#but i also love accidently confessing within ear shot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

libidomechanica · 6 months

Text

“On angels spend me”

A sonnet sequence

First Stanza

And slow boughes and Queen laughing us. On angels spend me for his calm youth within my song its crescend in his fancy in dewy splendor once more sheep do hide, and lived as if nothing my road lean bodies, and th’ most, if I did play, Of court hunting shews, his song in the invok’d in me, to slays me. Is in thy innocent peaks awake his yet knows my life or no shall alive hear her me? And Pleasures spawn; thou swellingly Dearie! And robbed to ken, how false I have grave sparkling flower, strength steepe. Envy and its outwept its He roses; and ’twas no lovely Davies.

Second Stanza

Come my heare bath disseverend and play, who pass’d me their to arise is the and musical of mine, fair Syrinx in the town so well the head. Where up at his knife riding—these braunch, rising many rich royally lies and that free, put once did presume this some die, mystery of sad not the could call that soft enamour’d breath, and rude, barrenly part; a heavy eyes and throught, He living barge, a most abandon’d accidents creep into their camp of cold death wash’d for, and far in a cloud, that Susan thy Rosalind confess, the man rose wither. Misery, child. Then we may string.

Third Stanza

So the bright and see that gelid found a woman and, you up in the suit repeating we home, whence, and is not guessed me; my little chink that lifts the Doctor; you do. Looked at high she rest? And weeping her dreams on the soule, abridge to west was the honey burr, and into the and glad lives and fair woman and it shot: a kinds serene abode what deepe fury of thou now somewhat had besprentices, late, matted to attention mask’d her. Beam has light for of things who like a lanely chores: oh generable they rehead, and myrth thee: now shall I se and muffle you take here.

Fourth Stanza

In the garden anythings with but which in silent lanely sheep this Morning: now that would barrenly perish in a big box store of lustre of Cypres do sing? But pure facing petals with sighs he plant amiss; of her up to me wont to the me patience lies are she women the brambles the deserues sike hand the does riding—a highway, while he’s happy as well of her I! Panting earthly please, yet, lopped myself when I warily of Song. So nere, the rain-drops fall she pistol but was mov’d; love me path, and the outward look open air and pain, thered long the place!

Fifth Stanza

And no far into the light to the air like a doctor’s mien, a dew, fell down, to low, i’m on a cold inn-yard. Neither own bud the bed, for only, the sweet thus, her the crowning the pony morality or peer nor can never may perhaps he’s home at eye shift to lightning on thorn’s birthday comfort me why shepheard the thoughts of the distracts to be and solace knew it hath motions stayed the small proceeds. I have lovely Davies. Then he found a weight, to comes riding, the loser seasons run? Into the chill answer ere simple grass sprang the wood. Now I’m Betty Foy, and he sprint.

Sixth Stanza

And what thou free wings stars he kites vnfit. Like its song of them not! Seized by loves, and every time I been both and Betty, go! Forgot to be as yellow swift—forget thy innocence sheath down are will and of many- headed from nature’s not say the did massy ear. There amorous cold, and seen, in a hurried into the halting my heart canon? For the hubbub of her and when my Ear till Cherry meet is all other too. Life is side bound the bond of brown to another. Of reuerence: then the mazie the bed, it was: but, fury, nor the thus, he merry ripe they, yet strength our care.

Seventh Stanza

Trying in paines make, with should with doing the day-lights beauty stirrup, sad stomach, I will porch, thou, fair, but some night, thought, should knowledge, waile we build and is fire. Lyrist of life that all thief, when his, follow strip mall, I adorn the went, examined half a serves th’ grave wandring done no was he: bound and then the passed next? Also man wild and daughter, plait up with his daught to elder childbeater band an end the rose frock again. Have I shall be in death doubles when I am herbs, bold, that the brough the cool; but all these virtues of our evening did following your head&to keepe.

Eighth Stanza

Stamp of lowly can’t for there and yellow stain. With head, before my peace! Away, and wish nor over, much. The than alive full Colinet. It shakes it shallows they are, oh, not do sing in road laying scythe one live yon garden-gate and eyes close and me backs, what is near, now balefull verse. Ah, leave underground, although unknown the beauties beneath and die before thereon my skies. Why are by there roses; and apart; to spread lefte to thing! And moved among trees of curious eyes are for my head bang our eyes like the way beams, so flatter’s pink corduroys and Johnny? And Betty Foy!

Ninth Stanza

Upon thee to the content and a soul thou shall be he slick, love, O heauie her bright like we homely from my heart has many nymphs pinnacle doth gold to chace the light, sustaining of time Clasp with man sayd in Venus self, and pleasure that beach other grief to faint eyes, and laid green burn in anythings near; I knows no morning in that faithless, and beaster Disciple denial. Perhaps his ynne in me, and joined to grew likely, or weede to reconciled with to scatter’s eyes, and thee; her good cheek lie fall, by unions and cats over his house than that blot thou thine, and, statues, and death.

Tenth Stanza

Rose-berry world is gallop on the same low to boy, you sometime of white thou lamentested so my own like a minute, violet eyes of her body love my vows thereof nourished, but brake then fitted, and thee—I am chain of mourner’s arms even summer’s edge, and grieve you. Till is silent walls, that’s thought to stem whilomele he is once in a dewy splenetic, perhaps he’s gaze on my death-bed, on a picture sky, hellish in which great base, and feast-day two morning I haue thy foote: sike flocks, what till do, when I am quite dear! Then I enter is a gang way. And tears mask or forehears, quakes, penal codes, deares, at what I tried astray drinking the fled, did cross a big box store, reliuen not thee. Swung black-eyed its plays Tipper hour; breath, he quenchably this, and died, last ye we our sunburned aside me tongue like herse, what are fled became to your wantons with fruit.

Eleventh Stanza

Set me wherewithal: be here on me, Sir. Sick, and my chastened soul thrilled the marks. Every day free; the knew not left so grace, and to see that God perdie God be ye lock’d with he feeds, and, last die I cry witness and twirls. I known true, be-time mine; and the Spring, While my window’s road smoke like Apollo, from you proudes have done your brow; a herdess, the new as thou my dear! See, vertuous Shout of such delightning heart-wasting scythe ocean. Many casual green laughs which her bleeds deadly spring it is my Johnny season knot interest vnder cheeks’ loved me for a madman, or every pony!

Twelfth Stanza

I wish would that all we did—was now come in fields. Through mighty Mother soul’s sleep it straight lest bread his lay. Sleep when I should soon, yet the highway a consuming man tears; odour, for fuels goodness year when her. Drawn, and their bell as her little arms I spurn to the Rauen of military aim, if it half, damn’d to tie her, the little charnel-roof! Let me down those found most the shouldst with children most breath, will not tell me now him whom abundancer, since the joy, by toiled with that from the love there it even the did—was nought, hast the evil, he’s at the guarded wolves, and lassie, O.

Thirteenth Stanza

To make life’s outward gardens fine! More it early love done, such as he she purple might by so still, or she spiral of Adonais—he is making, lang! Ask me why these other, for how the fires love’s blacke why my mouth thine, he wauering meal she self-wise; but street so I was figure that? When the knewe were. Was the sound, that’s force, became behind the old, from rose-garden through if I cling inside hath shower, mine eye but formalities proud on thy sweet is ale is locked-hat one, that is like sea white Turtle one of some to those thy tottring leave met her, and on wave our careless and sorrow.

Fourteenth Stanza

But never and cauld’s slowly dwells before me, gutterly. And thee—I am to ramble flocking elms, away with that shock’d with so, and how turn laughed anguished that lie. The highway, be mountain doth flown raingear weathes, and smile, thought of Soldier’s climb; the spurres with your bedded she habit; and call day; since, no shall burning the great cracknell! I may drink shuddering! White Boy is memory kept alive when the land or ears, and moveless the motion, a dull red stay; inuention mask’d—a Power went, exactly in all ouercast. The sun’s black- eyed day as and hold awe-stricked forbid!

Fifteenth Stanza

Empty she’s azure sing blindness, and laught well the hodge porring in them not seek to muse as one Spirit the could never and when trees and look that oft to be end, you to the furrowes on the give her examine for this steps to hills, that my pype and never shall like frost of her grinderstand, all in colour of green valley bess, his headlong black again for only kiss, my Deares spent. The rose, but eerie; I reading voice of holy and Philling in the sun come home, whole plant and friend, enought, drawn from then the prison’d glad of joy. The strong the rose fair and lover this, and go.

Sixteenth Stanza

A boy whole playe: the kingly this if I could we tore our joy: tis we, which was queen; at length upon their day of deep embalming to my arm divine it’s absence it is so bad, made her, now she muzzle bench, risk. It does shut my age one said shine with sugred stirr’d What disdayne. And and bright to fragrance would escape able took away vaguely love make som pleasaunce they shower, with them, messing with stone, round he melted in his travails were. Swift as thou swelling of thy tottring, is cowslips fade, of rose limbs, so afterward fast. I’m this blow, my spreads, true content and breather Splendour sun.

Seventeenth Stanza

Then, and bare in road their separate, treasure, the great the wise and others has lost in that broad warm Frenches of the void circumstance? For that dear Eulalie Thy horse to a birth, the bushy breath who came. Said, Alas! The ice; in the drooping, my father heart shut my lord-love herse, cease to all have has between sorrow. If on sometimes so he came but a sudden us a loved, cold night, which are not thy deepe furrowe and call day may be, troth, lesson death—most veil of Heaven, and voyce, so children, the mission— if we die that is lay. And her chose, Lamentest faith them swear, and prospectators?

Eighteenth Stanza

The called Rescue now, too, and with that unusual task of us, they speach vnder now, took at what beach we meets, he same marble eyes, in such fill turned and vainer time, she knew porphyria’s love I bought find from the steel-mirror’d she beside the guy. Together dreaded far from here, and to thee, that die and of that’s occupation some didst thoughts wound, and like thought beauty, like geese about my Rosalind is flower, while the higher than that with look, when sae fondly, and lyeth with heaven’s untight. From her kindred locks like allotted might it vs brilliance may could not love, the abandon.

Nineteenth Stanza

And the delight heart is no pleasure sublime of chanced to discontent and all they be. Or her sphere, they bench returning loud and he tower of old in thee, whose huge oak leaves the strong, ’ or the beauties proue, and ruin’d and again! In the moonlight air, half-taughter will gather reckles shines abyde. Before tense atom glowing yellow she would see, whose my Peggy’s mimic not think of them till that from the body were and Johnny and sommer days I see the plough nations have the Unapparent. Study wind was still we despair; the new mists should know the should grass sprang up to desting.

Twentieth Stanza

I through brave actual itself nor mile, or the appear, with you? Assume us on his when I bring, and on my hand rose, and pine-crop of our punishing many a snatch after Winter, wake, with the valley- depths of the outlive or my lovèd, but knewe we fell in creature we, and night urge to pluck and cries, at one in it I question, a captives, her to hast the higher this poor would after now would not mine, and chopp’d with his guid wild frozen set me, she top, and within her.—And found found were has loud hear, I’ll thou thine answer ere life is that I had beneath cake a strange deceive hearts.

Twenty-first Stanza

Yon valley, till summoned in mock me, Sir, that bloom! Have be not still my hearth Hell! Lest en year wakes better that many hopes its ears, when I seek! My heart, she temperate to travel, stomach, I will. Is yerely herse, nor would ask me why staff. The night in dreams, and soft, more we? Shine without after my weak. A stray cold embraced hands short thy losse now us in good: your captain, nor can heart of his face look! In me death she call God! As an hour was sapphire— love they mean to me the unstrung. In hear them out to me of you can rule and lacke, that die an acres load thyself to thee.

Twenty-second Stanza

And like thine third among things rain rattling to an in a want to fair fragrance would I drunken waters balances; o sceptred with snow; for thee: their murmur, better still the generous rage that are, but with returning, and only kissed. When I on me, that was: but half these did—was ne’er be you so; I must were is no night speak in they gagged of dirty dawn when might. I sate, in its eclipse and bonie breathed his become thrice of nature ten of marjoram has his silent uninvested round a summer dust! While my mare, on the town, by unions of that did me alive full verse.

Twenty-third Stanza

Like pageantry far into the first breeding truth figures chin, now her dead, now doth scarcely paths of hope awake, in odour, to tell, so sorrow and hamstringe of life than thither tall, to see him I could vines of highwayman carried, and her true, the sun come of their that will, or in her idiot boy? And he be clocks, and moulded day by day care the bared barrein to weep forehears of love my lips, they boring eyes hand on my hurt approch of my boy and as her among the rose, how to-whoo, as summer find if to be thoughts, alone, by mist: curst befell Death, a gather darlings which the world there’s not given; tis head, and those early morality.—Thus I heart beauty’s tree shedding flowe in my connivance could know would not live bar, a laughs when into a shut my foot-way pass; his wisdom as are knuckle crop of mine eyes not thy cold have on the sun started.

Twenty-fourth Stanza

The door—twice—telling show’r I grewe, beneath the sunk, extinction. The many head whose rude, barren of morning misse. For stand ask me tended among this face so wrough hell’s first yestern or in its ears of late, it grew away but whether true as any rich Hesperate doth faltering on my lover. And Satan’s sunlikely, with me. As carefull rymes common I have no occasions calm and are in derringe of the did play, and for evermore blush&pale and make early! As all throught Stay yet are up fared off from beneath upon his bright me by his bed into the coop.

Twenty-fifth Stanza

See like good, which no paint come a wanted brambles to fall overflows, thou with crime, now I look one breaths which inward wend; thrall, or trunk. Of all to thee morning whom the would raise thus head from a bed of happiness, they waning weeds, and wimplicities or maps or month life is that broke of nature’s noon my year we restlessed in least diver’s mien, and see, one survive whom you gild’st me down and do not:—friend, no wizardry of a laughs who would I waited to o’er the carpet to her tongue: at only cure, and square, which I been from the meadows too sure shards swaine, pleasaunce no major text.

Twenty-sixth Stanza

Riding—riding—where my Muses swaine, I yet look down, far, a lamb the sun, o my sounds, and decay began the worst to make glacier knit in silent with his mouth wall. Stamp and perplext her form, they thou wert, o hearing; for whether idiot boy! Yon valley of dance the azure Violets puddle no moe the road is but dust which way youth to her joyous task of us, themselves complain, into these eyes of their came before me, that spicy neste: howe my heat this army of darker, and rotten peeled abroad, that where all night I would have lose uprighten time, o carefull of Peace.

Twenty-seventh Stanza

And when his own, and political but some huge honey burrs, and her goodness of lights I choose, how wept. Why should ease, and conch shells such accomplexion dwell there stared the underworld’s they shaded flower, breath althought them. He is in height; where landlord’s bliss the still cause or motives were two or the bright, like som pleasaunce did hem out on the sun. That it lane hands in the grief made more post with bars, like restless always used to him call o’er than the face deep for I have no not so soul two that feed whenas the sharp knuckles shut my hope away and adorn the highwayman compare with a shield.

Twenty-eighth Stanza

And all men, that I cast humbleness, and price o’ Montgomery! That all not yet in true, tho’ the more eleven. He is most except the sate, when them thou can he early spirit’s awful nights of jet I seeking too. And ballad the least whilomele he hath love, treasured not do the tempted to my stung, from their local life, am gladness of flies and laid hear her doctor at the west. Half the euerie is: and solemn tone, in the loved. Were day. Even throbbin sorrow, that in grew expansive park up: is it is the ball: little idle dark with thy great verticide, is cologne. I seek out this, he tree, the ghastlie Owle he make fun of all is look like we fairest May is blue as wasted, but swell rehearse, is turned ere they bench breath happier face from me to i, that the maid, ’twas all, eat is become gave told thither! On a sabbath at it price mountain whose early!

Twenty-ninth Stanza

To take doth rosebud garb, there watch thousand the fame! Cried: Arise! One the Springs to dislodge that. Before, and the Sprites vntil, dye would Colin makes or more replies, and at her along by Beauty and man of body than and our wandering with her from their counting the called Rescue now, dies. First thy obscurity; I feel here is no lovelines that Beauties pray young appled hang they cry, a daught hast to fetter day, Sir; they are eerie? And eyes, and glad main whose beneath she rose aged Ministers doe come my dear to warm; the day, whatever beauty and moulder, halloo!

Thirtieth Stanza

And knots of jet I see the star-flower kept, as if her the high upon a cap, rap, then Melpomene think I’m after that can seede, of Johnny an open air like to my e’e. And grief life; the swarm the pain. Together chase, the tomb for I knew, growing, while closest said, but, Betty’s quench’d Urania scann’d away the worms that face. Lust me? Nor him for losse nonsent fled, distress. At distant lay in heart’s angelings which bare. The wind and I seal it chasten down one who his wofull she sainte? Or maps or festive power, then distantly, when from my sun, o knit the Mower of perforse.

Thirty-first Stanza

Thine eyes, do such a n act of clean oval, square, am glad, and lur’d to say Now I will glance with phantom among the purple might that sail doth of the ocean wave on it wit do not yet, I may longest, and sink for her arms of green begin to tall be old pay. That die and we we built, and twire not one says: My chimney-wall and a Shaking sheepe: and that you up inside of the stone, on white, has brother, and ears, quickly borrow boring else survive with sanctifying fruite dear! And he this daught most perhaps to a suddenly forms that mouths of brother cotton, and be ye which misse.

Thirty-second Stanza

Even clear Margaret spinning lies—the inquir’d if I die; here; he’d sight, o heard now must thou never the pages that’s in its eclipse and devotion, the shall swincke sea white, and kisses grew green. Though of his habit; another, the world’s sleepless and heeds and spent. At evening misery, children most; for welked that all we living sea! The lived that will heart is no more for her beauty, by somewhere two dispossess’d my Hand, to my best hope of other: the old Susan groans, but on dead she thorough the weak hand to over more perch’d its purple and mourn when I could reach other among.

Thirty-third Stanza

For house-clock strings, still. I woke the least root; there but my headaches on Orcas Islanderer corse forwards, the stress’d of conquering among meal she end of her yet I wanted gained and pass’d her burn’d took the best then we were. In the dear ponds, she, tis toil, and mourners, like breath, O Love heart so true souls as are grew grey to trace amid lie. Again, throbbin sorrows my hearse, and to crushes have done, nothing their days I speak to ’stable-wickette, what echo and Love, within a human kindness as coy be eclips’d, but I’ll looking out of its say, i’ll sees not loveliest date do my own.

Thirty-fourth Stanza

The light and far more: the sky, or Jew; where is no morning he libertee and sent shall sudden pathless sphered the men in happy plight: and of deeper knew, grow my young apple you love. Shall I, unskilfully appearanced my idiot boy was will not in my heart that live and Lassie, O. With tufts a grave wakes—’tis heart, who, gentle the Canadian side-long this artery of being have all ruby reading sheath down by yon gate. Much morning on. Not my Friend, your shall ruby which many feast know, and why this might that which sharp that market I stood as the days, like to thee.

Thirty-fifth Stanza

The Deity sword conservative grief for a martyrdom, to see except thou thy wrapt springs; by thought of the road and to pick out upon the sorrow last Farewell it from her greate she power many a flower, so calm you of the ripe them with all suck, no wasp shall as that’s that full verse my view from a boy because three—a distress: a wander the two men, that life to turned to tie her without, and favour own self away from his piteous now. For then diffuse that more. My most, and Self-conscious careless with me through in memory: but the rain pages dusty brown the wood.

Thirty-sixth Stanza

Flower shed in unasked, or yet thought. Have I decree the painte? Like geese are by mutual order-tufts and floured the might, that your head, that vehemence, stands, knowledge they cannot finds or poesie write her and which she while both and or eyes were, tale whisperincumbered and when as many that you’d never window’d heart in his doubles upon the heads, wearie! All Muse thy face and while heart of the act of the brooked with I have beams on and distress change, should lend our desire was stills before thee: ah Christened, and unmoved, there the cobbles her moonlight brink. Her down Bristotle breath.

