap and glared, squeezing his large hand painfully around her thigh until she squirmed and pouted, removing her round Windsor sunglasses and giving him a plaintive look, all innocence and invitation. She had often remarked that it didn’t serve him any good to get all worked up over other men ogling her like that; if he wanted an attractive and flirty wife like her, then there were consequences to deal with.

They had enough time to redress and clean up as well as could be managed on a backseat when the limousine pulled up on Museum property. The partition rolled down and an Acquisitions operative pointed the barrel of a gun at the pair.

The heavy metal door creaked and moaned as it was pushed open for Adriane. She entered the small circular cell, windowless and bleached by harsh white halogen lights, where Cipher and Gage sat bound and gagged.

Without gracing either with eye contact, Adriane walked briskly, sweeping an elegant circle around the small cell, her heels clacking an ominous rhythm on the concrete floor. “In a moment, you will be separated. You will never see each other again,” she spoke the chilling words quietly and emotionlessly, as though to herself, as she circled the young pair like a crow awaiting carrion to feast on. “Whoever talks first will go free. The other will not leave this place alive.” She tossed the last words over her shoulder as she slipped like a shadow out the door and it closed heavily behind her.

She was not negotiating. She was not trying to entice them with anything only to pull the rug out from under them, as other people they had dealt with in the past had. The pair understood the danger they were in as they locked eyes, determined to leave this place together, and alive.

30 minutes, my office. A, the letters scrolled across the beeper in your hand.

When you arrived, with a minute to spare, you were feeling pretty smug about yourself that you managed not to be late, to say nothing of the fact you were chosen as the operative to be entrusted with this last minute, highly sensitive task.

Adriane’s office looked like the wardrobe department of some grungy photo shoot, with distressed denim, faux leather, fishnets and studs galore. Racks and racks of clothing were hurriedly rolled in, no doubt for the purpose of outfitting for this impromptu exhibition you were going on.

“Our guests have a meeting with their prospective employer this evening. We intercepted the coordinates Rostov provided and took Cipher and Gage on a detour here,” Adriane informed as Mills strode out from behind a rack with an armful of clothes. You looked from him to Adriane, wondering if this was some test and her omitting he would be there was supposed to catch you by surprise. Satisfied you did not betray your heart jumping into your throat, you diverted your attention to the racks of female clothing surrounding you.

“Won’t he know we’re not them? You know, when he looks at us?” you asked too snarkily for someone who knew Adriane wouldn’t waste anyone’s time if this was a real concern.

“Rostov doesn’t know what they look like. Both he and our guests are too discreet in their dealings to allow something like that. And the private party you are attending is designed to ensure privacy. At least where your faces are concerned.”

You felt a nervous knot tie in your gut, thinking ahead at what the night would more than likely demand of you. “And their stupid nicknames?” you asked, forcibly casual, as you pressed a red plaid skirt to your hips, wondering if it would even cover half your ass.

“For the same reason. They are decently intelligent, cautious people in their business dealings, even if their behavior otherwise is questionable. Under different circumstances, they might have been potential operatives for the Museum. As it stands, their use is limited to a single outing.”

You followed Adriane to her laptop computer, as thick as a briefcase, sitting in front of her leather chair, with a video paused. Scattered on the desk were photos of Cipher and Gage, taken over the last few weeks, as evidenced by the changes in the color and style of their hair. They were photographed several times in rather compromising positions, not that they seemed to mind. Gage was always smiling brightly when her hand was shoved possessively in Cipher’s back pocket, and he was not shy about embracing her in a town square and kissing her with what you personally deemed to be an excess of tongue, with both his hands on her ass, peeking out of another too-short skirt. Frenzied moaning and the squeak of leather grabbed your attention and you looked up at the video Adriane played.

“This was just over an hour ago, in the back of the car we sent for them,” she informed, looking unimpressedly at the screen.

The parallels between you and Julian were not lost on you. Two people, outrageously in love, killing for a living. Except the pair rutting wildly in a limo were free to be out in the open, not concealing anything from anyone, while you could only look at Julian askance and steal brief moments when you were sure no one was looking, which was hardly ever.