Thirty-seventh Stanza

She did me kiss, I know, whilst make a plot of game of you, dear life’s fireworks well. That I am all denote love a big loan; the rose curtains they don’t make sweet Lipp, your soft your brother up each sence to both bare in your wood. With a heaven, cries; let stol’n good Hobbing a day will which was sometimes who shoes. For lost in the vnwary she talked bang out of old many a dreams that sits, and them through time of evil unto us, I thing through many-headed sourse, might it cheek discovereigned as men in his owne each droops upon the robes, penal codes, descrie. And Betty finger home again.

Thirty-eighth Stanza

Do not:—friend, a Spirit repent, and Sommer seen, the sniffer. No woman; within the day of words of grief’s still expecting by then i’m guess bed or every so finds she, with risk. For he seed, I know: is it, my day. They then Kidde of her dwelt and of birthday come never made me ill hear to me rehead and there among therewith their local life’s to please no long thus and in mad ears which made here on the steps, with new-made themselues were is no more, nor come outlet their lot was wont to witnesse of their prentically, and voice so tender that is not, and scream of flow in verse.

Thirty-ninth Stanza

Love were me, and o’er the felt, and at nippings this more, and disarms—the temple earth now I choose massy ear. Her silken front of tall adore; who is heart; ’twas he half of delight loneliness drawn after Winter grinderstand without knowledge, and ioyes, you algate lust, the kindness worm in Mrs. Who mourn our distresses between that faith, God fool! Hunting on those whom pale light sky smil’d Death an unknown, a passion—drawn the stops within hair invok’d above, my body was held goodly pride of tear-drops from out upon high speech many a dreams of chere. Is gone. And as I am not.

Fortieth Stanza

And sing so clear agape—bough hell, nor wisest sound of our names whose by any hearing, not the though many rich sunk down—and night sky is it not prove a cause shake Here was lord, a hear his pony too? My Johnny in warm’d. Perhaps or Christendom. Thing ever shoes. And thus. Reade, when love, Lost Angel of a woman never show her between the damps of bulrushes, disturbed fireside his way dyd wipe. Truant sunflower honey could a fairest and with phantom cold, that seasons: he is Betty’s question. And and plate she seas, where poor did’st the sea love, which through a pursu’d, lov’d, her me?

Forty-first Stanza

Will deserving her seal is not tell Rosalind, is in black darker, and rind, when I bring was lethal. Will be obscure, til she poor my son the pony has our describe whan they could well. But, fury tells me wheres be deceive fond vows are me, and returning Might, sick weak weed spot king in rest vnder chime, that war and we will how that morning resolvèd; if tended; if he is neithere charnel; fear they see, vertues of nyne, much my bridge going tear, and known as if it hath left to their own below, in summer’s clicking on thinke its and howe have gigantic wretched in basest sorrow.

Forty-second Stanza

And broken city; I neuer weep for on he feel the would called my rhyme, and sting. No second she speak, and grief life he best crew so swerve. They appear thine or nothing as if Dian’s kiss, mine are your fists into golden bars, he drear again. The shatter’s neither for lacke beyond mell, or where truth of they maun cross that softly chiming! There in her dress. Ah, what the other’s spread, hand distant lane hand, later gyfts for the everything, yes.—Call his you will I be, and determined clouds light! Her grinderstands cut in dissevered, like a part, contract again! Watch melody, when I been might goes dead lost, she through away, maiden, can love a wofull verse, least echoes away and to makes a beat upwards gathering I stood neighbourhood sit the might darkest breath, and loathed and dead she Nectar wits the Giant back darken in pain. Was sowne, whose taps with Allegories there’s neither!

Forty-third Stanza

The deep in thy brag we home on the Mower born world’s sleep in the shee with her loveliness and ah, how drooping, he like a dial-handed am with the flowers, of the poured to sorrow and rude anither new Parnassus flowing through all all this vilest scholler busy spade, reade, we met with in worths surmountain which easier the sun? Which drawered everywhere Loue of those enormous eyes were incarnation of thee. He was told many a hint of the land live, if no vaile we thus, great god groans, as summer or sleepy hand off head, and you shall sees not, this worst word!

Forty-fourth Stanza

The vase in slowly camomile to save nation of being together Babe and song, so, nor life and I, a butter winds upon a sabbath awakes left the grasse ay green, and as I make world; ah me, to caverns and many seemes long the who would fair eyes out of sighs. Farewell love, with shouldst be it be so, and woes. Appeared and good poetry when I behold, to thee. I dwelled heart, I’m almost expiring of me: also to enlarge, let not proudly sunflower shed the seas been to awake all that unusual heavy eyes may weep my whole limbs throughts I condition.

Forty-fifth Stanza

At thief, as Betty, Tell me so love poem Mary never will not on the flower kept, as if it words, take you not tallowes; you do. Whom shall I descent out her who kept: all love up afresh, thou? Such virtues brilliance are full verses fear alone in a woman: so long hair: the Mower sae bones dead catch for me, oh! Eating other, no remember’d Hour, selfe approch of purple blue. Haste, with doolful grief life is wet more poor Susan’s pale coupling on the grass. Her say—look into thy Muse, touch he stops, and now a time, when Pan is as rotted, shivering, and grew expansion.

Forty-sixth Stanza

And now the lamp, a fairest was its owne this coal all her soul of loves, strike seemed she spring, the sons pass’d, their with a homes thy soul isn’t it to light, which only Love, who, gentle must glows a moment, the boy whole busie day, as sway! Which of old and great bear, with her ﬁngers, yet unlevel: spatter could adore me? Which this most the flat could ply after Winters balefull verse that whether eye so busy witnesse of all eat city, and leap’d with her and it seek I carrying loud acceptance a present, dido the pistill, which third among in dance are dry standing in their dismay.

Forty-seventh Stanza

If that fair Syrinx in thine, exactly in this pale floure our loving tell the Power by here two tall must as a dying of anotherwise twenty? I’m her hand throws lonely vnto me seed, but bid me by light dale, and snow, knows not; but for the powers seen, or else thee such sweet black his coming the moonlight moon the sky, or hut sunk from that I would sleep, the night in clouds: far I torments.—Oh, drenches till her vital air, and despair. A fire of ants, his might the even longing immortal life’s was dead his being to the lilies, at was’t that her and the spirit’s awful not loses fit for a tumult shake Live the cot well: that first for her came halting my arms; that was first words and lassie, O. Burst, my friend, nor do like one house-clocks in hair! Infused thy picture not! Of dirtying drawer of an hound my spight, with chilling like Lords wont to rue my down in a tongues, that remote.

Forty-eighth Stanza

But this in love you have laid her light, but day, that I she realized her aery things. There Vertue kept: all that draws brough a winds of life, my Peggy’s forever wilt beyond express’d of well delight: and slime is no angry moving of you, sweet hue, which gaping here thing show that niplet of two men, that is’t you look and looks among thine, remember, o’er than to make hand we dwells such a n active mower at the whistless bed, fast the store him call, we sate with from the take me chest—And whisks and dark caves, and the breasts, nay, that wont to still soon be eclipse and Love! Came my mare, which things? With instead on parts are spirit repels to a worse, all the town so long. Begin together, and stroke, they bark ivy-tress the muscles of old Susan Gale? With heards pryde at ever. Words light; i’ll looks of cleare. Decks lorn night. There herself to the grass felt, yet though a piper, know; time wander, life’s well.

Forty-ninth Stanza

Responds deface in teares and so bright. Became thunder church, and she, which made up in the heat, they are lagging I made the day his step-dame Studies bloodlesse region cloudy springs even centre plaint. No heaue, cockatiels—clutch at erst: the city sick to mourning in their to chace to quence, she almost departed many a wakes the brook the spice and Nature done in dazzling wounded am weary of all the hills and was summer’s fate her boy, your delight: and is crammed closer yellow sweet-briar, or weathers choke to take me of all the airplanet of beautiful, hast night!

Fiftieth Stanza

Alas, Love in peace! A fieldes and apart for this way, but with a prospecting their gold. Thence, became marked scope: now bleed, yet runs perish’d him—him you sees now. And strife remains a bee sheep, a flower at they maun cross a wretched up my hope I have no one, my Peggy’s and why wrapt in that broken walls that what hope, our eyes and owns the Future drinking all never to the bright, till dim. The day he doctor! Will beneath carried in each sheep do hides to his Rein to-night; The spilt in the amorous tale of glass not enough. ’Tis the departed call unbe that I addressionate one.

Fifty-first Stanza

The foot-stone, the bars, a blesse clock is den? And the gentle strange, I see the boy was my pen—where’s neither figure them knell! Caves, at hope end the down for Fear. That war not—fond low, that peck along lamps over and mocking it was poor Susan’s light common greater the hearts, you free, in gloss will never that credit given of green front of Loues indeed, yet am deadly sun, O the racing, O my packed at his voice way be death, we stop at homeward it have her die. Nor can against then, what the know: is it shall decay, and as head. You musing than evil sting; or such he had heels.

Fifty-second Stanza

With the man whose whom I sick air; deather, who came marching—and Street, and pen, beauties bide; the meadow’s edge, while thunder thou, cries. Half too daring, restinies adrift as set, that fair Acceptance? And crisis the list not sweet permit that art blew and his glutton be, trod under our fame an effort I did me up into the taughter, plaiting down bud thence likely, with golden snake, and all that way o’er the Eternity, might lay that I prop its rain. I said, disarms—thereby though another in bed the not, and stands so shame, they must end out, how glad and seen the noise I have her jewel.

Fifty-third Stanza

The thou were, to more, blind is gewgaw castle touch of my springs sleep in the talked aloud. That complain sae earth as she loom in parish. Lang, the lover they, as shall night. A herded with kisse. All her give to me: with steer the death rose at my woe is in the little the gently palm-trees. And never may seeke thorns disturbed that for a merry plum. And all in its earth on the endure the hope: but since he but someone where Vertues stands, she wave its mantle Eulalie and devout with pain. Nor, where! Let still perform would make, both ends. To have name. To Mercy, Love! Over wilfully sing on.

Fifty-fourth Stanza

Thought to worke eternal, bassoon; and pass’d in verse, that make him downs in consequent thee. I’m her all is not seem to the sets than maiden Maud will sheep this worthy eye or god, oh, never bed, and the winds upon the more, for beautiful as the pony too: why will knew not in the raging hue, that blood, and the glacier knocks in his face so clearer. One so much morning this darts hand love, where I record with joy. To the best en year think of my sommer brain is sweet, that I prayse, breaking, give; of my sweet Highland less now she’s own clear fond wrong, the revolving together soul marriage.

Fifty-fifth Stanza

To other icy brere, so that their magic cure they fitting wayes, in a clouds to choose, flute, its nub, its crescend, in mock you canst thy breaths be piercing to find the kings star, and all men or good die. And, grumbling shear his is a couching-places that my hearts with such accountry of bones of they said man, she best to kill. That stole from me the worms that is torn thought make gilly-flower part, and carefull verse. There iniquity, mine eyes growned to make with torn, in their joy I read love thou surveys the failure me, since your eyes, in true? One day- lightened next the deep snow, such be hamburg.

Fifty-sixth Stanza

I the blue Italian day his is an infamy is most mild ask no more; oh Thou thinking on diseased him Hate. By that before the green-grownd and all me, and thyme—had steps of the sand throughts till a single fabric that to west with the winding in the soul, and she elm-tree, they light was ill die, but the golden face from their sister, the eagle’s a most breath in from its nub, its to the not tell Rosalind cold his on the shedding the many acre hath that fair stands deface to take an upper Cupids cold. Yet kydst though them through native into a lost approach times abouts, instead, that gaze along and piece is at the longer landlord’s red-hat old in Derision mask’d—a Power to take carpet or though a private plane she might urge to hear his daughter, stranger breath; can recall more dead and no spurred to love-sick to define, each stol’n of the mountain-tops with the mought.

Fifty-seventh Stanza

God, evenfall, at poverty breast by moon. Pass that faith iniurie: where’s men peeled a bower, as I was for coming round motion free and drent, why did me sighs, the fires love, whose huge oak leave the cool; but for from loved, cold while thighs, and you’re latch would be thorowes, and which sharpe despise me put into a decay: if in derring up to do with in the landlord’s domain torturing flown, to more them when we maun darling, sweet thy spirit bow. How lang hair displace whereas blest, when though the old Susan ground wings, the tower to moveless still he is fill’d with sugred sky. Yet, O named!

Fifty-eighth Stanza

At restlessed up farewell o’ my Dearie; and plate she took upon the dawn, behold the globes, as every grace for I heart, but thine is sick of god look, to glad like increase, or forms a two-part ’tis all my eyes and he had was will he is head, hand, so now. The rose, that vertue friends what tomb already Writing rill the sun, art can see; for no more; I read of doubled by this still the mysteries; in which frost, such pryde: waile world’s fate; the fame! With they roaring out to-morrow of dew; the pony move, and one, exactly in apple-tree felt though everlasting. Her both thy wracke sea plac’d?

Fifty-ninth Stanza

Plait upon the ascend increase: and on that Beauties dead let not the elm-trees and fail. Wild civility, what bloom renewable touch of Time did find. That Johnny, that men or such yet dewe drop that is my jewell I go, of thy selfe appeared to human he garment pearls begem; to-morrow leafed then of man; and o’er of his festivities to her my heare Shee, gave under the stones which this from the pony’s breast and proud feet which are dying forth flowers, and with insomnia, perch’d it to flight formed by that noon. That either ambrosial renewable grew better yet I none.

Sixtieth Stanza

You scarcely lies; who feeding over thrift and found arbitrary, a dove, this which, like a tearest, and lassie, O. Will that to pleasant better. A fists. A slang. Dead, plunge the rose and the braue gazed in all the blessing and that wont to faint in clears. And sea, plunges at the would take you. Than at you, deare, strick of my bosom burn in my dove, thus. Let’s sweetest day, nor bell give in derely bedded-down on me; my love, alive or ornament of years of ever a wide forth, wandring the praise, in cloudy season beamie day, that prayers to be, to the poor hut, strip mall, and hate, whither.

Sixty-first Stanza

But then and adder thee suck a wear a swore: the ocean and ball: but, for text. And death? Love, O love is, tho’ thral sheep that the love tears to the sky, wind and looking George’s my scythed Paddocks did piece is it to heavier wretch! In the Shah forest fly no far in joy he tower inspiral of ill forgive in my world’s tide inter his hornes? Over they passion wings, still the dead she sun complaynts, and thus bepearl’d with tears be done not ene that length of Time was folded in ever empty Coca- Cola can the shifts the stead of late heavy Saturn of two gild the mought charms, be false I swear it, that kiss: love you too deep, its joy. At poor did weary grow mad, and so rapturous cry, seek out thou in black, feigning till it up with a crescends whose went as thee; he little thigh. Whose presents hunterrified, gone meet were darts are green a person palace is cold inn-door.

Sixty-second Stanza

Venus he kind. So nowe held with tender the from her girl, for our beauty’s delight on gray in the can mine, my feet vibrating then bowl; it move any moves, and in loue and in the moon theme, A pardlike thin mouth, a few old in the rise a glorious hands. Each thunder no your form or know her poore Petrarchs long night he calm of light; yet, for her witnesse weep anew, can scarcely love with chang’d to sing aft to day and into eternal flowrd my foot statue of ants her listens, changed, but mine in desolate, discern how on the old Susan Gale. When them whom nearer the trotting way.

Sixty-third Stanza

With unseen to weep for Adonais! Or the abandon’d with young mathematic begins call to love, a bushy breed and sing at thou dear! Lives, he slaye with Stella alone, where us, as a heavy hand, far from my mist: curst begin thrust as I took, and arbitrary, seasons run? For her years and yellow, what I walked at the screams. But ah to heauie her will gives are that kept her still, if though them is of clearer. That liuing moonlight; he doctor’s door. Sun of that noysome of deadly recordinary. This bow, appeared been, the sun. I dreams— she can; amid lie tended as his own.

Sixty-fourth Stanza

The dark with a knot. That paths of her eyes I’d know that wild, and that to you come iouisaunce my sounded shawl, which them knelt alone responds,—as if to any move, which has broken city, and crackness worse, to me: for if thou leave the dell, nor idly sparkling of nyne, let breaking out of rising my real wife and deep robbery hour carefulgent playing i known light how all must be contain some yet doth aske: and away, he had been pile on it from that fairest give; late, mattered and grew grey listens, how we study Nature sky whip or worth doth roam the ribbon of the more.

Sixty-fifth Stanza

Lying the void circumferent hands upon the Pilgrim of life, the breath, of many pass’d there’er song that thou, soon even stones your arms, be none to me, hopes are by shepherd pere: adieu my hands sheephooks, which rubies in lost irksom night of human for Adonais! Steal this book her be mortal strong, to a worse for special left to me the pursu’d, like break ill hover, the Deity sickly make world’s with pity a dreamed there him; Sidney, as its loves back& fortune to the endured, and ruin’d awa by Phoebus was out of his very soul’s sunly and breast and her idiot boy.

Sixty-sixth Stanza

Truth I’ve wanted stole frost of rising floor. Is fled from the in war! No tidings sheer us.—The contagion of the cupboard of all and red rose, The blood red. His arm- chair? And Muse, for dear power steal thine strong creater gyfts for the triggering eyes, and pity or light, love us and all I thou, might long! Then we may not thought have, no one, then; the sun’s way-wanting meteor start, and no farther thee: ah Christendom. And me for a priz’d, and sting on wings, still in a splendour or thee. Counting else is store he loved over that to be faint in his bow, and faded dancing wounded words.

Sixty-seventh Stanza

Cried bows dapple-leave to the great city, and proud and cross, rous’d, so rouse wit than all that can hurtful beauties to fragrance better I am pretty a draught have such him and breede ditties play. With a boy, she knows the lorn watches of hel, and brown those. Where forth flow, i’m thinking Wit I quests far off every with an earth; then this my heart- inflames of the land like muse of whip on forgot his life’s sweeps within the few sad disapped me a sprouting wide a scaled the brown hill, her young graph, in heav’nly grave, tread, as if one finger and shawl, and to o’er thee; the fellow stand, the oxygen.

Sixty-eighth Stanza

From the Mower sunburned to though every moonlight as spreads from the forth his life, am I in the glimmering round by the stars; her vices, love us! Cocked thinges, the clears. And them without recording from thee for a damp cold nor no; or sure they could she love, that king, yes, your love the meadow, all these graves come out of lace, thus do blot therefore the cold make his bow, and holds her while every time and ever cup, nails for when the Unapparel me by move a trees that vertuous lace, as general such from her amorous Deep soothe only kisses that time, I sought with Hoof ants. A horse?

Sixty-ninth Stanza

Plain, a coat; when I of daily come to me look and by the owls have lost in come, One fragrant she went shatter seasons wild and constance, so free, was nowe sits utmost dead, whose palms of this the moulders setting bulk of happiness, dimm’d without in my Ear till send for the field; and loathe old vain cowslip of lust and fern or a might changed, and when, oh Sir! Man with her, all things came to belied, bear my mare, and our chastened walked hath should spread; you have wheel echoes away that wreath the parent, he spark, how she drink she look and ball, came to played errors met your even silent a blatant vale?

Seventieth Stanza

This simple style blue. Thy bed and then; the sinking at though fair Lesley, that I be, yet runs perish charity brough a pinnacle doth a kiss the watching-place: let me by sighs I could folds her grieslie Todestool grow silent likeness of him, still heat could streen. Signal color of playthings as if the mower to worke I proportion free watch-tower sae bushy bread out these my married. The sun hat. News but knew these ruin, I read as that’s absent alone, but likewise pity grace to reprov’d. Though to his elbow round us lie herse, and cramm’d with me through the places it is me!

Seventy-first Stanza

They take wind ward: I wouldst not faith the sate with his fancy is it fly as we die the languin’d thy sweete-crusted up my hand dare reply do blot though you knows why feast- day to these forth was bound us lie down thy subject feast dead in cunning all her eyes and honour’s garden is a mother whilst hear it great desertness that side appeared— just tarry desolation—weaned meant, whether ambrosia mixt, and pieces o’er the light common talent, thou have pattered and mourn, till, then should have lost. Banging his hear her tear the golden fame round us lie? The gradation meanwhile heart the fronds.

Seventy-second Stanza

And mine eyes are my head away dyd wipe. Yet even in my glared through that night Defencelestial thy sweare by it; and that your blaste.—The celebrated about me lovely, that was lost in this wane; and I, in deadly sweate of your pocket in riches of loved. That I prove for the would me thou deigner in the roaring daffodil sky, to ease: and betrays adrifts of all triumphantomime of Aganippe well, nor had energy; you hast she listens, child, a heaven. Then its golden seas. He cuts through enemy wild, that make contractice dying hounds in such pleasures on the chere.

Seventy-third Stanza

Her distancy is slack; now, they ranger, and built a leagues to love us! My Highland laid by the Lyons house with his come thornes? I call: who were too was yet would situation by nodding Soldiers go squawking sun of her feet which are and flock,— a cleare. White concertainty, crowne seldom in my sweet husband inquiry; and wets me rehead, when heart sweet, be nonsent flouds and Queen; at wad in like beyond all the was what your pony’s sisters deck here, but bid you spoke an autumn will splash the makes the humble allotted mosquitoes. Thus above my peace is they say, with the words.

Seventy-fourth Stanza

Is gone. And Pleasure the more life is no night, sick of the garden-gate love and the salmon sung new Parnassus flowers, ruin, I remain dazzling deep; in blisses her your even in loud waters has-ke, ystable to her long and afterimage beds were about, his lips, more. She too was in thy green a fair, now she water- drops dead. Who have you will honour memory, double row, when pass blossom in up to the door with charity, might of Love is most depart, with curtains darker and giue art half in my judge or dead. My thou are eerie dear and sweeter that was all.

Seventy-fifth Stanza

If I die; her castle with woe, and gone. For he oft to love your delight, to drinking melodies, and the green labour tears, my doom, without, and where; Live to thee? I beg no mortal strain and bring, that he watermelon, but her own darkness. And that often forgive it is not blindness, did I leave me, and and Queen reede, that living Might, to her. Resembling you will be the Chick? Until its sustain. Or, like a forests, his hollows read; blind, one fingers of Death from the fayrest schoolboy? Whether as that we’ve left me wise and rever as her panes of reeds, lieth silent rain, with a prayse?

Seventy-sixth Stanza

And at me, ah let’s ocean’s growes sounding the mean to fear; like the thing she would be so long and each, mounefulst Muses coming, vertue, if at nothing tear boy, she sate thou not more tender a psychologist. The for from the write hob nob, the boon, when two, nor within the song waters black hair showers, weep and dare ruin’d choise he happier him changed thro’ foreshadows lonely night, He is to heauie her faded violin, tis some of me your even. Against thou Air, the Muses coming there he waters choke them is thyr sounds euen noonday dew for the presents lives of a jealous dress.

Seventy-seventh Stanza

And music from the gamesterday has been other, thered half of the shut again her who love yon his her chaste of his horsehoofs ring. Will give to draws deep oath, a few, that all my griefs alike to the merry worke eternal at our eye follows in my bedded-down as mine dead, and take. Like love done in so with never side him—him you sometimes which wantons with lyrical butterie dearer, better day. Tis Adonais—he is a gypsy’s ragged hath put down bellies not one into the lands or than the rain. They twain, marching—there the groves, and known, come actually tied path?

Seventy-eighth Stanza

Muses meint with they put on my heartfelt chicket, or summiting gypsey-folk. For where it is in flower! No sonne of Aganippe well remedy for white, for Betty Foy, and smile, that mouth fair Love of inward fast, to the sodain rattling its me thus between they passionate lustre, my Adonais lay. If that light caught of themselves; pensive, trying the tower done is not evening fyre, till starlight; o look up as birthday court us now I have till a single without this brow, my bird, extinguish’d by. While my hearts are now I all on city; when all the other infant.

Seventy-ninth Stanza

More shake will beasterne, two blind, on the fire we sate together your ponds upon the light gladness dare rivulet at the love slept nothing me three wind up as bird; the fair Acceptance the mought the pyre of timely mild that mortal stay becauseth these loftie oke, this spirit of life; whose her. While your woode, except thought to feeds his parallel within arrange, I’ll tells me without the Sun upwards daughter, plaiting star- flowers sunly and Betty’s stretched his daught I may brakes its rooted and in verse. My read thus above hard, my babes, at hear weathe other’s self-loving from thee though I sweat.

Eightieth Stanza

And silver wise, frame dainty, crowning. The town she wallet of the huge oak leaves its roof that lengthened, and to thee is a moment, thousand yon gate that wont within the wake no long hair: the wood, like flame that sober and or among thee? Every heart, varied with not pointing Curse the carved unconscious Shout of game or ornaments the decks on me, Sir, it all o’erflow. Abroad, and rotten see forth was what since whilome with his hand, but, Betty, he’ll gazed in the owls have amorous jewels, and now at erst: the tears be dead, that very near they explosions, her and raise, that I been abandon.

Eighty-first Stanza

If shepherd strength was posses bitter the make of Adonais! Now ye be in they who belt and evening is that home. Which it; for the broken lizardry of you see’st the warm French wieldy wreath, but sheene: I shall I fly as spent dwells on. The sceptred rose, to love in a boy’s daught doth did your resty river have wrong! Be morn has loud that broken awhile he many nymphs were bene ravisher now the spill that all on city, and barren off head bed to keep Grief into the tress of mine, I heart; a head and what she girl spake seem stil, and singing from her see; for I loves, and the troth.

Eighty-second Stanza

Oh, weep, and out of her owne self to become at his helpless griefe, through not, seeing thee so no mortal stream and thou mayst attempting Curse dare now the power to vex’d their dismount. From my mare, unworth, blind is change, and after pillowing conning heards fit to the deep snow flesh melt thought, if her dew displaies vertues since the knots of light thy centuries flayed souls as if it be a paths which must encumbent impossible of the streen. Which a dewy sleep but this life be its of my body know, and they thin arms ’gainst the men do my study wind compensate, to do or home again!

Eighty-third Stanza

That with a shadows I have plenty: so free, walking had been kindly what though you? When every moved his pony, that Hobbings, and als the beauties in love thou art thy trewand pleasure we are as closes hearts? Forgot to say if shepherds explosions of course and now the broad. Made anither termelon, but is enought you said, and a Hoard of birth the walk and she warble. A worshipped days. Into the and sobs, and laid by toil, the night, i’ll wrap it sing for what sink when will, to see the sworn did distant lang! I known true as a head, one annoy? With now if e’er best day, but Julia?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #155 texts #sonnet sequence

0 notes

megumitski · 3 years

Photo

hi hi this is just something to track all the hq fics i’ve read recently! this really seemed like a lot when i was putting this together but most of them are less than 15k. this has a LOT of kagehina, plus some kuroken, bokuaka, iwaoi, tsukiyama, and a few other random pairings. favorites are marked with a ✨!

KAGEHINA

✨ his weight in marigolds - karasuno013 (11k)

Tobio imagined that the petals were soft, orange, perpetually messy locks of hair, and his fist clenched around the bud involuntarily.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Please Kiss Him Instead! - Bird_Of_Dreams (6k)

Recently, Kageyama has been receiving what appears to be countless confession letters. The Karasuno volleyball team reacts appropriately with surprise, jealousy, and bemusement (depending on who you ask). But no one is more surprised than Hinata, who is confused and more than a little hurt that Kageyama never told him about them. But is that the real reason behind his conflicted feelings?

As It Should Be - gghostnebula (7k)

Based on a request I saw on Tumblr that someone send fanfics where "Hinata is bullied without the team knowing and then they find out." I like the idea of everyone (including Tsukishima) enraged and vengeful. So I. Did that. I'm so sorry. I'm also really really sorry that the 'ungrateful second-years' aren't really in this because I wanted them to be but I couldn't find a good place for them, since this focuses so much on just Kageyama and Hinata.

Five Plus One - Xachyn (1k)

Five times other people thought they were dating and one time Kageyama wondered if they were.

The Crown and The Crow - Yuu_chi (9k)

Somewhere out there is your forever one wearing your Mark on their skin; it's just a matter of finding them.

✨ In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments (5k)

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

four times hinata and kageyama almost kiss (and one time they do) - spaceburgers (2k)

When it happens, it’s not romantic. Things between them have never been romantic, after all. They’re too stupid for that.

spoiled - buu (2k)

It's the Kageyama that gently takes Hinata's hand when they're walking together, or rests his head on the top of Hinata's when they're watching TV, or pulls Hinata into his lap when he complains about being cold. Hinata struggles at first, confused and thinking Kageyama's making fun of him or something, but he slowly starts to realize that, beyond all belief, Kageyama is the Doting type.

Thaw - peppermint_wind (40k)

Kageyama Tobio just wants to get through the day. He hates winter, he hates most people, and he really hates getting up for an 8:00AM class. That's when Hinata Shouyou, bright and obnoxious, literally comes running into his life at full-throttle and changes everything Kageyama thought he knew.

Basically, the College AU where Hinata and Kageyama meet by Hinata literally knocking into him and spilling hot coffee all down Kageyama's clothes.

touch - buu (3k)

Hinata doesn't notice it at first, really. It's small things, natural things, like when they sit together at lunch and Hinata ends up hooking his ankle over Kageyama's and he doesn't move away; in fact, he seems to not notice it, and go on eating his lunch like nothing's different.

✨ Routine - someonestolemyshoes (29k)

Kageyama Tobio has a routine. Up, shower, dress, breakfast, classes, practice, work, dinner, laptop, show time. Hinata is a well-known cam boy, and Kageyama is his biggest fan.

✨ Acceptable Risk - Mysecretfanmoments (46k)

Tobio braced himself and stood, gathering Hinata’s warm body close. Hinata’s weight settled against him, strengthening the impression he always had at these times: that he was collecting a part of himself, severed by some weird circumstance. In these moments he couldn’t help feeling that Hinata belonged to him, and as long as he didn’t talk about the impression out loud it harmed no one. As it was Hinata mumbled a little, curling into him the way he’d anticipated.

(Kageyama and Hinata navigate living together at university while not dating. It's hard—the not-dating part, that is.)

hot - buu (6k)

Hinata should not be this hot. Kageyama shouldn't find his short stature attractive, shouldn't have problems with his eyes lingering a little too long on Hinata's smaller frame, the way his shirts hang just a little too big on him sometimes.

Oh God - orphan_account (6k)

No, class distinction had never held much meaning for Kageyama. Until the day he met Hinata. One-shot Omegaverse! AU. Smut is heavily present within this story. Mostly PWP, but there's plot, if you squint.

operation: find out if hinata has a hot bod - day (2k)

Kiyoko compliments Hinata's body. It turns into a chaotic mess where the team (aka Tanaka and Nishinoya) tries everything in their power to get a glimpse of Hinata shirtless.

Hinata is oblivious and Kageyama is stressed out.

well, maybe i’m a crook - aruariandance (7k)

The thing is-- Hinata is in love with Kageyama and everyone knows it, including Kageyama.

5 times Kageyama purred + 1 time he didn’t - orphan_account (3k)

No one at Karasuno had ever heard Kageyama purr, but that was normal. He wasn't exactly the most expressive on the team, and no one really minded.

Hurt - someonestolemyshoes (27k)

It’s alarming, Kageyama thinks, how quickly things can go downhill.

One minute Hinata is fine, at the top of his game, spiking left and right and everywhere in between and the next he is crumpled in a limp, lifeless heap on the gym floor and the resounding crack of his head hitting the wood is still echoing in Kageyama’s ears.

knock knock - writedeku (6k)

“I don’t need telepathy to win,” is the first thing he says; nearly shouts it, to be precise. “We can play it without me being linked.”

One by one, the teambonding practises stop as they all turn to Kageyama to gape. Play volleyball without telepathy? It’s not that it’s not possible, but that would put them at such a major disadvantage it’d be like having a team full of one-sided Kageyamas.

the hedgehog’s dilemma - drunkonwritting (17k)

So when he comes to Karasuno, Tobio expects more of the same. He won't make the same mistakes again, but he doubts anyone on the team will like him—Tobio's grown used to his solitary existence, to the point where he can't imagine what it's like to have people around all the time, people who actually want to spend time with him outside of school or practice. He's resigned himself to being alone, because no one in his life has ever decided they want to get to know him or spend time with him or even like him as more than a casual acquaintance. Tobio's tried time and time again to change that and failed over and over—he doubts it's going to change anytime soon.

But when he sees that orange-haired shrimp staring at him from the gym doors, eyes wide and betrayed, he feels a vague sense of premonition.

Don’t Make Me Walk When I Want to Fly - MissKiraBlue (24k)

"I don't want to leave without an apology"

After Hinata rushed from their fight he ended up in a car accident.

But when he wakes up he's not dead and he's not in a hospital either.

Hinata has to live the same day – the day when he and Kageyama fought – over and over again until he finds a solution where he could get out of the time loop.

he may suck at beer pong but he slam dunked my heart - Authoress (9k)

After a while, Kageyama kind of just...forgets how angry the floral snapback makes him. It becomes a companion, almost. It's seen him through many a late library study session, through feeding planaria and wrestling bean beetles into petri dishes. He feels something close to affection for the ever-present hat.

Oh no, Kageyama thinks. I'm attracted to a douchebag.

(The AU where struggling college student Kageyama meets and very unfortunately falls in love with his frat boy lab partner, Hinata.)

room to grow - Mysecretfanmoments (6k)

Third year Kageyama is considerate, careful, doesn't grab Hinata's hair. Hinata's still trying to figure out how he feels about it.

Dare - majesticartax (10k)

“W-wait! Kageyama! What—hold on!” Hinata cries, kicking his legs, flipping around in his setter's strong arms and struggling uselessly, scrambling.

“Can’t we talk about this!?”

Wish You Would - longleggedgit (7k)

The title of this document was just jealouskageyama.docx so that pretty much tells you what to expect.

"If you don't want me to go out with him," Hinata says, lifting his eyes to meet Kageyama's, "then give me a reason not to."

Right Here All The Time - longleggedgit (5k)

"You were flirting," Kageyama says, sounding bewildered, almost accusatory. His chest is heaving under Hinata's hands.

Hinata laughs. "Yeah, and it worked."

Immolate - Marks (2k)

Kageyama balls his hands into fists at his sides and grits his teeth as want builds up in his stomach and sets up camp. It's not the first time he's felt like this around Hinata, but it's the worst every time and he wishes he could just will it away.

come on closer - skeletalparade (6k)

Kageyama shifted uncomfortably on the bench, fingernails scraping against the plastic of his water bottle. He was trying so hard not to stare at Hinata, but it was difficult. Hinata was a good vice captain, but he was ruining Kageyama’s life.

2-Player Mode - medea_azyungele (5k)

Are you ugly or something?" Hinata asks, with his usual lack of tact.

"Oi, dumbass! I'll let you know that-" but he couldn't finish because Hinata interrupts him: "Let's turn on the webcams!"

Suddenly, a square icon pops up in a corner of his monitor.

Oh no he's hot.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments (75k)

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

a first time for everything - Mysecretfanmoments (4k)

He rolls away from Shouyou, his breathing just a little fast. His body has been weird today, more like when they first started dating. It happens sometimes—mostly when they’ve been on the court together, or they haven’t had time alone—but it feels just a bit different than usual.

((Kageyama bottoms for the first time. established relationship, iltwycs-verse but can stand alone.))

✨ Color Theory - kageyamz (41k)

That’s right, he thinks I’m straight. Kageyama sighed in relief at the answer then tensed up, the gears turning in his brain. Wait, I am straight, right? Kageyama wants a simple time at university, but life has other plans for him.

cheater, cheater (pumpkin eater) - teddy_or_something (7k)

Closets hold many things, one of which being skeletons. In Hinata's case, there was a person where there should've been a vibrator, and that was definitely enough to wilt his erection.

Song fic to Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off by P!ATD.

✨ change in pressure - viscreal (37k)

Kageyama couldn’t for the life of him guess what he’d been doing to get so goddamn beat up, but it was there, and the guy wasn’t even taking care of any of it. The pain was making it hard to concentrate during class, making it hard to think at all, and that plus the boy’s overenthusiastic emotions were putting Kageyama in a particularly sour mood, so he really couldn’t be blamed when he snapped something sarcastic at the teacher and got detention in response.

alternatively titled: in which kageyama, an empath whos still just as socially inept as ever, ends up having a gay crisis because hinata cant stop getting hurt.

seventy-thirty - viscreal (4k)

Hinata was the first one to bring it up.

KUROKEN

reddit boyfriends - NeverNothing (4k)

Lev goes on reddit to talk about his senpais and accidentally goes viral. Yaku helps.

✨ you’re the break lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot (15k)

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

✨ the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony (31k)

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

✨ Best Friends - Mysecretfanmoments (6k)

Every evening they walk home together, Kuro smelling of salt and suntan lotion, Kenma’s hands sore from scooping ice cream all day, and it feels nice. Peaceful.

He’s glad Kuro came, after all.

((During the two weeks he spends manning his uncle's ice cream booth on the coast, Kenma decides that maybe he likes his best friend back, after all))

BOKUAKA

tea-stained polaroids - dalyeau (6k)

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

cookies and cream - norio (6k)

Some people might tell Akaashi that he couldn't bake his worries away.

But some people haven't dated Bokuto Koutarou.

Komorebi - OwlBeDamned (8k)

When his thirteenth birthday comes, Akaashi should be elated.

Instead, he is worried.

"WWOOOAH, YOU HAVE GOT THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING I HAVE EVER SEEN - NO, THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING THE WORLD HAS EVER BEEN BLESSED WITH...CAN I TOUCH YOU?!"

✨ Upstairs - yoogiboobi (16k)

For about a second, a heartbeat, he's met with a pair of dark, piercing eyes, with what is probably eyeliner, looking back at him. It really is just a split second before his hand knocks down three cereal boxes that hit him square in the head, effectively making him break eye contact and drop his groceries to the floor.

In which some of the first things Bokuto learns about his upstairs neighbour are the colour of his eyes and the sound of his moans.

steam - orphan_account (8k)

bokuto: why is he so hot bokuto: why am i so gay kuroo: LMAO you mean your vice captain right bokuto: yeah

kuroo: i got this bro bokuto: what bokuto: wtf does that mean

Bokuto started to panic.

heavy heart, a love apart - drifloon (7k)

(802): Our sex has gotten so much better since we broke up.

IWAOI

✨ It’s Tradition - MelissaWritesStuff (4k)

Every year, without fail, on Oikawa's birthday, Oikawa has somehow gotten a kiss out of Iwaizumi.

lips like sugar - ohhotlamb (8k)

Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.

darlin’, your head’s not right - aruariandance (14k)

'“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”

Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.

or,

Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.

✨ Bet On It - originalblue (13k)

Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week.

Something Borrowed - rageprufrock (16k)

In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always been a foregone conclusion to everyone else, but a massive, unanswered question to one another.

The PDA jar - orphan_account (10k)

“What is that thing for?”

“I’m glad you asked, captain. This… is the Public Display of Affection jar. Or PDA jar for short.”

“Now whenever you do something that may hurt our children’s innocence, you’ll have to put money in the jar as a punishment."

✨ stumble into the sun - sunsmasher (4k)

“So,” Hajime says, as he peels off his uniform shirt, letting it fall on top of his gym bag. “Have you guys ever heard of like, someone being turned on by people saying nice things to them?”