“The girl has great stamina,” you quipped, averting your eyes discreetly. From their copious, almost defiant public displays of affection, you didn’t imagine either would be bothered to know a few people had watched some blurry, low resolution footage of their intercourse, but the aversion was for your sake, not letting the Museum make a voyeur out of you. It was enough they made you a ghost and a killer.

“You need to become Cipher and Gage for the duration of this Exhibition,” Adriane underscored. “They are ruthless, reckless, and passionate. Their reputation precedes them in Rostov’s inner circle.”

“We understand,” Mills assured, seeming to imply that even if you didn’t quite get it, he did.

Adriane came up to stand next to you and snatched the blue tinged, white rimmed sunglasses off your face, replacing them with a dark, edgy pair more in line with Gage’s confirmed style. “Rostov is a hedonist with wild delusions of grandeur. He will try to flirt with you, and his demands are known to go far,” she informed in a tone that signaled you were to go along with it, as far as necessary.

“I’m cool,” you shrugged, stomach twisting with disgust you were still not entirely able to suppress.

“He will likely flirt with you too, Julian,” Adriane said in the same demanding tone to him.

“Mh,” he grunted vaguely, shucking on a leather biker jacket and ruffling his hair, as he studied his reflection, deciding if it all came together just right for Cipher.

You barely contained a grin, thinking of this scrawny little man, twisted with perversion, trying to entice the architectural marvel that was Julian Mills.

A clink of metal on hard wood rang through the air. “Put these on.”

Julian made his way to Adriane’s desk first, picking up the two rings with discreet tracking devices installed inside. He deftly slipped the smaller one up to the knuckle of his ring finger and let the other one drop. You followed moments behind and picked up the ring off the desk. It gaped around your ring finger, looking too big even for your thumb.

“Doesn’t fit,” you dismissed, setting it down and pushing it towards Adriane.

“Let me,” Julian said lowly, his long, thick fingers wrapping around your wrist. He brought your hand up and twisted the ring off his finger, sliding it carefully over yours and inspecting his work when he was done. He seemed to approve of the way your hand looked adorned with his wedding ring.

He then picked the other ring up and set it in your hand, expecting you to put it on him.

“Do I have to love, honor and obey?” you looked up at him as he offered a waiting hand. His silence filled the air with crackling intensity and you fought with yourself not to look away.

“Just obey,” Adriane answered for him and brought the moment to an end. Without ceremony, you slipped the ring on Julian’s finger and turned away from both of them.

Obey, you scoffed inwardly. Love was easy. Honor, you conceivably could. The only demand they both had of you was the one you struggled with most.

“You leave in 15 minutes,” Adriane informed as dispassionately as ever.

Before you left, curiosity got the better of you. “You got all this information out of them… Which one cracked?”

“They both did, of course,” Adriane gave a serene, composed smile, assured in the Museum’s methods.

“So who got to go free?”

Adriane blinked and for a moment, you had the distinct sense a huge grin would slice across her face. A jeering, hideous one, mocking your naiveté. “You should go get ready,” was all the reply she would give, and all the reply you needed.

As you descended in the gold-adorned elevator, on your way to the armory, Julian was quiet, looking at his panel and committing every detail of the plan, of Cipher and Gage’s history and activities, of intelligence on Rostov - all he could - to memory.

“Why was I chosen for this task?” you asked, choosing the opposite approach to Julian’s and clearing your mind before jumping into the task at hand.

He was silent as you descended for several levels and you started to assume he had not even registered your question. “It was an opportunity to improve your field mechanics,” he answered like a politician on the campaign trail.

Silence then followed from you. “Field mechanics,” you repeated, deeply unconvinced.

He turned and looked hard at you, pleading with you to hear what he was not allowed to say. “Adriane is under the impression that we are convincing as two people in love.”

It was not a compliment. The words had the cadence of a slur, and his tone of regret. It was not a good thing at all. He narrowed his eyes, satisfying himself that you took his meaning correctly.

The warm sunset, full of purples and oranges, gave way to a fine evening as you drove outside the city. As soon as you exited, you donned your masks as a precaution, wary of how far Rostov’s eyes reached. Yours was a white mask that extended into a crescent moon shape above your forehead and under your chin. Along its edges and around the eyes, the mask was outlined in silver and small stars twinkled along its face. Julian’s mask was white and gold, representing the sun, with five curvy rays creating an inverted pentagram around the smooth white face of the mask, adorned with golden arabesque designs. You looked at each other once the masks were on and the eerie blank canvass they presented, not knowing what face and expression they hid, was chilling.

You joined the scattered trail of other cars, uniformly black and armored, as they traveled noiselessly down a private road that would have been impossible to find without very specific instructions. The road was maintained to perfection, allowing you to glide smoothly down and weave its serpentines as they appeared without the slightest trouble. If not for the heady mix of trepidation and excitement that kept you wired and buzzing awake, you could have been lulled into a dreamlike sleep and sunk into the impenetrable darkness that surrounded you.

After stretching for what felt like an eternity, the road finally ended at a well-fortified gate, where you were ushered in and led up a lavishly landscaped path. A veritable army of masked guards stood sentinel all along the path, the entrance to a grand building and all the way to a sequestered area separated by gold stanchions and a red rope. Neither the host nor the guests wanted the security’s scrutiny while indulging in their hidden pleasures, a mistake that Julian and you were instructed to exploit. Behind unadorned gunmetal gray masks, the guards’ eyes followed every guest as they approached the rope forbidding entrance to the room beyond to all but a select few. There, you were instructed to shed your clothing and don party attire.

Rostov had purchased the magnificent château a few years back and it currently served as the crown jewel of his ostentatious tendencies and debauched proclivities. He restored it to its former glory, and had it outfitted with every modern comfort to boot, ensuring maximum pleasure and safety. It soon became the perfect place to host his monthly bacchanals, a pleasurable distraction from his usual activities of acquiring and testing biological weapons.

Invitations were handed out either to former collaborators who had displayed a keen sadistic and perverted streak, or to prospective talent, like Cipher and Gage, to ascertain if they possessed the requisite depravity of character to join in on Rostov’s activities unflinchingly. Masks and the privacy of the location guaranteed zero risk of discovery and damage to anyone’s reputation that would result from engaging in this sort of activity in a public venue.

With that in mind, you did not hesitate to disrobe. There was little to remove anyway and the mask served another useful purpose in making you bolder by hiding your face and whatever chagrined expression it might reveal. Julian watched, his eyes moving appreciatively behind his white and gold mask, as your skirt hit the floor and you removed your cropped top in one smooth movement. He waited, and at first you wondered why, but quickly surmised he meant to wait and have you undress him. You were proven right when he stepped into you as your last stitch of clothing came off and stood facing you, to shield you from any prying eyes. He did not put it beyond this rabble to be spying on guests as they changed. You slipped his trench coat off and, suddenly aware of your nakedness and his imposing proximity, made quick work of his shirt and pants, unzipping them roughly and making him flinch, before tugging them down just as harshly. Remembering your role, you chuckled, as though you had done it to tease him and crossed your arms over your bare chest, eager for the dress, as revealing as it was. Julian seemed unfazed by being completely naked in a large anteroom and offered the white halter neck satin dress for you to step into. The dress had a large slit in the side and flowed with every step, and the back was left entirely bare. It glided as smoothly as water up your body as he pulled it up and tied it at the base of your neck. He pressed his mask into your neck, in an approximation of a steadying kiss, and you felt the length of his body pressed into you, with the material of the dress dividing you leaving little to the imagination.

Julian’s attire was similarly revealing. A similar white material folded and tucked in around his hips, like the bottom half of a toga, and draped over his torso, cinched over one shoulder with a gold hoop and cascading down like a cape. He looked like an ancient marble statue, its perfection exaggerated by an impassioned artist in ardent love with his model, was brought to life.