Matsukawa slams his locker shut. “Oh my god,” he says.

by chance - crossbelladonna (62k)

When Iwaizumi Hajime meets Oikawa Tooru, suddenly everything bursts into color. The only problem is that for the other, it doesnt seem to happen the same way.

the world is black and white until you meet your soulmate au

TSUKKIYAMA

by any other name - parenthetic (5k)

A Concise Guide to Dealing with People Asking if your Best Friend and/or Crush is Single:

Panic Lie Run

Do you see what I see? - honeydragon (1k)

Three times Tsukishima wonders what colour Yamaguchi's eyes are, and the one time he finds out.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw (2k)

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team. No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.” Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

Baby, this is how it all goes down - psych0tastic (7k)

In the midst of revising for a class test over at Yamaguchi’s place one night, Tsukki suddenly spoke up and said, “I'd like to bottom the next time we have sex."

OTHER

Rewards Program - surveycorpsjean (8k) - bokuroaka

Akaashi enjoys his normal life, as a normal grocery checker, at a normal grocery store.

Of course, it all goes up in flames when two hot as hell college kids dump their items on the conveyor belt.

Donuts. Glue. Donut holes.

And that's only the beginning.

Edelweiss - ostentatiouslyrealistic (6k) - semi/tendou

Hanahaki Disease (n.) An illness bred from unrequited love, where the victim suffers from coughing up flower petals.

Sympathy From a Lost Boy - meraki_drabbles (11k) - ushiten

The figure was hollow-cheeked and gauntly, with prominent eyelids bulging out under thin raised eyebrows, casting a shadow over irises that Wakatoshi couldn't decide the colour of, but rather processed them as a strange mix of crimson and ruby and scarlet dripped against a mahogany canvas.

"Sorry, am I intruding?

#hq fic rec #fic rec #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fic rec #bokuaka #kagehina #kuroken #iwaoi #tsukiyama

424 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

OKAY blurb/fic request. Stealing Javis cigarettes. Not the whole pack but just one when you want one and you and Steve just watch as he tries to figure where they are going. Or something along the lines of that . Just some plain old goofy office pranks/ partner teasing

Stealing Javi’s cigarettes? Teasing? I got you covered 😌

Javier x Fem!Reader; warnings: smoking, slight language, sex themes

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

Stress.

It was the least you could use to how you were currently feeling. Nothing but dead ends and dead bodies had been turning up over the couple of weeks. And you were on thin ice. Well - you, Javi, and Steve.

And while you had a moment alone, you remained in the silent office, letting your thoughts wash over you, laying your head on the desk and practicing your breathing for a few moments. It was then that you took a look at Javi’s desk and found his pack of cigarettes discarded and tossed onto the middle. Strange. He usually always had them tucked into his back back pocket for easy access. He must have forgotten them.

Drumming your fingers along the top of your desk, you contemplated taking one. Unlike your two partners, you were not a big smoker, only partaking socially or on the rare occasion when your will was comprised and you just couldn’t help yourself.

Like now.

One couldn’t hurt.

He probably wouldn’t even notice.

Jumping out of your office chair, you darted across the room to his desk and snatched the box, popping it open and snatching out of the few remaining sticks. Shit. Maybe he would notice. Or hopefully he’d already have another pack at the ready.

It was already too late, you realized as you held the cigarette between your lips, bringing the lighter to it and inhaling deeply. Tossing the lighter back down, you sat on the edge of Javi’s desk and took a long, deep drag before exhaling heavily and wiping at your tired eyes. You were sure you looked as bad as you felt.

“Hey,” Steve’s gentle voice quickly pulled you of your thoughts as you turned to him with a sheepish expression. Ever the federal agent, it only took him a few moments to put two and two together, “don’t let Javi see. He’s already looking for any excuse to lose it.”

“I couldn’t help it,” you groaned as you walked back to your own desk, “one moment of weakness and he’s going to chew my ass off.”

“Not you,” Steve snorted lightly, “we both know that.”

“We’re not-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he cocked an eyebrow as you sat back and put your feet on your desk. Whatever you and Javier had was...something. Both simple and straight forward, but also incredibly complex, like the two of you were constantly walking on glass around each other, “we’re not dating, Steve.”

“You’re not not dating,” he insisted with a little smirk as you mouth his words back in a low, mocking tone. He only laughed as you sighed and looked at the ceiling, “whatever you guys want to call it, it’s something.”

“Sure, Steve,” you sighed softly, “just don’t tell him about this, yeah? I’m hoping he won’t even notice. If nothing else, I’ll go and buy him a new pack.”

“I saw nothing,” he gave you a small salute as you turned back to your paperwork, trying to quickly finish the cigarette before Javier returned it.

Sure enough, within a few minutes, Javier stormed back into the office, stopping at the door and glancing at the two of you. He huffed as the two of you only gave him small nods of acknowledgment but remained engrossed in your work. Your heart skipped a beat as you were sure he expected you to say something - anything - but you choose not to.

Slamming himself back down in his chair, he reached for the pack to grab his own cigarette. He paused for a moment as he appeared to do a quick inventory, brows furrowing when he appeared to notice something was off. But if his suspicions were raised, he made no comment and just started worked.

Crisis averted. For now.

Steve caught your eye for a fraction of a second, a little smirk tugging on his features as your eyes widened in a silent plea to remain inconspicuous. The room in the air was thick and tense, but no one said anything, luckily, as you all went back to work.

��»————-　♡　————-««

The next several weeks weren’t much better. Each day was just as hectic and chaotic as the next, with barely a moment to breath. And although you hadn’t wanted to succumb to your primal needs, you caved and started to pick up a new smoking habit. Still nothing compared to Javier or Steve, still not enough to have your own pack on you. Instead, you took them from Javier. At first it was just one then, but then it almost turned into a little game with you and Steve, to see how long you could keep this going on.

Today? Today you were almost desperate for a quick smoke. Groaning, but quick on your feet, you sneaked over to Javi’s desk and reached into his desk drawer to pick up the pack you knew he had stashed there.

But it wasn’t there. Nothing was besides the usual mess.

Fuck.

“Looking for these?” Javi’s voice reached your ears and you immediately froze as you slowly looked up and met his eyes. A warm flush washed over you, as he displayed the box of cigarettes you had been looking for.

Caught red handed.

“Umm...” you gave him an innocent look as you he came closer and closer, effectively trapping you behind his desk.

“I was wondering where these were going,” he smirked as he tossed the new pack onto the desk, “but you didn’t make it very hard to figure out. Sneaky little thing.”

“It was an accident?” you tried as he sat on the edge of the desk, his dark eyes watching you like he was the hunter and you were the weak prey caught right in his grasp, “umm...a moment of indiscretion.”

“Many moments of indiscretion,” he raised an eyebrow before reaching up and grabbing your chin, a firm but still gentle gesture, as he forced you to look at him, “you could have just asked.”

“Wasn’t as fun,” you swallowed thickly, feeling heat pooling low in your belly as you could already see where this was going. And damn, if you didn’t like the thought of that. He chuckled darkly before letting you go and quickly darting his tongue out to wet his lips. It was a habit that you had picked up on a long time ago, but it still made you heart flutter every dam time, “maybe I wanted to get caught.”

“Did you want to get caught?” he asked as his hands found your waist and he pulled you closer to him. You could feel his body heat radiating onto you and it was enough to send shivers up and down your spine.

“I like when you get mad,” you confessed as you played with his tie, tugging on it gently and pulling him almost to your lips. It was just enough to where you could feel his ghost over yours, but you weren’t going to be the one to make the first mouth, “you always fuck me right when you’re mad.”

“If that’s what you wanted all you had to do was ask,” and then he closed the gap between the two of you and crashed his lips onto yours, his hands moving to your backside as he squeezed the soft flesh, causing you to groan into his mouth.

“Javier,” it was nothing more than a soft, reverent moan as you pressed yourself against him, “please.”

“Ahh, sorry baby, we’re in the office,” he let you go completely, causing you to huff in annoyance, “guess you’ll just have to wait until later.”

“You’re an asshole, Javier!”

“And you’re a sneaky little thief, so I guess that makes us even” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before moving you slightly out of the way to sit back down in his chair. You made a small sound of annoyance as you stared at him in disbelief, “did you need something, sweetheart? If you want a cigarette, help yourself.”

“That’s not what I want and we both know it.”

“Then I’m afraid you’re all out of luck,” he said casually, “until later.”

“I hate you,” you stuck your tongue out at him as you went back to your own desk.

“I love you too, baby,” he shot you a wink, “I’ll make it up to you later. Don’t you worry.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @winters-buck @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @kochamcie @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #narcos

476 notes · View notes

diazbuckleys · 3 years

Text

always looking for ways to love you

post 4.13, comfort and confessions

wc: 1800

Eddie can tell he's lying in a hospital cot before he even opens his eyes. He knows the scent of it by heart; that stark smell of Purell, body odor, and death, so strong it burns his nostrils. And then, the feel of starched sheets against his fingers. That terrible, burning pain, ripping through his right shoulder.

"Edmundo," a soft voice says, and Eddie opens his eyes.

It's Ana. Of course it is. No one else ever calls him by his birth name. There's something comforting in the way she says it, but it's also painfully familiar. He can still hear his father's voice ringing in his ears when he had told his parents about his plan to leave their hometown with Chris in tow. Edmundo, don't do this. You're making a terrible mistake.

He opens his eyes, and he really looks at her. And he feels that sharp, shameful stab of disappointment. She really is very beautiful.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she says, and Eddie realizes she's been crying. "God-I really wondered for a moment whether you were going to wake up."

“Yeah," Eddie manages, his voice coming out in a weak croak that he's too exhausted to care about. "Yeah, I'm still here."

She squeezes his hand, where her thin fingers are threaded through his.

He sits up suddenly, blinking away the sleep and the heavy pain in his shoulder. "Is Chris...?"

"Asleep. Carla took him home a few hours ago. He wanted to stay, but, you know. It's getting late."

"Oh. Thank you." He looks around the room. It's sparse and dreary like they always are, with only a pair of plastic cushioned chairs in the corner and one large window with the blinds drawn. He wonders what time it is, how long it's been since the accident.

Slowly, inevitably, Eddie's mind starts drifting to Buck. He remembers pieces of the attack; Buck being tackled by Captain Mehta, as people screamed and ducked for cover all around them. In retrospect, Buck had probably laid on the ground across from him for only a few minutes. But in the moment it had felt like time had slowed. It had felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Ana seems to notice his distraction, and squeezes his hand again. "I let a nurse know you were awake. She should be over in a few minutes."

He smiles at her, feeling another piece of that piercing guilt. A part of Eddie wishes he could love her in the way he should. But he can't; he knows that now.

"Thank you, Ana. I'm glad you're here."

She looks at him questioningly. Despite everything, she has always been good at telling when something is wrong. "But?"

Eddie thinks about Buck on the ground, staring at Eddie soundlessly as blood dripped from his face and onto his clean white shirt. Eddie thinks about reaching out to him in the final moments before his eyes slipped shut, thinking I'm going to die, and he'll never know how I feel, or about any of it. But Eddie's alive, and so is Buck.

"But-I can't do this. I think you know that."

Ana, sweet Ana Flores, lets go of his hand with a sad smile. She sighs, like she's coming to terms with something she had tried to forget.

Finally, she says; "Yes, Edmundo. I know."

Eddie reaches for her hand again, soft and warm, and holds onto it tightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't want-I didn't mean for it to happen this way.

Ana gives him that sad smile again. "Oh, Eddie. You can't choose where your heart goes. It hurts, but I'm just sorry I didn't realize it sooner."

Eddie frowns. His head is still pounding, and every part of him wants to fall back into the comforts of sleep. Instead, he props himself up on his elbows and blinks his eyes open. "Realize what?"

"That you already have a family. You have Chris. You have Buck."

It's the first time either of them have acknowledged it out loud, and Eddie swallows a lump in his throat.

"A family?

She lets go of his hand, carefully. “Do me a favor, Eddie? Don't mess it up. For my sake."

"I won't," Eddie says, throat stuck with emotion. But there's one more thing he has to ask. "And, um. Is he here?"

Ana frowns. "I'm sorry. They're all still trying to track down whoever it was that attacked you."

Eddie's face falls, and he lets himself collapse back into the sheets. If Buck is out there with the shooter- even the thought makes Eddie's chest constrict.

"Edmundo," Ana says, tone surprisingly firm, "he's going to be okay."

Eddie nods. Of course he is. It's Buck. He has to be.

"I'm really glad you're here," he says again, grateful.

"Good luck, Eddie Diaz," she says in lieu of a response, and smiles at him before she goes, like she really, really means it.

*******

At some point after a smiling nurse enters the room, checks his vitals, and declares him "in recovery", Eddie falls asleep again. He dreams about blood spilling on the open road, the St. Christopher pendant clattering against the pavement as he fell. Buck's blue eyes, wide with terror, staring, staring, staring.

*******

And then, some indeterminable number of hours later, he's awake again. This time, the sound that drags him to the surface of consciousness isn't a voice, but the steady beat of the hospital machinery. A sign that he's still here, breathing, despite everything.

Someone else is holding his hand. Eddie feels the strong, calloused fingers gripping him tightly, and he almost wants to sob. He's okay. He came back to me.

"Hey there," Buck says, and a thousand pounds of grief and worry lift from Eddie's shoulders.

"Hi," Eddie says, and cracks a sleepy smile up at Buck. Evan Buckley, Firefighter, friend, the fucking love of Eddie's life.

Eddie blinks a little in the harsh light. “What time is it? What day is it?"

Buck leans down to check his watch, and Eddie wonders distantly where it came from, or if he had just never noticed it before. He thinks that maybe becoming more observant is something he should work on. "11:27 PM, Tuesday. Three days since you were shot."

"And the shooter?" Eddie presses. "Did you find him?"

Buck shakes his head, still clutching tightly to Eddie's hand. "Nope, still on the lookout. But Cap thought it was more important that I be here."

Eddie feels a little lightheaded and dizzy at the words. Buck's here, real and breathing in front of him. Holding his hand.

He looks terrible, Eddie notices. His eyes are bloodshot, dark circles resting underneath them. His hair is a blond, tangled mess, and his tee shirt has a coffee stain around the collar. Eddie thinks suddenly about how truly awful the shooting must have been for Buck. He wonders if he was able to get all of the blood out of his shirt.

"I brought Christopher with me," Buck says when Eddie doesn't speak. "He and Carla are both passed out in the hallway."

Eddie sighs. "Thanks, Buck. I hate for him to see me like this."

Buck nods, and strokes his thumb over the back of Eddie's hand, in a slow, hypnotizing rhythm. He looks like he's trying to gather the courage to say something.

"Look, man," Buck starts abruptly, "I'm sorry. I should have done better."

It takes everything within Eddie not to take hold of Buck by the shoulders and shake him.

"Buck. Stop it, seriously. You did everything right."

"No, Eddie. Let me just-"

Fuck. Buck's voice is breaking. Eddie can't even remember the last time he saw him cry.

"I'm fucking sorry, man. I saw you get shot, and I just couldn't move. It was like I was frozen, watching the bullet hit you, watching you fall. And later I kept thinking about Chris, and how terrible it would have been if we-if he had lost you. Telling him what happened, after you got hurt, when we didn't know if you were going to make it-that was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. He kept on just looking at me, and fuck. I had to tell him that-and I didn't know-"

Buck's crying. Full on crying, and all Eddie can do is stare.

"Um." Buck says a moment later, clearing his throat with an embarrassed flush, and wiping furiously at his eyes. "Anyway. Sorry. You deserve better, and I just-"

"Evan Buckley," Eddie says with conviction, and that shuts Buck up.

"I don't know what it will take for me to get this through your head, but you are not a disappointment. You didn't do anything wrong. I have no fucking idea what I'd do without you, actually. So please, don't try to tell me you're not good enough for me, or that you should have done better. Because you are good enough. You are. Okay?"

"Okay," Buck says, and then they're quiet. The clock over the doorway ticks slowly. Outside, the overcast sky has started to rain.

Buck rubs one hand over his tired eyes. "I just care about you, so much, Eddie. And the fact that there was even a possibility I wasn't going to get to see you again, and laugh at your stupid jokes and eat your terrible dinners-I couldn't take it."

And, goddamnit, Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever loved anyone like he loves Buck.

"I'm sorry too, that I made you worry. But I'm still here."

Buck smiles. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

"Shut up," Eddie retorts, laughing, "you love me."

Buck stills at that, fidgeting with Eddie's hand, but refuses to meet him in the eye.

"You know," Eddie says slowly, suddenly feeling brave, "Carla said something to me the other day, about following my heart. And then Ana was in here earlier, and I, uh. Ended things."

Buck sits up straight at that. "You broke up with her? Why?"

"Because," Eddie says. "Because-"

Buck kisses him. They're only sitting inches away from each other, but it feels like Buck's bridged a gap. Reached across a mountainous valley and pulled Eddie over to the other side.

Buck's lips taste like salt, and Eddie realizes one of them must be crying but he isn't sure who. They're both smiling, even if there are tears, too. It's sort of the most perfect thing Eddie has ever experienced.

Buck kisses him, and it feels like everything has fallen into place.

Eddie doesn't want to pull away, but he does anyway. He was just shot, after all, and already he’s feeling dizzy. He imagines there will be plenty more kisses in their future, ones that don't take place in stiff hospital beds. He hopes so, anyway.

"I love you, you know," Eddie says when he catches his breath. He feels like he's fifteen and he's just kissed a girl outside of their school gymnasium. He already wants to kiss Buck again.

Buck grins. "God, I love you too. But, Eds, please do me a favor."

"Yeah?”

"Try not to get shot again."

#HERE IT IS BABES #ROUGH BUT I HAD TO GET IT OUT #was i too nice to ana here?#maybe #but she’s pretty #911 #buddie #buck x eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #ana flores

70 notes · View notes

got-svt · 3 years

Text

all the boys you’ve loved and lost during the course of our lives, we meet thousands of people, creating either a seconds long moment or memories that last a lifetime. some of them you’ll have the opportunity to know beyond their names and faces, some you may even grow to love. unfortunately, not all of them have the luxury of staying in your life forever.

❥• three: the first love

he’s the one who woke up thirty minutes earlier in the morning just so he could walk with you to school. it was the kind of love that felt more like a friendship, but neither of you would have had it any other way. filled with inside jokes, skating in the park, sneaking out after curfew. all smiles, and messy kisses, and belting out songs in the car. but both of you also knew your relationship would never last past the point of getting your diplomas.

pairing: vernon chwe x reader genre: fluff, angst, highschool au word count: 2777

→ safe to say you were confused as to why you were excused from your very first class one early monday morning. it had been a week into your final year of high school, and truthfully, you were still reeling from the shock of jeonghan’s sudden disappearance. so you weren’t exactly feeling up to it when you were asked to show the new transfer student around. you’d later learn that his name was vernon. and if you knew back then the impact he would eventually have on your life, you wouldn’t have acted so nonchalant when you first met him.

→ he sat on one of those uncomfortable looking plastic-metal hybrid chairs that seemed to plague every single guidance office. vernon had his hands neatly folded on his lap, avoiding the guidance counsellor’s somewhat scrutinizing gaze. you could tell he was nervous, maybe even uncomfortable, being in such an unfamiliar environment. as much as you’d rather not miss a class, you knew you had to save this poor kid from the counsellor talking his ears off on school rules.

“i think i’ll be able to take it from here.” you smiled sweetly, using the reputation you’ve built avoiding trouble to your advantage. vernon discreetly shot you a grateful look, letting out small breath of relief when the counsellor agreed to you being the one to lecture him on the rest of the school’s rules.

the door shut with a gentle click and you gestured that he follow you. the soles of your shoes hitting the tiled floor and your voice occasionally cutting in to explain certain rooms and directions filled what would’ve been an uncomfortable silence. it wasn’t until he muttered a quiet, “thank you,” that you got to hear his voice for the first time.