The low thump of the music pulsed through the closed door as you neared it, and Julian brushed the bare skin of your lower back with his clever fingers as he claimed your waist, holding you close to his side as you ascended the steps and entered the party.

The renovated château was a blend of showy rococo and sleek modern styles. The dichotomy made for a luxurious experience, striking a balance between the lavish furnishings of the past and the present-day creature comforts, such as telephones, cameras, air conditioning, and modern mechanics. You followed a servant, distinguished by her plain gunmetal gray mask, into a spacious ballroom where the main activities were taking place. Heavy velvet curtains were drawn over the tall windows that lined the walls, keeping the lighting in the room low and atmospheric with only the dimmed chandeliers and scattered candelabras to set the mood. Dry ice created a mist swirling around the floor and ghosting around your steps. Erotic house music filtered in from the speakers embedded high above, and its thumping bass rattled in your bones as it provided a steady rhythm to rut to.

You passed sections of the ballroom, some divided by pillars and more heavy drapery, others raised on a dais, and each offered different activities. In some, more accessible areas, guests mingled and leaned masked faces close to exchange conversation and toasts, lifting only the bottoms of their masks to take quick sips. On a chaise longue, red and trimmed in gold, lay a man with his toga hiked up around his waist, straddled and vigorously ridden by a woman with nipple piercings connected by a series of chains and pendants, and her dark skin extensively tattooed. A small group of people, in various stages of undress gathered around them and commented on the participants and their activity.

You passed onto a higher level, leaving the couple behind you, and noticed that this area had raised platforms around one central viewing point. Each platform had two red leather sofas, one lower and one higher, permitting more positions and participants, surrounded by several waist-high columns. Each column held an object for members to use, either for pleasure or pain. You took in a few, including phallus-shaped implements, ball gags, riding crops, and pliers. In the viewing area, more of those comfortable chaise longues were laid out for those wishing to observe. Several platforms were currently occupied, but one drew your attention. A masked woman had her long legs wrapped around two men, one inside of her, the other inside of the man between them, and the three were being observed by a masked man in a black robe. He was one of Rostov’s inner circle, designated by his robe as untouchable – unless he asked to be – and irrefusable. His build was wrong; he was too young and too fit to be Rostov, so you moved on.

Sooner rather than later, you remembered as the stench of too many bodies fucking in an enclosed space hit your nostrils, you would have to engage in some activity yourself, lest your restraint draw unwanted attention. Even now, you felt appraising eyes land on you and Julian as you passed. You could not blame them. For all the young and attractive participants present, paid or drugged, who walked around and offered themselves like hors d’oeuvres to be sampled, they smacked of sex workers who were only doing a job. Some had the shaky, twitchy physique of junkies, while others had the used up bodies of veteran sex workers. You and Julian, by contrast, were trained by the Museum to be lethal, and having looks to kill was not a mere phrase where you came from. All those lessons in walking runways, learning classical dances, gymnastics, yoga, and the subtle art of erotica over the two years of your training made you both stand out in the most noteworthy way. Every step showed off your bodies, effortless grace and proud bearing; every brush of your fingers against Julian’s sculpted arm promised something more between you, and you felt eager eyes follow you, hoping to witness the moment you decided to take it farther.