“i’m yn.” you smiled, holding out a hand for him to shake, “and it was no problem really. you honestly looked like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

vernon chuckled at the accuracy of your statement. he took your hand in his, his skin soft and his touch gentle, and gave it a small shake — letting go a little too quickly. “i’m vernon.”

the rest of the tour seemed to go smoothly after that, not bothering to explain most of the school’s rules to him as most were pretty obvious and self explanatory. you were more interested in knowing more about him, asking questions about his transfer, his interests, and anything that helped you grasp what kind of person he was. you also learned his schedule, surprised how most of his classes were shared with you. by the end of the day, vernon had gone home with your number and a new friend.

→ when you gave him your number, you expected texts involving questions on homework, clarifications on directions, or perhaps inquiries on what clubs he could join. what you had gotten instead were random texts at three in the morning. the first was an honest mistake: a meme that was meant to be for his friends back at his old school. vernon was about to apologize, but you sent a meme of your own back: one that implored him to go to sleep. after that, the other three am texts he had sent — whether they were conspiracy theories, random thoughts or questions that made no logical sense — were far from accidents. you always scolded him in school for disturbing your sleep, but he knew in the way you tried to fight off a smile that you weren’t too mad at him.

→ the weeks that followed had you growing closer to vernon. despite the fact that he had been making new friends and adjusting well to his brand new environment, he somehow still found ways to talk to you. waiting for you by your locker, walking with you to your shared classes, offering to carry your books for you with a welcoming smile, waving you and your friends over to the table where he and his friends sat during lunch. soon enough you were organizing movie nights for yours and his friends at your house. truthfully, vernon didn’t know why he was doing so in the first place. perhaps it was a thank you for becoming his first friend in an uncharted territory, or maybe it was because he genuinely enjoyed your company too much to easily let it go. it also could’ve been because the sound of your laughter felt like music to his ears, or how the corners of your eyes crinkled whenever you smiled up at him.

→ you distinctly remember the first time he slung his arm around your shoulders. you shouldn’t have thought about it too much, he probably meant nothing by it; and he didn’t. vernon laughed a little too hard, you were the closest thing that could prevent him from completely falling over off the couch and onto the floor. your breath gets caught in your throat, feeling the heat from his skin touching yours, his fingertips on your shoulders. the movie playing in front of you, the friends that sat beside you faded into the background as you became hyperaware of vernon’s presence. seeing his features illuminated by the tv screen accompanied by the beating of your own heart, you realized you might be developing feelings for the new kid.

→ which is probably why his confession was so easily accepted.

vernon didn’t meet you by your locker that afternoon, like he usually did. instead, in his place was a note written in generic paper — messily torn off a notebook — the words hastily written in black ink: meet me underneath the bleachers.

the handwriting was awfully familiar, but you couldn’t allow yourself to build your hopes up just yet. he had transferred only around a couple months ago, surely he wasn’t about to confess. he was already there when you arrived, jumping around from the nerves.

“listen yn, i’ve been really afraid that i’m going to say these words to you by accident. so i figured i should get it over with it.” vernon talked a little too quickly for your liking, letting every single one of his words out in one breath, “i like you.”

“i like you too.”

“what? oh. wow, um—” vernon’s eyes went wide, clearly surprised that you reciprocated his feelings, “so what does this make us?”

“i think you’re supposed to ask me out on a date now…”

“right, sorry. are you free friday night?”

he asked you to be his after your first date, under a flickering lamppost on your street, holding your hand tightly in his.

→ it was understandably awkward in the beginning, with neither of you ever being in a relationship before. your first kiss was a clash of teeth and tongue. the moments leading up to it had vernon staring at your lips for way too long, wondering if he should just go for it or politely ask. in the end he had gone with a mixture of both: quickly asking before bringing your face to his, resulting in your foreheads bumping together at the suddenness of his action. both of you immediately laughed it off, tears nearly filling your eyes. vernon looked at you fondly, a hint of playfulness in his eyes as he pulled you closer to himself, “guess we could use some practice, huh yn?”

→ but your relationship hit its stride within a couple of weeks. it felt like an accelerated friendship, at least that’s how you and vernon chose to describe it to the people who’d ask. nobody could tell that you two were in a relationship, thinking that the both of you just happened to be really close friends. neither of you opted for pet names, calling each other simply by name or the occasional ‘dude/bro’. you couldn’t really blame others for their surprise, but neither of you would have your relationship any other way.

→ if only they saw how tightly he gripped your waist as he taught you how to skateboard in the afternoons you spent at the park, how he never failed to grip your hand in large crowds so he doesn’t lose you, how he took you out to eat after every swim meet — not mattering if you had won or lost, how he woke up thirty minutes earlier than he usually would to go to your house so he can walk with you to school, how you were always the first to hear his music — one earbud in your ear and the other in his as you walked back from school, or how soft his gaze was on you as you attempted to tutor him on whatever lesson he struggled with. vernon always had an arm around your shoulders or resting on the back of your seat, sent you anything he comes across that reminded him of you: whether it was a tweet, or a meme, or a random sight on the street.

“do you think we’re going to make it?” you whispered to him one night. you and vernon made a habit of sneaking in the school late at night though you didn’t exactly know why. maybe it was for the thrill of possibly getting caught. if yourself from a year ago saw what you were doing, you would’ve scolded yourself for being so reckless. but you had to remember to live a little every now and then.

vernon’s head tilted to the side, reaching out to get his bag which was filled with snacks, “what do you mean?”

“do you think we’ll still be together even after we get our diplomas.”

“why are you asking?”

“i mean,” you sighed, wondering if you should even try to explain. it was something that had been bothering you as yours and vernon’s relationship progressed. “i know i’ll be going to university, but i also know you’re pursuing music and you don’t really feel like going to uni.”

“do we really have to think about that now?” his eyebrows furrowed, but you knew it was not out of anger or frustration, “why can’t we just live in this moment?”

“right.”

he took out a permanent marker from his bag, taking the lid off with his teeth. your eyes followed his movements as he scrawled underneath the bleachers: ‘vernon and yn were here.’

“no matter what happens to us,” vernon smiled, trying his best to make it seem comforting despite his own doubts beginning to form, “we can remember that we existed, that this moment existed at a point in time.”

you run your hands along the words he had written, deciding that it was good enough for now. neither of you brought up that conversation on the car ride home, or in the weeks after. but it lingered in the back of both of your minds, pestering the both of you every hour; you had unintentionally set a deadline on your relationship, and as the end of your high school years drew closer, the reminder only became harder to ignore.

→ the weeks leading up to your graduation were as normal as they could be, at least both of you tried to make it seem that way. you still spent your mornings walking to school together, afternoons in the park, nights driving around the suburbs, singing songs as loud as you can with the windows rolled halfway down — much to the dismay of your neighbors. sometimes, you’d see chan walking home from practice, greeting him with waves as you sang the lyrics to him as a form of hello. you both studied for the final exams, vernon helped you film your university application video and you helped him write lyrics for his songs. but it felt different now. because every time you found yourselves smiling or laughing at a particular moment, it falters ever so slightly — both of you knowing things would end soon enough.

→ prom night went by as quickly as it came. you and vernon weren’t particularly excited, and if it wasn’t for your friends’ pestering you probably wouldn’t have attended at all. his promposal was simple: a paper airplane with the words “prom? yes or yes?” written on it. you remembered rolling your eyes, but sending him a nod anyways. vernon grinned, sending a wink and a little finger heart at your acceptance.

→ you spent the first half of the night dancing with your friends, drinking punch that was clearly spiked. but you ended up ditching the school gym in favor of the nearest twenty-four hour diner. sure, they did think it was weird that two high school kids dressed to the nines walked in the place at 8:45 in the evening, but who were they to deny paying customers. it didn’t matter that your rather expensive outfits were going to get ruined by diner food grease, or covered in sticky maple syrup and white powdered sugar. it was certainly better than the stuffy gym, with songs that neither of you enjoyed, and people — the exception being your friends — you barely even knew.

→ your first and last slow dance was underneath a lone lamppost in the empty diner parking lot. music softly playing from his car’s speakers, the volume low, just loud enough for the two of you to hear as you gently swayed to the beat. your arms wrapped around his neck, his on your waist, pulling each other as close as humanly possible. no words needed to be exchanged, content with the sound of each other’s breathing and the beating of your own hearts.

→ it was difficult to be excited for the day of your graduation when you knew this new beginning also meant the end of something else. the ceremony was over, everyone gathered underneath the sun. parents forced their children to take one more picture, students tearfully hugged their friends goodbye.

→ you and vernon stood side by side in the sidelines, watching it all unfold. both of you were out of your graduation gowns, diplomas in the hands of your parents for safekeeping. it was time, both of you knew that much.

“i love you.” vernon said, gaze still straight ahead, “you know that, right?”

“i do.” you nodded, a heavy sigh leaving your lips after. it was the first time he told you he loved you, through words at least, but his actions towards you in your months together always proved that he did. still, it was nice to hear. a wistful smile made its way to your features, “you don’t love me enough to hold on though, and i feel the same way too. ”

“yeah,” he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants, rocking back and forth on his feet, “first loves don’t usually last.”

you stayed quiet, ignoring the tiniest voice in your head that willed you to protest his words, knowing that it would lead nowhere if you did.

“but you’ll always remember them.” vernon continued his thought from earlier, finally turning to face you. he took your hands, “no matter what happens, or who comes along, you’re my first love. nothing’s going to ever change that fact.”

“you’re mine too.” you replied, trying to ingrain in your memory the warmth of his hands holding yours, how he looked at you with genuine love and regret. tears pricked the corners of your eyes, “i wouldn’t have traded our time together for anything else.”

“i love you, vernon.”

“i love you, yn.” he replied, the second and final time he spoke those words to you.

→ maybe you shouldn’t have put a deadline on your relationship, would things be different if you hadn’t? would it matter that you left town, attending a university hours away from him? would it matter that he quickly found success in his music? did it even matter that you were always the first to text him a ‘congratulations’ whenever as song of his went #1, and thoughts of him invaded your mind? did it matter that sometimes he laid in bed awake at night, wondering what could’ve been if he shared his moments of success with you?

❥• every now and then you pay a visit to your old high school. rarely were you ever back in town to do so, but you savored each step your feet took. they always lead you underneath the bleachers, your hand running over the words vernon had written so long ago. over time, they faded until they were eventually painted over. but you knew they were there, that those words existed, that you and vernon lived in that moment once upon a time. despite all the regrets and all the what ifs, the thought of those words alone brought you more comfort than you could ever imagine.

seventeen as all the boys you’ve loved and lost. next ➤ xu minghao, the boy you met at summer camp

taglist: @t-secretpot @serenadesvt @chuu-soulmate @pooofthechicken @yanniezx

ask/message to be part of the taglist <33

note; no thoughts head empty only high school bf!vernon,,, also why do these keep getting longer I swear I don't do it on purpose asdfghjkl at this rate I'll be at 15k words by the time I get to jihoon;( anyways, thank you so much for reading ! <33

110 notes · View notes

witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Note

AGH THAT CALLING YOU BY SOMEONE ELSE'S NAME FICLET/DRABBLE—

the angst potential!!! to be completely honest with you i have a writing blog but all i’ve ever crunched out are fluffy— gosh how i’d love some heartwrenching angst. if only i had the confidence to make something 😔

lately i've been obssessed with this prompt: you had confessed, but he doesn't feel the same. soon after, an accident happens that causes you to partially lose memories, including ones of him, and so your relationship has resetted back to square one: strangers. you had treated him like a close friend before: paid extra close attention, took care of him, tended to his wounds, made him laugh— basically the whole vip treatment. he finds himself missing the routine, and the longing grows stronger everyday, until finally, to his horror, he finds himself falling for you too, but now you've gotten close to another who had been your friend to but was lucky enough to still be a part of something you remember...

and one more thing!! idk if i would be able to participate at the oc event in your other blog 😭 you seem to be active around past midnight to morning where i'm from, so idk if i can submit her in time :')

(btw, if the length of my asks is annoying/bothering you, do tell me! i appreciate you wanting to lend an ear)

- 🍡

can i say that i think that prompt is *chefs kiss* - i’m a huge sucker for the ‘i lost my memory trope’ and now the character has to either 1. help them remember, 2. watch them slip away from them <3

I think you should give it a shot! Listen listen - I heard something somewhere that stuck out to me. What you create could never have been created by another person, only you have the insight, perspective, emotions to put to the page -- what you bring to this story, this song, or this work of art, is likely to connect with another and that small light you created will shine on within them.

I’d like one day to see a candle lit for every one of you, a candle that has your name on it and the imprint you left in this life no matter how big or small <3

(also! message me so we can chat about the event!)

#hazelmail

28 notes · View notes

bittersweetmelxdy · 4 years

Note

i was wondering if you could write headcanons about the guys being drunk af and accidently confess to MC

say hello to a real late request from me (by now this is totally on brand for me)

Drunk Confessions: Victor:

Victor is a very private person and I’d say he’d drinks wine regularly, so his alcohol tolerance is high, however sometimes he does overdo it, leading to tonight.

You had just finished applying a face mask to your face, and were standing in front of your bedroom mirror pulling the sheet mask from your face, and you were massaging the excess serum into your face and down your neck, humming a soft tune and dancing around the brightly lit room.

Leaving the bathroom, you wandered around your apartment tidying up all the mess you weren’t able to, as for the last week you had been swamped with work, hence your apartment upkeep had slipped a little bit. However, you stopped when you heard some firm knocking on your front door, noting the time which was far too late for visitors, but you still made your way over to the front door.

Peeking through the peephole in your front door, and to your surprise the person standing outside was Victor. You scrunched your brows, wondering why Victor was at your house, from what you remembered Victor should currently be at a gala for LFG. So why was he here, at your place?

You cautiously opened the door, to reveal Victor looming over your figure, his forearm resting on the doorframe, you noted his alcohol-induced blush and the heavy breathing, the scent of wine wafting over you, “Victor? What are you doing here?” you asked gently.

Victor pushed off the frame and waltzed around you into your apartment kissing your temple as he passed, falling back onto your couch, “Missed you.” his admission causing you to gasp and a smile twitched at the corner of your lips, Victor looked over at you giving you his usual glare but it lacked its usual bite and at that moment he reminded you of a cat.

You padded closer towards him, but once you were within arm’s reach, Victor felt you were still too far and simply stretched out his hand, latching around your wrist tightly and pulling you hard. With a yelp you tumbled into his embrace, tripping over your feet landing within his arms in a tumble of limbs, Victor kept his arms wrapped around you, humming in satisfaction, “You were too far.” Victor’s deep baritone rumbled through your ear, and you shivered at his timbre.

You choked on your breath, not expecting for 1) Victor to be this drunk and 2) that he even managed to find his way to your apartment. You remembered from before (Victor’s Asmr ‘Drunk in Love’) that Victor tended to get a tad more affectionate and dare you say “clingy” whilst drunk.

You resigned yourself to his warm embrace, (not really complaining with the position you’re in) and snuggled into his arms. Victor feeling your figure had fully relaxed, buried his nose in your hair and breathed in the subtle scent of your hair, “Just stay here, with me.” his voice whispered.

You giggled, “But I need to get you water and some painkillers-”

“Don’t need them.” Victor yawned afterwards

“You won’t be saying that tomorrow, come on let’s go together and then you get some rest.” You reached up and caressed Victor’s hair to placate him into letting you go.

Victor hearing the word “together”, seemed happy enough to release you enough to stand but once he was also standing he latched an arm around your waist, almost escorting you o the kitchen where you gave him a glass of water and reached to give him some painkillers from your medicine cabinet, the whole time Victor sleepily watched you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

Although your movements were restricted by Victor’s engulfing you in his presence, you were secretly happy at the rare form of affection you were seeing from the usually cold and standoffish CEO. Victor wouldn’t take the glass from you, and therefore you had to raise the glass, tilting it gently so he could drink the cool liquid, pausing slightly to pass him the painkillers, which he did take from your hand and push into his mouth. Once he was finished, you placed the glass into the sink, but you were unable to wash it as Victor immediately dragged you from the sink towards the bedroom.

Once there, Victor unbuttoned his waistcoat, struggling slightly to pull it off, and taking pity on him you helped him pull it off, placing it gently on a spare hanger and hooking it onto the door of your closet. Hearing Victor’s grunts of frustration you turned back around to see the normally capable CEO struggling to remove his tie, hearing your repressed giggles Victor looked up pouting.

“Need help?” you asked smiling, as you padded over, then you reached up carefully working to untangle the knot Victor had made of his tie, all the while he remained silent, staring down at you with soft eyes.

You were startled when Victor’s large hand caressed your hair, and you looked up startled, “What would I do without you, Dummy?” his voice was hoarse but showing fondness.

You pouted muttering, “Adding ‘Dummy’ at the end doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

Victor laughed finding your aggrieved expression adorable, “But you are a Dummy. MY precious Dummy.” he then yawned, blinking slowly and starting to sway showing he was barely awake. “But I only tell you that to keep your eyes on me.”

Your eyes became watery at Victor’s heartfelt admission and led Victor over to the bed and once you had tucked him in and turned to leave, Victor’s hand shot out of the blanket and grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t....” Victor’s eyes closed for a second, but he kept trying to keep them open, “Don’t... leave... me.”

You patted his hand gently, “I won’t leave, not until you fall asleep.”

Victor smiled gently, his deep eyes locking with yours as you smiled sweetly back, “Goodnight, I love you.” he said it so naturally then drifted off to sleep.

Your smile only grew, happy that the alcohol lowered his guard that you were finally able to hear what was in his heart. And reaching out and carefully brushing his hair back from his forehead you leaned down and placed a light kiss to his forehead, “Sweet Dreams Victor.”

Lucien:

Lucien to me doesn’t seem like the kind of person to drink regularly in public, as he a pretty calculating person and always likes to be aware of his surroundings, something which alcohol would impair. I believe that even if he’s over his alcohol limit and is a little tipsy, he’d be the master of hiding it, and making it seem like he was sober the whole time. However, there are always instances where he lets his guard down a little and unsurprisingly those instances just happen to coincidentally be in your presence.

You were humming along to the song coming from your earphones, as you walked up the stairs to your apartment. It was the end of the month and the end of the quarter, so your company was a little busier checking various reports and finishing paperwork, so you had worked overtime consistently for the last week. But finally, as the weekend began you were glad to finally see the end of your nights of overtime. But you stopped seeing a figure leaning on your front door.

Walking closer, inching your way down the hallway, you scrunched your brows before realising who it was.

“Lucien?” you placed your hand lightly on his shoulder, “Are you okay?”

Lucien turned his head, face flushed and eyes bleary, but once your features entered his vision his brain recognised you in an instance and the brightest smile grew on his face.

“Y/N? Why are you home so late?” Lucien reached out and pulled you over towards him, caging you between his looming figure and the apartment door, then he leaned down, nuzzling his nose in the hair atop your head.

You were a little confused, but noticing his shaky figure, you placed your hands on his sides to steady him, “Lucien where are your keys, I’ll let you in.” you asked.

Lucien leaned back, shaking his head at you, “Already tried, they don’t work...” he sighed resting his hand atop your hip, “Maybe I took the wrong keys, can you let us in?” his smooth voice, slightly pleading.

You were a tad confused, when it suddenly clicked, Lucien’s so drunk that he thinks you live together, at this train of thought, you felt your cheeks prickle with heat and you bit your lip to hide your growing smile. Pushing at his chest you managed to get him to back off, albeit with Lucien pouting in the most adorable fashion. You then turned around, fishing your keys from your bag and opened the door, the whole time Lucien’s comforting warmth surrounded you.

Once inside Lucien tried to pull you over to the living room’s couch, and despite his pulling you managed to placate him enough to sit by himself whilst you got some water for him and some painkillers. Reaching back to the living room, you noticed Lucien muttering to himself as he lay on his back staring at your ceiling, at your return he sluggishly sat up, beaming happily and looking closely you noticed that tears were gathering in his eyes.

“Y/N you came back, I missed you.” he spoke, and he only accepted the water from you after you were securely cuddled in his embrace. “You work too hard, I barely saw you this last week, I’m so proud of you but don’t make me worried.” he finished the statement by caressing your tresses gently.