The sounds of leather cracking and moans, quickly drowned out by delighted praise or mockery, led you into a large chamber, lined with ornate columns. A red carpet painted the floor red and several servants walked unobtrusively around with smoking censers, diffusing aphrodisiac scents around the cavernous chamber and perfuming the aroma of sex before it grew stale. In its center sat a long table, with a smorgasbord of men and women on top. From your vantage point, you could see two women with their heads between the other’s legs, one on her back, the other over her on her knees, both writhing and exaggerating their pleasure as their surgically enhanced breasts jiggled in one unmoving spot. Next to them were two handsome men on their sides, performing the same act and moaning deeply around the other’s shaft. In the middle was a piano bench with three women of widely varying ages in an embrace, busily alternating positions and acts. Around the table sat the more important attendees, watching, some stroking themselves or others under the table. The first woman you’d seen dressed in a black robe sat on the lap of a bony old man, his skin hanging like wet paper over his frame. She wriggled on his lap from his touch under her robes and pulled up a sleeve to offer her arm. He produced a syringe and injected her with a cloudy substance before resuming his ministrations. Julian walked by and caught the woman’s attention. She reached out for him and he extended her a hand, letting her pull him in close as she arched her back and spread herself across the table for him to sample. Julian loomed over her until she couldn’t wait anymore and tugged on his arm, splaying his large hand over her comparatively small breast, instructing him to knead at her chest. He did so, leaning closer over her so he could swipe the empty syringe from the floor and tuck it into the folds of his clothing. When he accomplished his task, he disengaged from the woman and you could see her roaming hand had found his way in between the folds of his toga and was trying to get in another one or two strokes as he retreated. As his partner, his wife, for the evening, you felt no need to disguise either your proprietary sense or your jealousy. Grabbing for his elbow, you jerked him towards you and spun him out of the way, positioning yourself between the woman in black and the object of both your desires. Too late it occurred to you that it could be huge mistake to challenge a high-ranking member. Your body spoke for itself, like a cat bristling and hissing, ready to claw out any eye that rested too long on Julian. You looked at her hand, suspended in midair as she considered demanding Julian back. With what relish you would break each and every finger, enjoying the snap of each knuckle. The flash in your eyes seemed to communicate this rather eloquently to the women and she turned back to the decrepit old man she was sitting on and threw her head back, her deranged laughter muffled behind her mask. The scene drew many masked faces to turn towards you and examine you with uncanny glittering eyes from behind impassive disguises. They had the eerie curiosity of carrion birds, waiting for their prey to become carcasses.

Julian drew you close, acting possessively, as if the fighting and territorial behavior was part of your foreplay. Grinding his hips into your backside, you felt him stiffen reflexively. His hands squeezed your hips and you threw your head back against his broad shoulder, letting him play out the scene and get you safely away. His hands roved up your body, following the contours of your waist and ribs. One hand slipped inside your dress and drew a lazy circle around the nipple, drawing it into a stiff peak and rolling it between his rough fingers. You let a shudder roll visibly through you and pressed your thighs theatrically together for the benefit of those savoring your reaction, creating some friction and relief. Julian’s other hand snaked up and coiled around your throat as he bent to whisper in your ear. “Fuck,” you heard a guttural grunt as he panted behind his mask, and his strained voice sent a jolt of pleasure through your body. You arched your back into him before you could think not to and his hips responded with a deep thrust as his stiffening cock sought some relief against the curve of your ass. “We should get out of here, he’s--” words failed him and he had to swallow hard before resuming, “he’s not here.”

As you straightened up, trying to find the closest exit point and make for it, one of the marauding sex workers, emboldened by whatever chemical cocktail she was on, made her way to you and placed one hand over the breast Julian wasn’t cupping, and the other around his neck, inviting herself into your company. Not worried about causing trouble due to her rank, you unceremoniously slapped her hand away from Julian, to delighted comments and encouragements from the throng watching on. She tottered like a toddler and you knew a single push could knock her down, and in her state, she likely wouldn’t even feel it. Still, she did not take the hint and tried to touch Julian again. His hand fell away from you and you caught her wrist, twisting only a little before she crumpled into the ground.

As you turned to leave, you nearly bumped into a woman, stripped to her waist, holding a young man’s wrists over an antique letter writing desk. Another woman, with sagging breasts that suggested breast feeding several children, bound in a leather harness, was whipping the youth across the back while an old man in black robes held his hips and frantically pumped. His legs were wiry and crooked and his gut was visibly round as he worked around the protruding flesh to stick his small member into the young man. You squeezed Julian’s thigh in question, as the gesture could be viewed as announcing your eagerness to join in. He wrapped his hand around yours and stilled you, signaling no. Rostov was scrawnier than this round-bellied man. But you were likely getting close.