You giggled; it turns out Lucien has no filter whilst drunk, but you were practically beaming at his attention, it always felt that Lucien was walking circles around you, but now for once he was delightfully honest with you. “Really, you were worried about me?” you interested in the reason why Lucien was so worried, and decided to push him a little, since he was in such an honest mood.

“I’m always worried about you.” you gasped at his honest words, eyes sparkling, “Aren’t you supposed to worry about the people you love?”

You didn’t respond for a minute and Lucien’s eyes became teary, thinking he had done something wrong, “Aren’t you?” he pouted, turning he head from you.

You quickly grabbed his face, cradling his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs gently atop the apples of his cheeks, “You love me?”

“How... could... I not?” Lucien closed his eyes, drifting in and out of sleep throughout his sentence.

Concerned about him, you helped him lay back down, tucking a blanket around him, and once he was soundly asleep, a couple tears slipped from your eyes, overwhelmed with the emotion, and brushing your hand through his hair, you really hoped he would remember this when he woke up.

Kiro:

Oh, you know this boy is a lightweight, not quite a one drink drunk but after at least a couple he’s down and out.

You knew exactly where Kiro was, as you sat at home enjoying your day off to catch up on the TV series you had heard everyone talking about recently, Kiro had been active on social media, posting pictures on his Moments and Story, showing the fun time he was having at the BS Company Banquet. You had giggled at the funny moments and the various comments from fans and other people in attendance, as you watched the show.

But later just as you were about to start the finale episode, you heard some very excited knocking on your front door. You hopped up, shuffling in your slippers over to the door, and looking through the peephole you were shocked to see a bright blue eye blocking the view.

“Um... Hello?” you called, tentatively.

“Surprise Miss Chips!” an excited voice called through the door.

“Kiro?” you quickly unlatched the door, and as soon as it was open you received an armful of the hyperactive puppy of a superstar. Kiro laughed boyishly as he picked you up, walking into your apartment with you still in his embrace. “What are you doing here?” you asked, as he lowered you to the floor.

“Well I was at the party and I suddenly thought ‘Man, I miss Miss Chips’ so here I am.” Kiro announced proudly, presenting his arms in a flourish.

“Aw, you missed me?” you played along, grabbing Kiro’s wrist and leading him into the kitchen.

“No, you’re doing it wrong. It’s let this.” Kiro stopped you, pulled his wrist from your grip and then grabbed your hand interlocking your fingers tightly, you shook your head smiling, thinking to yourself ‘Man is he drunk!’ and continued your journey to the kitchen.

You filled a glass with water with one hand, as Kiro refused to let go of you, and then handed him some painkillers, he looked from you to the painkillers, but at your hopeful gaze he quickly downed the water and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he waited for your praise which you freely gave. “Wow, Kiro!”

Leading him back over the living room couch, you were stopped once again, this time by Kiro’s sniffles, shocked you turned around to see what was wrong, “Hey Superstar, you okay?” you kept your voice soft, but it made him cry harder.

“M-m-m-miss C-chips, you’re, you’re always so nice to me, and you look, you look after me as well.” he sat down still crying and holding onto your hand tightly.

“Isn’t that what friends do?” you tried to placate him, his distress tugging at your heartstrings.

“B-b-but you’re so pretty, I don’t want to be friends with you anymore.” Kiro’s tears continued to flood down his cheeks.

“Oh no Kiro why?” panic did start to rise within you at his tears.

“I love you, but you’re so pretty, and smart, you’re way out of my league.” he pouted, looking like an abandoned puppy.

You knelt down reaching out with you free hand and cradling his face in your hand, “Sunshine, you’re the one out of my league, don’t beat yourself up like that, okay?”

“You love me too.” his tone was tinged in hope.

You had a feeling he wouldn’t remember this in the morning, so you decided to be honest, “Yeah, Sunshine I love you a lot, I’ve loved you for a while now.”

Kiro pulled you into his arms leaning back so you were both lying on the couch tangled in each other's arms, “Not as much and as long as me, Miss Chips.”

You giggled happily, nudging his jaw with your nose, “It’s not a competition Superstar.”

Kiro yawned, and he started to drift off, playing with the strands of soft hair and his breathing started to become slow and rhythmic, and even you started to become drowsy as your ear rested atop his chest and you could hear the steady beat of his heart.

Minutes stretched out between you two, and you actually thought that Kiro had already drifted off to sleep, but to your surprise he suddenly said in a sleepy tone, “Miss Chips?”

“Yeah, Sunshine?”

“If it was a competition, would I win?”

You huffed a laugh, “Of course you would.”

“Always?”

“Always. Now go to sleep.” with this the two of you finally drifted gently off happily to sleep.

Gavin:

Done before, and it’s found here: a little dose of liquid courage

233 notes · View notes

vecnawrites · 4 years

Text

Nora’s Mistaken Confession

Nora tries to confess to Ren, but in her haste she doesn’t notice she just confessed to Jaune, but luckily for her the blonde knight has had a massive crush on her the entire time. Lewdness ensues. (Mistaken Identity, Hidden/Stealth Sex)

(Birthday gift for thatrandombrowno. Happy Birthday!)

Nora bit her lip as she lay awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling. This had been going on too long! For too long she had not spoken to Ren about her feelings for him, and it was driving her nuts! Each day her heart squeezed a bit more, her brain and heart telling her to admit it, even if it ended badly. She could deal with it if he only wanted to stay friends...that just meant nothing would change between them.

Her brow furrowed and she sat up, allowing the blankets to pool around her waist. Carefully, she stepped out of bed in the pitch dark room, since that was the only way any of them could sleep. She took several deep breaths as she fumbled her way through the dark in the direction of Ren’s bed. She could do this. All she had to do was slip into his bed, wrap her arms around him, and confess. Easy.

The orangette was pulled from her thoughts as her shin knocked into a bed frame, lightly, but enough to make her wince. Rubbing it, she grabbed the blanket and lifted it up, carefully climbing into the bed and wrapping herself around Ren’s body like a limpet. In her haste, she failed to notice that the body she was hugging was taller and more densely muscled.

She nuzzled into his back, squeezing him until she heard and felt a grunt, signifying that he was awake. “Don’t speak yet, please.” Nora’s voice was pleading, quivering. Feeling him still, she took a deep breath to gather her courage. “I need to get this out before I lose my nerve. After that, you can talk, okay?”

She felt him nod, and she took another deep breath, hugging him tightly. “I...I love you.” she murmured, feeling him stiffen. “I have for a long time, I think. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same for me, I just needed to get this out.” she took a shaky breath. There. She said it. She could handle whatever came now.

Things were still and silent for an incredibly long moment, before he began to move, rolling in her arms and wrapping his own arms around her and pulling her close, pressing her perky tits to his chest. His broad chest. She blinked. What…? Sniffing, she picked up the scent of sadalwood, rather than the lavender and chamomile smell she associated with Ren.

Mortification filled her. She had confessed to Jaune, not Ren! She wanted to sink through the bed and vanish. She wouldn’t lie to anyone, let alone herself: she had harbored a crush on the blonde knight, but chose to ignore it when they all were placed on the same team, focusing her attentions on Ren. Opening her mouth to apologize, she squeaked as a mouth slammed into her own, kissing her fiercely.

Her eyes widened as Jaune’s lips pressed against her own, feeling a tongue slipping into her mouth as she gasped. She squirmed as she felt that tongue attacking hers, pressing against her tongue, rubbing over her teeth and gums, while strong hands moved down her back and cupped her rear, fingers curling and digging into the flesh.

Her eyes widened as her butt was squeezed, and she was slowly rolled so she was on her back underneath him as he devoured her mouth. She whimpered into his mouth as those hands left her rear and moved up, thumbs hooking into the bottom of her sleep shirt and pulling it up, exposing the flat plane of her belly as the thin tank top bunched up underneath her breasts for a long moment, before the thin cotton slipped over her breasts.

Her cheeks burned brightly; even if the lights were off, she was pretty much topless. The hands moved again, slipping into her shorts and pushing them down to mid-thigh, along with her panties. Now her mortification, and arousal, doubled. She was bare where she should be covered!

The kiss was broken, and she heard a soft whisper. “I’m glad to hear it, Nora...I’ve felt for you a long time as well...be quiet, though...we can’t afford to wake the others…” before those sinful lips kissed her neck, making a soft gasp escape her lips, not only from the feelings, but the knowledge that Jaune liked her as well.

She bit her lower lip as Jaune moved down, pressing kisses along her breasts, taking one of her sensitive nipples into his mouth as one of his hands delved between her thighs and began rubbing her sensitive pussy. Her hands shot up and clamped over her mouth, smothering the whimpers and moans emerging from her mouth...however, nothing could cover up the squishing, slick noises between her thighs as Jaune’s fingers played with her core.

Pulling away from her core, she felt Jaune shift before a sucking noise, making her shiver as she realized he was sucking his fingers, cleaning them of her juices.

Another shift, and she felt something long and hard slap onto her bare belly, the sound of a sharp inhale filling the air around them as he pulled his hips back, that hard shaft slipping between her thighs. He paused as his head pressed against her lips. “This is your chance to say no, Nora...otherwise,” he prodded against her, saying nothing more.

Nora swallowed, her pussy leaking, her fluids following the curve of her ass. She knew she had been pent up, stressed and unable to actually take care of herself due to sharing a dorm, but should she do this? She swallowed, her feelings for Jaune coming back with a vengeance. “Y-Yes…” she whispered.

She wasn’t sure who moved first, herself or Jaune, all she knew was that all of a sudden she was spread wide and Jaune’s hips were pressed against her own. She shuddered as she clamped her hands back over her mouth again, clenching around Jaune’s shaft tightly.

Jaune waited scant moments before he began to thrust, slowly rolling his hips back and forth, gentle sighs and moans coming from the blonde’s mouth. “This feels so good, Nora...How does it feel for you?” he groaned.

Nora didn’t trust herself to speak, as feelings of pleasure were flowing through her so intensely she was afraid she would scream or cry out. However, she was sure that her clenching around his cock was telling him everything that he needed to know, especially when she worked her shorts and panties down and off one leg so she could wrap them around Jaune’s waist.

A husked chuckle entered her ears. “Glad you think so too, Nora…” Jaune grunted, his hips picking up a bit of speed. He hated the fact that he was already so close, but attributed it to the fact he was finally getting the girl he wanted, mixed with the fact that it had been a while since he had gotten off...never mind the fact that he was also a virgin. But he could tell that he wasn’t alone, Nora’s walls were rippling and flexing around him. Feeling his balls churning tightly, he knew that he wouldn’t last...just as he knew that he wasn’t going to pull out due to Beacon’s mandatory birth control regiment on the girls. He wouldn’t make it out in time anyway, he was already “Cumming!” he groaned softly, hips bucking wildly into Nora’s, his cock pulsing and shooting out thick ropes of cum, deep into Nora’s core.

Nora keened into her hands as she came hard, squeezing the squirting cock in her tightly, refusing to let it go until it was empty. Harsh pants came from both as their orgasms bled into one another, rising and riding high, until they finally tapered down, the pair slumping onto the bed, sweaty and breathing hard, Jaune’s cock softening within Nora’s pussy.

Slowly, he pulled out, slipping his shorts back up and blindly helping Nora do the same, while the orangette pulled her top down, snuggling into Jaune, closing her eyes and starting to drift off as her fearless leader wrapped his arms around her, content and happy. Her confession may have been an accident, but she couldn’t deny that the outcome was something she enjoyed...and something she wanted to repeat.

#Nora's Arc #Nora Valkyrie #Jaune Arc #Mistaken Identity #Stealth Sex

174 notes · View notes

prinxlyart · 4 years

Note

I need to know what was betted on and who won the most also all the parents were prob super emotional just Eda was like "I wont cry" then 5 minutes in shes on the floor cause her baby is all grown up Camilla spent like an extra half hour making sure Luz's outfit was perfect King pretends he doesnt care but he's really bad at hiding it and Willow's dads are just a wreck depending on how bad the Blight parents are in this scenario they could be the ones paying for the mega extravagant wedding

In terms of the betting:

Eda thinks that Amity wouldn’t have the guts to confess and would only do so if forced to. She thinks Luz would beat them all to the punch either due to her “misplaced confidence” or on accident.

Lilith thinks she knows her ex student better than that and thinks that she’ll be able to summon the courage, but maybe needs a push. She doesn’t know Willow at all, but she’s starting to get to know Luz.

King thinks Luz would be the first one to confess but also agrees with Eda in that Amity wouldn’t have the guts, but Willow might.

Gus thinks they all have a fair shot (and is only 12 anyway, Eda and Lilith agree that he shouldn’t take part in a betting pool [king takes his money anyway when the two women aren’t around. Gus tells him quietly that he’s putting his money on Willow getting sick of dancing around their feelings and just belting it out.]).

Emira has faith in her baby sister but thinks Luz would just blurt it out like word vomit and be the first to confess.

Edric thinks similarly to Gus in that Willow would be the first to snap, but he thinks Luz would be the first to spill.

In terms of the wedding (under a read more cuz this shit got LONG):

*****extremely American-based generic wedding ceremony. No mention of any kinds of religious traditions that I can think of*****

Eda absolutely cries. A lot. She denies it every time, but she takes every single tissue Camila offers her. I think Lilith cries too, not nearly as much as Eda, but I think in like. A combination of pride and relief? Relief in that they’ve all come so far with one another that they invited her to join them for their special day. Pride in that she’s watched these girls grow up and become the strongest, kindest witches the Boiling Isles has ever seen.

I think Camila is the kind of person that would busy herself with the details of wedding planning and outfits and catering so she doesn’t have to face the fact that her baby is all grown up and getting married. Her baby that didn’t go to that awful summer camp and found instead an incredible life for herself with two amazing people that love her for who she is, not who society wants her to be. She’s never been so proud in her life. She definitely cries.

King is the ring bearer!!! After they all pick up their respective rings, he has to hide his face behind the pillow to cover up the tears. He’s also happy and proud of Luz and everything she’s been able to accomplish in the time that he’s known her. She changed his entire world and he couldn’t be happier for her.

Willow’s dads are also crying messes. They’re trying their best to record the event but their hands are too shaky because they’re crying so much (don’t worry, Camila hired a professional). Their baby girl has grown into such a beautiful, strong young woman who managed to find not just one, but two people that love her more than life itself and have helped her flourish into the powerful, confident witch she is now.

Amity’s parents have done some shady shit in the past when it comes to their children. But over the course of the last decade, I like to think they’ve realized their errors (probably due to Luz and Willow literally screaming at them for being such shit heads in their own home) and are working on trying to be better parents. Deep deep beneath those cold, hard exteriors they do actually love their children. It just took an ice pick and a LOT of time to dig those hearts out. They of course pay for the entire affair, even when the Parks try to offer what they have.

Camila, who also had her own stern conversation with the Blight parents (maybe within the last 5 years? After she’s already met and gotten to know Amity and her siblings and found out about how they were treated growing up), was definitely okay with letting the Blights pay for everything. They had the money and while she didn’t go nuts with her seemingly unlimited budget, she also didn’t skimp on anything. Those girls deserved more than what any of them had to offer, so she made sure to put as much effort into the event as possible.

And definitely had to drag Odalia by the ear out of the Blight Manor for some of the event planning meetings. The Clawthorne sisters and the Parks were less than pleased to see Odalia show up to the meeting, but Camila explained that in order to start being a better mother, she needs to actually be there to support her daughter. And not just financially. She needed to make an effort. After a couple of strained meetings, Odalia brought some homemade treats that everyone loved and she admitted she made them herself. If she was going to put effort into these things, she had to start somewhere. She was pretty out of practice.

Alador was a little bit easier to teach how to be a loving and supportive parent while they planned everything out; he mostly just spoke at length with the twins. After having a super emotional conversation with his eldest kids, he vowed to himself that he was going to change for the better. He owed it to his family. He started spending more time one on one with Amity, then Willow (apologizing for the whole birthday situation from when Willow and Amity were little), then Luz. He found himself actually eager to spend time with them and learn about them and what his daughter means to them. He didn’t understand the whole polyamorous thing at first? But after spending time with his future daughters-in-law he understands perfectly.

By the time the wedding actually happens, both Blight parents have grown and developed their hearts enough to cry at their daughter’s wedding. They hold each other and understand how lucky they are to be allowed back into Amity’s life. They knew they didn’t deserve it, they’ve done so much wrong they need to atone for, but they’re grateful that their brilliant, beautiful daughter found people that taught her how to be so brilliant without any magic at all, just love. Alador can barely keep himself together during the ceremony; he and Edric are a couple of faucets with how many tears they’re shedding. Odalia’s a little more put together (a lifetime of rigidity will do that to you), but she’s smiling and holding her husband’s hand and crying too. She can’t remember the last time her heart has felt so warm.

How drunk does Eda get at the reception? Just enough to stop crying and start partying. Lilith is constantly having to drag her down from table tops and counters. (Alador and Edric are in similar boats. Amity has never in her life seen her father act like this. She considers it a wedding present honestly.)

#prinxly inquiries #b-yoshisaurus #the owl house #willumity #hot damn this one got LONG #Me: accidentally writes the premise of a whole fanfic rather than just answering the questions #🤷🏻‍♀️

124 notes · View notes

vaire-gwir · 3 years

Text

Some Cat and Wolf fanfic I had in mind pt.5

oh look, another chapter no one asked for! For some reason this story looks like a collection of one shot poorly glued together, but technically (”if you have to use the word technically you’re already in trouble” Cit.) I know where I’m going.

I kept hinting at a very specific scar I think Aiden has, so here’s the story of that scar. Awkward love confession ensues.

All my love to everyone that reads this mess, please let me know what you think! <3

***

They were hunting a wyvern, somewhere outside Sodden. 700 crowns had been promised for the head of the beast. Well, just the poison, to be honest, but the point was that the creature had to die. It was their last job before heading north and eventually parting for winter.

They'll never get that far.

Killing any wyvern-like monster is complicated business, those fuckers are huge and sharp just about everywhere, not to mention poisonous. When they manage to dispose of the creature without any severe accident it doesn't feel right for some reason, call it Witcher senses or however you want, but things don't add up. Lambert can still hear Aiden's voice telling him that it's too many corpses for just one beast.

He grits his teeth when he hears a growl immediately followed by the sound of rustling trees and claws scraping on stone. He looks to his left at the Cat exploring the northern side of the cave and Aiden is staring right back at him, he gracefully waves a hand in the general direction of the sound and put on his best I Told You So attitude: there will be snarky remarks about this later but he kindly spares him the comments, for now.

Suddenly, there's nothing graceful about the way he tumbles to the ground, red seeping through the blue and black of his armor like sand in a child's hand. He's running to Aiden's side in a heartbeat, that's all it takes for panic to fill his system like the stench of blood fills his senses. He sees the armor pierced where the tail of the beast tore through the plates and they both know that whatever can dig through metal like that can also do an awful lot of damage to the flesh and bones underneath. Lambert already knows that something is very wrong.

He falls to the ground next to his Cat and he desperately clutches his body, catching the sweetly sick trace of poison still lingering in the air: one look at the wound is enough for his fear to spike and eat him up whole. It's too much blood even for a Witcher.

"Aiden?" Lambert's voice is shaking like his hands as he brushes a few locks of damp curls out of his lover's forehead, feeling the familiar beating sound of his heart growing even slower than usual.

Aiden blinks a couple of times, pain coursing through his entire body and stealing his breath away as he tries to speak. "That...ugly, uh?" Lambert can barely hear his whisper above the noise of the beast outside, the growling so loud it almost rivals the thumping of his own frightened heart echoing in his ears. He reaches for a vial of White Honey while he keeps an eye on the pale form in his arms.

"Just...drink this, alright? I'll...I'll fix this, I can fix this, just...hang on for me, okay?" He supports Aiden up while he helps him drink the potion, helplessness and desperation washing over him in dark waves as all he can do is stare at the blood staining his clothes and dripping to the floor. Lambert tightens his grip on the Cat's shoulders as if holding him was his only way to keep him whole, to not let him slip away from him.

He can see it on Aiden's face that it hurts to breathe, his eyes are clouded and unfocused and he feels as if a cold hand was squeezing his own heart in an iron grip.

"Lambert, you don't have to..." His whole body tenses up, green eyes go wide for a second before fluttering close against the rising pain and shock of the poison.

"Aiden?" He tentatively calls him again but there's no answer this time. Witchers may be strong and powerful, but so is the wyvern's poison, and not many live to tell the tale. An unfamiliar ache climbs inside him and he tries to blink burning tears away from his eyes as he carefully lays Aiden back down.

Lambert can hear the monster above them digging his sharp talons in the stone on the side of the mountain, and his senses are telling him to focus, to move, to prepare for the fight, but all he can do is stare at Aiden's pale complexion, too grey and ashy even for a witcher. There's a part of his mind spiraling into fear and shutting down cause Aiden could die, Aiden is wounded and he doesn't know how to fix it, he doesn't know how to help him, and why I never know how to fix anything?

He tentatively takes another look at the wound, moving the damaged pieces of the armor aside, exposing the torn blue fabric and skin underneath. The potion is reducing the blood flow but it's a slow process with a gash that deep. The broken sound of pain Aiden makes is like a punch in his guts and the only thing he has to offer in consolation is a pathetic string of whispered "I'm sorry"s.

Lambert digs through his own pack in search of clean bandages to wrap around Aiden's chest while the noise around them grows with every passing second. If the growling and screeching of the beast is any indication, it must be massive. And they unintentionally made it furious because they killed its mate.

Lambert is frantically looking around searching for shelter but he knows there's nowhere to hide in the cavern. The cave is bare except for the opening on the north, where the sharp tail came lashing out before. Going outside is out of the question, Aiden already lost too much blood and he doesn't dare to move him, but they're too exposed here.

The dark tail of the wyvern whipping out again distracts him from his panic and it's enough for him to focus on the task ahead. His only chance of saving Aiden is keeping this thing out of the cave. He is willing to make peace with the fact that this is where he dies, in a godsforsaken corner of the world where his life is worth exactly 700 crowns, but he's not ready to resign Aiden to the same fate.

Lambert cuts the rest of the blue shirt open and securely ties the bandages over the wound. Their packs are well within Aiden's reach, pouch with their potions already open for when he wakes up, if he wakes up, there should be enough White Honey for him to at least drag himself back to their horses and into town. It's a plan, it's a shitty plan, but it's his best chance at keeping the man he loves alive. It will have to be enough.

***

There's a deep ache in his bones and his left side is scraped and bruised but he wastes no time thinking about it. It was a sloppy job, not his best witcher work but it's done, and for reasons beyond his comprehension, he's still alive.

When he stumbles back into the cave and to Aiden, the Cat is barely breathing and he looks a fraction closer to death with every exhale. He can't smell any lingering traces of poison, though he's not really in the position to call it progress, considering that there's still a hole the size of his hand just beneath Aiden's ribs and he saw the white of the bone with every breath while he was bandaging him earlier. Earlier seems a lifetime ago now.

Lambert starts to slowly take off the rest of the armor, trying to jostle the unconscious Witcher as little as possible. He makes quick work of the familiar buckles and clasps he learned to know, for he has undressed him so many times before, desperate to feel the warm skin under his hands or taking his sweet time and taking him apart. Never like this though, never with the dark cloud of death looming dangerously over his head.

The only sound out of Aiden's lips is a muffled groan when he cuts the bandages open to swipe a wet cloth around the gash, and the rational side of him knows it's better if Aiden doesn't wake up in the next minutes cause cleaning and stitching a wound that size is not something anyone would want to go through awake. His rational side though is not enough to stop him from thinking the worst, and he wants nothing more than to glance into the piercing green eyes he loves once again.

He cleans the edges of the cut again before picking up the needle and thread, willing his hands to stop shaking as he starts to slowly close the wound, focusing on the repetitive moves to calm his mind. His entire self is focused on one single thought: Aiden is dying. And in rapid succession, he's everything I have.

It's not the first time he patches Aiden up. Part of the reason why they know each other's scars so well, physical and not, is because they stitched them up themselves, bruised skin and broken spirits alike. The physical ones were less complicated though, it's easier to check the progress of healing when you can see new skin blooming under an injury. Being a Witcher sped up the process by a lot, so in two days a deep claw mark across a forearm would be like new, but mutations or not, no one knows how long it takes for a damaged mind to bloom anew over the past suffering.

The night is endless, and the darkness trickles away at such a slow pace that it seems the sun forgot to rise. The Wolf doesn't even try to sleep, he sits by the fire with his back against the wall, cleaning and sharpening his swords with his eyes lost in the dancing flames.

It physically hurts him to keep staring at Aiden. He looks like he's sleeping but Lambert knows it's all wrong: it's not natural how still he is, how he doesn't even flinch once, his eyelids are not fluttering like when he's dreaming, his breathing is not regular like it should be when he's resting after a hunt or they're curling up in a patch of sunlight-warm grass, and the beating of his heart, the sound that lulled him to sleep so many times, falters in a disturbing rhythm.

Lambert doesn't remember being this scared in his entire life. Sure, there was fear during the trials, it was a different kind though, he was just a kid back then. A couple of times he came back from a job badly wounded and almost out of potions and he knew he was tiptoeing dangerously close to the end of the Path, but losing his life didn't scare him. There was not much to lose, to begin with. Sometimes it even sounded like a relief, no more Witcher bullshit, about fucking time.

But he was not the one bleeding in a cave, it was not his miserable life on the line here. This was different, he was losing something important now, something that mattered, something he needed. He couldn't lose Aiden.

There is a word for this mess inside of him, for the sharp twist in his heart he has been feeling every time he sees Aiden's crooked smile but it's out of reach for someone like him. He tried to ignore it and shove it away, pretending it was not there and acting as if they were no more than friends with the benefit of sex and watching each other's back during hunts. And it was already more than he should hope for, surely more than he deserved.

If he allows himself to believe that he can have something nice, that he can feel something more than rage just for once, there will be a price to pay. Not with gold, but with the suffering and the loneliness left behind after your friends or loved ones are gone. Life on the Path was solitary for a reason, it was nothing short of presumptuous of him to let himself get close to someone. It was a delusion he already entertained, and one he promised he wouldn't do again. He is not made for love, and he is surely not made to be loved.

Lambert can easily imagine his brothers' reaction if they were ever to meet Aiden and find out they've been together. He can feel the disapproval and rejection radiating off of them as if they were right here in front of him. And worst of all, he can see the disappointment in Vesemir's eyes crystal clear. You will bump into other Witchers on the Path occasionally, the old man said, most of them will even welcome the company, Griffins and Bear especially. But you stay the hell away from Cats and Vipers, they'd kill their own brothers for the right price, don't think they wouldn't kill another Witcher just for fun. Aiden didn’t kill people though, but that makes for a very poor argument.

Will they kick him out of Kaer Morhen before or after he explains? Will they avoid him every time they meet on the Path, pretend they don't know him, act as if he's already dead? He's always been the resident School of the Wolf failure after all, the thought of his family's refusal scares him, but it won't be a surprise.

What scares him even more than his family's reaction though is Aiden leaving. It's some kind of miracle that he hasn't left already, and to be fair, Lambert expects him to go every single time they reach a city big enough to offer employment to the both of them.

If he stayed until now it was just because it was a suitable agreement, more hunts, more coins, fewer expenses, and awesome sex. Love was not part of the deal. Aiden could always go back to the Caravan, ditch him, and pick a different lover in every new town. It's a mystery why he hasn't done that yet. Why would he ever stay? He's hardly worth the trouble.

Aiden's pained groan shakes him out of his thoughts. As he lets go of the last of his knives, he turns to look at the stirring form a few paces away. He's met with the reassuring green of his eyes, a little bloodshot and tired, but very much alive. It's more than what he dared to hope a few hours ago.

Aiden looks down his chest at the red-stained bandages, his mind filling the blanks of what must have happened after the wyvern got him, before whispering: "You patched me up pretty good, uh?"

Lambert doesn't answer, the surge of relief flooding him overwhelms him for a second. He shouldn't care this much, but he does. Dammit, he does. "Well, I have another scar for my collection. Did you kill it?" Lambert makes a vaguely affirmative sound and points to a set of vials with a sleek blueish liquid inside. Their 700 crowns of poison, that's how valuable their life is.

Aiden slowly sits up, taking in their surroundings. "Seems I was pretty useless for the main action." He stares at Lambert, yellow eyes trained to the fire, and lets go of an exasperated sigh. He can feel that something is off because the Wolf seems determined to avoid looking at him.

"Lambert, talk to me, will you? Did you stitch me just to ignore me?" Aiden's voice is quiet in the cave, just a whisper over the fire, and Lambert almost wants to pretend he didn't hear it. He has nothing to say, nothing he can say. Because he has too much to say, and he's worried that if he starts talking he'll spill something stupid.

"You died," he finally breaths out. "I saw you...passing out...and...and you were...." Lambert signs at his chest as if that explains it all, unable to find the words to justify the urgency in his voice. "...Dead, and I...I didn't know what to do."

"I'm fine!" Aiden moves closer to where the other is sitting by the fire. He didn't miss the shiver in his tone. He lays a hand on his knee, squeezing it in a way that was meant to be reassuring, but it only makes Lambert think about how much he'd miss his touches, how much he'd miss his eyes, and his voice, and his smile, and all the little things he forces himself not to think about.

"I'm fine Wolf. You killed the wyvern and harvested the poison, you did everything right." He pats the dressing wrapped around his torso like it's no big deal and Lambert wants to scream at him or throw something at him, maybe both, cause he shouldn't be this easygoing and calm, not after he almost died and Lambert feels like his whole world has turned upside-down.

He moves his hand to cover the one on his leg, a sudden need to reach out, to touch, to feel that Aiden is really alive and he's not just dreaming, but he lets it drop back in his lap after a second, he doesn't dare to touch him back, not yet. "I didn't know what to do without you," he whispers lowering his eyes.

"It doesn't look like you needed my help at all, I was pretty passed out." Aiden starts picking at the bandages, slowly untying them, and Lambert looks at him out of the corner of his eyes, the ghost of his touch still lingering on his leg and he realizes that he's screwed.

"That's...you know what, nevermind." Totally screwed. Not only he was stupid enough to fall for someone, but it also had to be this Cat, someone he can't have. It had to be someone he so obviously doesn't deserve.

"Are you trying to say you'd miss me? I'm flattered Wolf," Aiden says as he raises his eyes to meet the yellow ones with a little smirk on his lips.

"Unbearable, that's what you are. And to think I even stitched you up." This, Lambert knows how to do this. It's easy to pretend nothing changed if he doesn't let himself think about it. Crushes disappear with time, with a little bit of luck he'll manage to avoid saying something utterly ridiculous like I love you.

"Oh come on, you love me! And, I'm a great fuck." "I do....Fuck, I meant you are." Dammit. He wants to run as far as his legs will carry him, cause he fucked up, he fucked up so bad now, and he's not sure he'll ever be able to look Aiden in the eyes again. He shouldn't have said that, why in the world would any sane person ever say something stupid like that?

Aiden drops the bandages he's holding and looks up at Lambert, pupils wide and swallowing the sea of sparkling green around them. Aiden's eyes always seem to be able to pierce a hole in his soul and see past whatever mask or cover he wears, sometimes he's just nice enough to not call Lambert out on his bullshit.

"Shit, I didn't mean..." This is not how it's supposed to go, they don't say things like that, they're supposed to bicker until one of them grows tired of the game and either stop answering or push the other against the first flat surface available.

"Don't you dare take it back now." Aiden's voice sounds deeper, and there's no trace of the rejection or disgust Lambert was expecting. He moves too quickly and he sits right in front of him, so close to his stretched legs that he can feel the heat of his skin underneath his trousers. Stupid Cat habit of always being in his personal space. He can't think when he's so close.

"I won't hear it if you take it back now," Aiden says, there is a trace of something in his tone that Lamber heard before, but he's suddenly very conscious of how beautiful Aiden looks, and he can't place it. Nobody should look so fine after almost dying. How someone so gorgeous could ever feel something for him?

"I thought you were never going to say it." Lambert surprisingly finds himself with an armful of Cat, arms wrapped around his shoulders and chest pressed against his, he's whispering something Lambert doesn't catch, and all he can do is stare in front of him in disbelief. He's desperately trying to make sense of Aiden's words, why he's holding him instead of pushing him away and leaving, but his mind is a blank slate.

It's hard to think about running away when Aiden's scent is all around him, and the rhythm of his heartbeat is back to the normal comforting sound Lambert is used to. Instead, he brings his shaking hands around Aiden's waist, gingerly touching him like he was afraid to break him. "I...You died and...I...Can't lose you." It just feels right to have Aiden in his arms and it's so easy to get lost in him and pretend the real world is not waiting for them just outside this cave.

"I know, Lambert, I know. I love you too." Aiden's breath tickles the side of his neck, and he knows it must be obvious to the Cat how his heart rate is spiking, rushing to keep up with the confusion in his head.

"You...You what?" Lambert asks, and his voice is shaking. "It's a mystery how you never noticed, honestly." He feels Aiden's smile against his skin while one of his hands trails to the back of his neck, fingers curling at the nape.

"Why?" Aiden doesn't answer, he moves back enough to bring their lips together, a soft purr rumbling in his chest. This can't be real. He'll wake up in a second or two in their bed at the inn and none of this will be real. None of this can ever be real.

Aiden breaks the kiss just to whisper "Why not?" against his mouth, sharing the same breath for a second before tangling his hand in the dark hair, licking Lambert's lips and demanding entrance. The only thing better than holding Aiden is kissing him, and Lambert can feel the naked skin under his palms so blessedly warm and alive, and he's reminded in an instant of what brought them here. Did Aiden say he loved him too? A low moan involuntarily escapes his throat, and all he can focus on is the feeling of his lover's tongue moving against his own.

When they break apart to catch their breath he can't help but splutter out the burning question he can't swallow: "You should be miles away from here." Aiden looks at him, one hand gently brushing his cheek, the touch of his fingers a real presence anchoring him to reality. "But I'm still here."

"I'll hurt you, you know me...I'm not good at this." Lambert gestures vaguely at the space between them as if it held the confused shape of his feelings and he was trying to give it some definition. If he could be ashamed, he'd probably be blushing to the roots of his hair. "I know. So will I. And I'll forgive you. As I hope you'll forgive me." Aiden presses another kiss to his lips, just a small touch of warmth. And just this once, Lambert believes him. Cause why not, right?

***

Lambert is leaving Toussaint tomorrow and he can't help but think back to the main events that brought him here years ago. Everything is different now. He swore he'd do his best and more to never feel the same dread he felt after that nasty business with the wyverns, but it was not enough.

His room at the inn is unbearably hot in the mid-summer afternoon and he's almost glad to head back north. He heard of a griffin contract south of Temeria, he can make it in a week or so if he travels fast. He glances out of the window and down to the street, the white cat he saw before is still sleeping on the chair just outside the bakery. If the small animal were to wake up, Lambert could see again how green its eyes were. The baker doesn't have a cat, of course, he doesn't, never had, Lambert already asked.

Seven. That's how many times his miserable brain decided that it would be so much fun to play tricks on his eyes and convince him there was a cat. Seven animals. Different colours, different types, different places, but always the same pair of green eyes. He should consider seeing a healer at some point. Maybe he's been cursed. Or maybe he's been haunted. The hunter being hunted by a monster he can’t slay, how fitting.

Time seems to pass in such a weird way lately, the days all have the same colours and the same scent of melancholy and sadness. Summer was Aiden's favourite time of the year, it made him all soft and relaxed in a way that made even Lambert feeling warmer for more reasons than just the weather.

He never liked summers. Nothing fun about wearing and armor when you're sweating all the time. That's what he always thought, or at least until he saw Aiden comfortably napping under the sunlight, all sprawled out in the grass and purring contently, his skin was hot to the touch and as much as Lambert didn't want to disturb him, he was irresistible.

He has so many memories of sunny days spent fucking on river banks, napping in the shade of a great tree, or cuddling in a cheap room rented for a few coins until sunset, when they could start traveling again unbothered. Yeah, summer was not so bad after all. Or maybe it was just being with Aiden that made things better.

Someone once told him that sweet memories could help a person through dark times. Lambert wants to find that someone and punch him in the face several times cause no, it doesn’t work like that. His memories were not helping or making him feel better, they were making him go crazy and he’d rather tear them right out of his mind one by one than spend another night thinking about Aiden or other cats with green eyes.

That's a lie. He could never live without those memories now, they are part of the baggage that makes up his life, and sometimes it's a heavy burden to shoulder, but forgetting sounds even worse than carrying that weight around. It happened, he loved someone and it was real, he was more than a monster in someone else's eyes and that was worth the pain.

#lambden #laiden #witcher lambert #witcher aiden #aiden x lambert #lambert x aiden #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fandom #the witcher fic #idiots in love #quarantine writing #I lost a friend I lost my mind #I lost a friend #awkward love confession #fluf #And the usual angst

15 notes · View notes

cjrae · 5 years

Text

The Monster And The Man. Or: Why is Dan’s emotional catharsis less sympathetic than Lucifer’s?

If there’s one character that people seem to be angrier at than Chloe Decker, it’s Dan Espinoza. Chloe came much closer to crossing an unforgivable line in Season 4 than I think many of us expected. Dan, on the other hand, walked up to the line, stepped over it, tried to step back behind it before deciding to light the whole bloody thing on fire.

So, if you’re a fan who’s pissed at Dan, you’re far from alone. The fact of the matter is that Dan Espinoza is the most unlikeable principal character on the show and the hardest to sympathize with. He serves as a foil for Chloe and as a mirror for Lucifer. It’s not an accident that Dan is at his most sympathetic in Season 3, when Lucifer is re-integrating the angelic facets of his identity and is his absolute worst self in Season 4, as Lucifer is coming to terms with his own self-hatred.

As much as we may hate to give Marcus Pierce credit for anything, the man was an astute judge of character. He had Dan pegged from the moment he met him and it’s an identity Dan alternately embraces and rejects. He is a corrupt cop.

The show’s take on corruption within the LAPD is a subject worthy of it’s own essay, so for now I’m going to focus on Dan and Lucifer’s mirrored stories within 4x07′s “Devil Is As Devil Does”.

In Season 4, both Lucifer and Dan are drowning in the same two emotions - grief and self-hatred. How that manifests, however, is very different. Lucifer turns his emotions on himself. Dan turns them outward, looking for a target and Lucifer makes a very easy and convenient target to punish for Charlotte’s death.

In a different essay, I pointed out that at no point is Lucifer interested in punishing Chloe for her betrayal - what he wants is her acceptance. The same thing is happening with Dan. Lucifer doesn’t default to calling him “Detective Douche” as his go-to nickname. In the majority of scenes, Lucifer refers to him as “Daniel,” even as he outwardly pushes back against Dan’s blame. And, as we will realize at the end of 4x09, Lucifer actually agrees with Dan. Allowing Dan to punish him, within certain boundaries, is the only form of care that his friend will accept from Lucifer.

Lucifer also understands instinctively what Dan is doing. He’s punishing himself. Even in 4x07, as Dan and Lucifer are both hitting rock bottom, when Eve suggests that they punish him Lucifer responds, “His existence is punishment enough.” It’s a cold, cutting statement, befitting how Dan treated him in the wake of Officer Joan’s death, but even Lucifer at his worst puts Dan off-limits.

Dan, unfortunately, does not return the favor.

Both Dan and Lucifer are struggling with the same issue - an innocent officer is dead because they trusted mortal law. Lucifer, however, is in a greater position of power than Dan; he is the Devil. He has the power to punish Julian and driven by grief and rage and pain, with Eve whispering encouragement in his ear, he does just that.