Julian raised his masked head towards the upper levels of the chamber. All along the top floor were small viewing chambers, like opera boxes, and most of them held a member dressed in black, with a select guest, or guests, keeping them company. It was there he spied him.

Rostov, ever the attention seeker, was the only attendee with a mask made entirely of gold. Noticeably shorter than the naked woman accompanying him, he seemed to be watching Julian too. Without flinching or looking away, Julian stood and waited for a few beats. Finally, Rostov seemed to make up his mind and with a quick summoning gesture, a servant materialized next to you and asked you to join the host on the uppermost level.

As you were led along the balustrade to Rostov, you saw peep show-like personal rooms with acts going on in glass cages. These seemed to be one per box and, anticipating that you were brought here to perform rather than talk, you were grateful you wouldn’t be ogled by a multitude of criminals. Just one.

In one box, there was a woman in thigh-high boots and a collar around her neck, with a leash leading to some unseen master, bound to a velvet-cushioned chair. The viewer was issuing commands on what was to be done to her and you tried not to listen as you passed that box and approached another. In the glass box, a throuple was enjoying hot wax and blindfolds. At Rostov’s box, you saw a naked man wipe himself down as he exited and a pair of servants untied the woman and helped her out of a harness. The truncated scene confirmed what Julian had shared about Rostov and his penchant for more dominant men and submissive women. Gage’s impish and dominant behavior was a departure from that, so you made sure to remember not to play a meek, passive role.

The small man, hardly larger than a child, wore a golden mask that was reminiscent of hannya masks from Japanese theater, with large eyes, and a twisted grimace with a gaping mouth, revealing sharp teeth. Rostov examined Julian first, holding his large hand in his two small ones, looking at the golden band on his ring finger. He gave yours a glance to confirm he had it right, and let Julian’s hand go. As if examining a thoroughbred, he ran his hands over Julian’s thickly muscled chest, the marvelously sculpted ridges and valleys of his arms.

“You hold Gage so close, so very close,” Rostov said in a thick accent and sighed. “I can see why.” He ran a finger over your mask, down its smooth, cool cheek, and lower still, dragging his small hand flat down your chest, down the valley between your breasts. Julian shifted his weight and his chest involuntarily puffed up, making Rostov huff a small laugh.

He walked a few small steps away, into his box, and Julian surmised he should follow. When Rostov lounged on the divan, Julian did the same, and they were at last on the same plane.

“From the moment you two walked in, I had one single thought.” He waited until Julian leaned in closer, tacitly asking for an answer. “I want to fuck your wife,” he stage-whispered, loud enough for both of you to hear. “This is a family, Cipher,” Rostov placed a proprietary hand on the back of his neck, pulling him intimately in. Without the masks, they would have been a hair away from kissing. Julian heard Rostov’s labored breath behind his mask and was sure the man was hard to bursting, though his proportions were such that robes successfully hid on his body what they could never hope to hide on Julian. The man’s eyes devoured him, taking in his body greedily, lust shining in his beady eyes. “We do everything as a unit,” he coaxed.

Julian did not blink. He was playing the role of a man who did not share the woman he loved, and it came naturally to him. Both he and Cipher were the sort to risk powerful people’s displeasure for what they truly wanted. He observed his host, aware of his own intensely masculine appeal and let the man’s desire win out, breaking his determination and making him willing to negotiate.

“Bah,” the little man waved a frustrated hand, “I can see that your wife is not the sharing sort – for a moment there, I was worried she would break my wife’s arm when she was playing with you. And you can imagine the sort of pain in the ass she would be then,” Rostov laughed and phlegm rattled in his lungs. “I’m saddened to see you have the same sick notions of fidelity.” He sighed again and shook his head. “I’ll satisfy myself with watching you this first time, then.” With the matter decided in his mind, Rostov rolled away from him, and servants came in to escort you and Julian inside the glass box, while the pair that was in it before you came back and fell into an embrace with their host.

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#commander mills x you #commander mills x reader #assassin au

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