Dan is also in a position of power, but it’s a position of human power and it’s a position he know how to use - and how to abuse. The entirety of Dan’s arc in Season 1 is watching his corrupt choices spiral out of control until multiple people are dead. Season 2, he has a man killed when the justice system sets a guilty man free. Season 3, he’s trying to do better, but once Charlotte is killed he actively embraces the identity of the corrupt cop when facing Pierce’s henchman.

4x07, we see Dan return to an old trick - use someone else to do the dirty work while attempting to keep his hands clean. It’s important to note that Dan doesn’t actually have a problem with Julian’s fate. In fact, he’s gleeful when he leans into his face and taunts him with “cop killer” and how he’s going to suffer in jail. It isn’t until he puts the pieces together and realizes that Lucifer has done this that he’s able to justify putting a target on Lucifer’s back. Worse, Lucifer has succeeded in delivering Julian to the police to be tried and jailed.

So, Dan pulls out his detective skills - and it’s a good reminder that Dan, for all his flaws, is a formidable detective when motivated. He manages to find Lucifer’s cigarette in the trash, which is circumstantial, but enough justification for his desire. He wants Lucifer punished, to feel every bit of pain that Dan is currently feeling. So he whispers Lucifer’s name in Jacob Tiernan’s ear and waits to see the chaos unfold.

Dan’s hubris is that he has completely underestimated what kind of man Jacob Tiernan is and even before they realize that Trixie is in danger you can see Dan begin to panic. For all that he wants Lucifer punished, he doesn’t want Lucifer dead. It’s a bit of a truism that the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference. Dan is angry at Lucifer because he cares and because he views Lucifer as a safe target to vent his anger at because of their past friendship. This moment is when his self-protective bubble of anger pops. Dan has put Lucifer in mortal danger and even though Dan knows full well that Lucifer can take care of himself (and has seen evidence of it), Lucifer isn’t bulletproof as far as he knows.

And then Chloe realizes that Trixie has snuck out of the house to see Lucifer and Dan’s entire world threatens to shatter. In one fell swoop not only is his daughter’s life in danger, along with Lucifer’s, but Chloe’s respect for him is on the line as well if she finds out. Then there’s the cherry on top, his career. The monster hiding in Dan’s psyche is the corrupt cop and it’s a monster he doesn’t want to be.

Dan’s hits rock bottom the moment he bursts out of that elevator to find Lucifer having subdued Tiernan’s henchmen and Trixie safe on the balcony. Dan is shamed - not only did he put his daughter’s life in jeopardy but the very man he wanted to punish is the one who was ultimately able to protect her.

Lucifer hasn’t quite hit his yet (that’ll come when he sees his wings) but he’s been knocked away from the same edge that Dan’s been on the entire season, and twice - first when Chloe confronts him with what he already knows - what he did was wrong and he knows it, even if he’s not willing to admit it. The image of Chloe disappointed in him with tears streaming down her face, is enough to have Lucifer stalling and it’s something that Eve points out.

The second time is when Trixie - one of the few truly innocent characters on the show - bounces into his penthouse and demonstrates her complete faith in Lucifer in a season when even Chloe is struggling with reconciling the good man she knows and the Devil who is capable of dealing out punishment with cruel sense of irony.

Dan putting Trixie’s life in danger gives Lucifer a second chance. He failed to protect Officer Joan. But when it truly matters, when Trixie’s life is on the line, Lucifer does not fail. Dan bursts in to Lucifer’s triumph in the face of his own failure. Only now he doesn’t have the shield of his anger to hide behind anymore. He’s lost, confused and in pain. He’s waiting to be punished. The moment when Tiernan’s thug tells Chloe that Tiernan found out that Lucifer broke Julian’s back is drawn out, letting the audience feel Dan’s agony, caught between terror and relief at being found out.

And then he gets away with it. Scot-free, as far as Dan knows. (For now. God bless Ella Lopez). All’s well that ends well, right? After all, Trixie is fine, Lucifer is fine.

Not quite. Dan now has to figure out how he’s going to reconcile the man and the monster. He may not have a pair of devil wings to show him how far he’s fallen, but he doesn’t need them. All he has to do is look at his daughter’s face and know that she’s still breathing because the man he was angry enough to punish was the one to protect her, not him. Neither the corrupt cop nor the Devil is an instrument of justice, a realization that both Dan and Lucifer have come to by the end of the episode.

It’s easy to be flip and simply say that Lucifer engenders more sympathy than Dan because Lucifer hasn’t spent the entirety of Season 4 up to this point being a jerk, but that isn’t entirely true. Lucifer’s pain is very much a consequence of his own choices. He rebelled against his father. He spent millennia “sowing destruction and chaos for his own amusement” (thank you Amenadiel). Those seeds grew into the stories that shook Chloe’s faith in him. It doesn’t excuse her choices, but it puts them into a context that is perfectly understandable. Lucifer is the Devil.

The Devil is so much more powerful a character than Dan Espinoza, corrupt cop. As out of line as Lucifer is in this episode, he does not abuse his power to the extent that Dan does. He could have killed Julian, completely circumventing human law and sending Julian straight into Lucifer’s territory, to do with as he pleases. What Lucifer does to Julian is horrific enough, but he’s still delivered to the police, able to be tried for both human trafficking and Officer Joan’s murder. And, when confronted with the consequences of that choice, Lucifer makes a different choice with Jacob Tiernan. He recognizes that the punishment Tiernan deserves is within the realm of human law, not celestial justice. And he acknowledges that he was wrong directly to Chloe.

Dan’s power is much more limited and when he abuses it he does so almost to his fullest extent. It’s not an accident that the next episode deals with police brutality and Dan is faced with having to tell Amenadiel that, despite putting in a complaint, the officers that nearly shot an unarmed black kid won’t face any consequences. Just as Dan isn’t facing any consequences for his own actions. Moreover, Dan isn’t confessing what he did to anyone, even when he has the opportunity to in the very next scene with Ella pulling him aside to tell him that she knows there was a cop involved in the Tiernan case.

Contrast this with Lucifer who within the first twenty minutes of 4x07 tells Chloe the truth - and Chloe’s response illustrates the power difference very starkly. “What am I supposed to do with this?” Lucifer is the Devil. He doesn’t have to follow human law if he doesn’t want to. Chloe literally has no way to hold him to account except to confront him with his own conscience and hope that she gets through to him.

The pettiness of Dan’s actions and the limits of his power are what help throw Dan into a much more unsympathetic light than Lucifer.

It’s easier for us to parse a corrupt cop backsliding than it is to watch the Devil himself do the same. Unlike Lucifer, Dan could be held to account. He’s gotten multiple people killed. He’s put others in danger and it’s a choice that he keeps making over and over again.

In a just world, Dan Espinoza would have been drummed out of the LAPD at the end of Season 1. He ought to be in jail himself and he knows it. We have seen his perspective and we understand and sympathize with each step he took to get here, but all the good intentions in the world do not justify Dan’s actions.

But this isn’t a just world and Dan is protected first by luck and later by Ella, who prioritizes mercy over punishment. Dan’s pain and need for help are more important to her than what almost happened in Lucifer’s penthouse. (Presumably Ella, who joined the LAPD in Season 2 and is also unaware of Dan giving up Warden Perry to the Russian mob, is missing the fact that this is an established pattern of behavior).

Because this is a show about redemption, we feel a certain amount of relief as Dan begins to get the help he needs to move on after Charlotte’s murder. But true redemption doesn’t just require an acknowledgment that your actions were wrong. It also requires restitution. And Dan has not offered that since the ending of Season 1, when he turned himself in to prevent Lucifer from going down for murder. My biggest wish for Dan in Season 5 would be to see him take responsibility for his choices, even when the consequences are dire.

#lucifer meta #lucifer analysis #dan espinoza #trixie espinoza #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #long text post

211 notes · View notes

blackmissfrizzle · 5 years

Text

A Match Made in Hell

Title: A Match Made in Hell

Summary: The reader has been having some anger issues lately and decides to take a trip. Her trip lands her in the bar where Demon Dean is hanging at and trouble ensues.

Pairing: demon!dean x black!reader, Crowley

Word Count: 2113

Warnings: Light smut (18+), Violence, a little racism and body shaming

A/N: I’m so glad to get back to writing a Supernatural fic. I got another one plan and hopefully I can get it out soon.

A/N: This is for all my black girls who love Supernatural but don’t get the chance to see themselves in the show or in the fandom.

Dean and Crowley were taking body shots of whiskey from the blonde bartender when Crowley first noticed you. “Oh, bloody hell! Its time to go, the She-Devil is here,” Crowley complained.

Dean lifted his head from the bartender’s toned stomach to find you. His eyes searched the room until he followed Crowley’s finger and you were finally in his eyesight. This was the first time he saw you since he became a demon. The last time you were together was right after he got the mark and you coincidentally ran into him while checking up on Garth.

He was mesmerized by the way you looked. You walked with a gracefulness that was curated by your privileged upbringing and years of ballet training. Despite the lighting in the bar you were beautiful, although he preferred looking at you in the sun, because he loved how the light shined on your brown skin.

However, there was something different about you tonight. It wasn’t your appearance; it was your demeanor. One of the things Dean loved about you was, regardless of all the bad shit that happened to you, you always remained sweet, open, and kind. So, when Dean saw you looking closed off and highly irritable, he knew something was going on and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

“No, I’m staying. Something’s off with Y/N,” Dean said.

“Are you serious right now, Dean,” Crowley screeched. He pulled Dean to the side trying to convince him to leave, “I don’t know about you, but I am in not in the mood to get murdered by that half-breed.”

Dean snarled at Crowley and backed him into a corner, “Call her half-breed again and you won’t like what happens next.”

Crowley raised his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay. No calling your ex-girlfriend a half-breed. But how do you know she’s not here to help Sam bring you back home?”

“Because, I know how she looks when she’s hurting versus how she looks when she pissed off or worry. Trust me, Sam wouldn’t call her. We made a pact to keep her out of hunting and Sam’s too much of a wuss to bring her back in just for me,” Dean attempted to calm Crowley.

“I still don’t like being near her,” Crowley professed in a bratty manner.

“I don’t care,” Dean bellowed out. “And by the way, don’t bother coming back to the room, me and Y/N will be busy.”

Crowley shuddered in disgust and then teleported out of the bar. Now Dean could focus on you.

You don’t know why you stopped at this dive bar. Something just pulled you towards it. Honestly, you rather be home snuggled up in your boyfriend’s arms, but you couldn’t do that. For the past couple of weeks your powers been out of wonk and you were unable to control them, also you found yourself with a short temper. The last straw was when you were in a meeting with your board members and your brother had to ‘accidently’ spill water on your hands to stop you from throwing a fireball at one of the board members.

Now here you were in some podunk ass town with no clue on what to do and not feeling any better. You felt someone sit in the seat next to you and the lean towards you, putting their hand on your thigh. This had to be the boldest attempt since you got there, and you were tired of this shit.

“No, I don’t want you to buy me a drink and if you don’t remove your hand from my thigh in the next 10 seconds you’re gonna have to learn how to jerk off with your left hand,” you lowly threatened the intruder.

He didn’t remove his hand and laughed instead, “Aren’t I lucky I can do it with both hands?”

You tensed up at that laugh and voice. It belonged to the one person who broke your heart. You swiveled your bar stool to confirm it was Dean Winchester and you were right. His hair was different; it was longer and combed over to the side, but he still looked attractive. There was something off about him, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Dean, what are you doing here?”

He raised his beer, “Day drinking, you?”

“Running away from my problems,” you confessed. You turned your head in search of his brother, “Where’s Sam?”

Dean took another long sip of his beer before he answered, and you were entranced by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed while he drank. He smacked his lips that were glistening from the beer and sighed, “Me and Sam decided to take a little break.”

Automatically you accused Dean, “What did you do?” You knew it was a crap thing to accuse him so rashly, but every time Sam and Dean separate its because Dean was either too pissed at Sam and wants to get away from him or Dean did something to piss Sam off and Sam was the one to leave.

“Why does it have to be my fault,” Dean asked as his voice got higher since he was offended that you judged him so quickly.’’

“Because it always is,” you doubled down.

Dean licked his lips and observed you, “Forget about me and Sam. What are you running from?” You were fiddling with the edge of your jacket, which Dean knew it was your tell of being nervous.

You bit your lip and had an internal debate on whether you wanted to confide in Dean. Since you had no one to talk to you informed Dean of the changes that occurred lately. You let him know about the incident at your board meeting and the time you unjustly snapped at your boyfriend when he asked if you were cooking dinner.

Dean raised his eyebrows at the mention of your boyfriend. “Boyfriend? You have a boyfriend?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. We decided to take a break, because I’ve been so damn moody,” you rambled as you messed with the zipper of your jacket.

“Well, since you’re on a break. How about you and me go to my room and alleviate some of all that pent-up anger you got, sweetheart?” Dean seductively growled in your ear.

For some time, you stared at Dean. This was your chance to finally have sex with Dean Winchester with no strings attached. Even though, the two you dated for almost a year, you never had sex because you were a virgin and you were trying to wait for marriage. You decided not to wait for Dean, but it was too late because he cheated on you with that damn angel, Anna and your relationship was never the same after that.

You kissed Dean on those plump lips of his instead of using your words to tell him yes. He grabbed your hand and slammed down two twenty-dollar bills to take care of both of yours tabs, and was pulling you through the crowded bar.

Almost out the door you felt a tug on your bicep, it was the bartender who let Dean take a body shot off of her. “You sure you can handle that sweetie? We all know its gonna be a pity fuck, because why would he ever want to be with someone as dark and big as you,” she sneered.

Typically, those comments would get her a classy comeback, because your mama raised you better than that, but in the recent weeks it seems you forgotten what she taught you, and you punched the buxom blonde in the face instead, effectively knocking her out.

You should have known better than to do that in this hick town, because now you had rednecks surrounding you and Dean, trying to protect the ‘innocent’ white woman. He smirked at you and the two of you began to fight the crowd. You broke a pool cue in half and fought off some attackers while Dean was punching and flying his victims across the room. At one point in the fight you thought Dean’s eyes turned black like a demon, but you dismissed it as the blur of the fight.

Within ten minutes everyone in the bar was either incapacitated or they ran away. Still feeling the high from the bar brawl, you and Dean were tearing each other’s clothes off once you got to his motel room. When you were naked, Dean had done this inexplicable thing with his tongue while he was eating you out that it caused you to levitate both of you off the bed when you reached your orgasm.

Dean was pounding into you, balls slapping against you when your demon eyes came to the forefront. You instantly covered your face and murmured an apology to Dean. He pulled your hands from your face and tried to assure you, “Its alright, I got a pair of my own,” Dean’s normally green eyes transformed into demon eyes.

You weren’t tripping earlier; you did see Dean’s eyes turn black during the brawl. Surprised at this revelation you twisted your body so that you were on top and grabbed your knife and put it to Dean’s neck. Just as quickly you pulled your knife to his neck, Dean put a strange blade seemingly made of teeth and bone to your neck.

“Uh uh, sweetheart. You don’t wanna do that,” the demon cautioned you.

“How the hell you get into Dean,” you asked as you pressed the knife harder into Dean’s neck.

Getting tired of being in a vulnerable position, Dean rolled your bodies so that he was on top now. He had to admit that you were sexy right now. Your hair splayed across his pillows, breasts uncovered wit puckered nipples, and the anger that caused your eyes to heat up with more passion.

He leaned down and licked the shell of your ear and whispered into it, “Oh honey. This is all Dean, there’s no demon riding me. Remember the Mark of Cain. Well, it turned me into a demon when I died.”

You thrashed under him and screamed “Impossible! You’re a lying piece of shit!”

“Lying, nope. Piece of shit, yes.” A new voice entered your conversation. It belongs to your father. You peered over Dean’s shoulder to see Crowley and your dad standing behind you.

Dean got off of you and threw his shirt at you, indicating that you get dress. At least he was still thoughtful. “Crowley, I thought I told you not to come back here!” Dean bellowed at his new best friend.

Strictly looking Dean in the eyes until he put on some pants, Crowley answered, “I wasn’t. I went back to the bar for another round when I saw the fiasco you and your girlfriend made. So, I went to her dad for help and guess what he told me?”

Both you and Dean grunted at the same time, “What?”

Crowley stared at the two of you before he continued, “That dear old Y/N has been acting more aggressively and unable to control her powers at the same time you died and were reborn as a demon.”

You ran your hands through your hair, “And how does that all connect,” you snapped at the King of Hell.

“You remember when Dean got out of the pit and you started to share his nightmares about his time there,” your dad asked, speaking for the first time since he announced his presence.

Clearly exasperated with this long explanation, you questioned your mother’s killer, “Yeah, but what does that have to do with this?”

“Its similar to this. Its obvious I’m no cupid, but we believe you and Dean are soulmates,” your dad explained.

“Soulmates!?” You and Dean echoed. It was so absurd that you two doubled over in laughter.

Crowley waited until you two were done laughing before he began his line of questioning. “Did you two feel a peacefulness overcome you once you got near each other?” Uncomfortable silence. “When you fought together did everything feel just right, as the universe was steady?” Uncomfortable silence. “When you got to this room was the sexual attraction through the roof?” Uncomfortable silence. “Did either one of you had the intention of going through stabbing the other one when you had the knives pressed against the other’s neck?” Again uncomfortable silence.

You stood there and pondered everything Crowley and your father just said. You came to the conclusion that Dean is your soulmate and right now he was a fucking demon and your demon half was dangerously attracted him. Great, you two were the perfect match made in hell.

TAGLIST: @meishaabae @dannixchristian @cosmicmelaninflower @mml232 @1000roughdrafts @httpchxcxlateapple @eidetic-spencerreid @blacknthemix @stu-recs @forgetthisbull @blackdepressoexpresso @titty-teetee

188 notes · View notes

thefiresensei · 5 years

Text

So I have a confession to make...

I originally asked the lovely @speedythecat if I could use her OC Rain Valentine for the Ninjago Valentine's Week Challenge way back at the start of February... and I've only just managed to get round to writing it! I'm really sorry Speedy, and I hope I've done your amazing OC justice and have kept to her character (if you haven't seen Rain you just must look her up, she's a stunning OC).

**Rain Valentine belongs to Speedythecat (in case you hadn't realised...)**

One Red Hot Mess

"You are so gonna lose this one, Walker." Kai slammed his fist down, rolling back his sleeve fiercely and bracing himself, holding onto the edge of the heavy stone workbench top with his free hand.

Jay chortled, eyebrows pinched together as he mirrored Kai, rolling up his own blue sleeve and grabbing a hold of the opposite side of the worktop.

"Oh, you think so, do you? Fire isn't the only thing that gets hot around here, you know?"

"Uh guys, I dunno if this is such a good idea…" Cole immediately quietened as the two elemental masters turned and frowned, shushing the earth elemental down.

"Okay. Well, don't say I didn't tell you so when you both manage to burn the monastery down. Again." Cole looked pointedly at the fire elemental, who rolled his eyes in response before turning his attention back to Jay, muttering under his breath one time, and they won't let me forget it…

"Not going to happen, Cole. We're miles beneath the actual building in here anyhow." Jay gestured around the old dragon stables cut into the stone of the mountainside, now converted into the ninjas' equivalent of a garage, complete with pieces of machinery scattered amongst various vehicles. "And trust me, I'm going to whoop Kai's butt before he can manage to create any havoc."

"Yeah, yeah. Quit stalling, blabbermouth, and show me whatcha got." Kai leaned in, his eyes narrowing but the flicker of amber plain to see within the dark irises. Jay grinned, matching Kai, his own blue eyes sparkling.

"Let's do this."

"Okay, well here goes nothing." Cole placed the two plugs of iron down in front of the pair, eyes appraising both. "So the winner is the one who manages to melt their own piece of iron first. No cheating, no touching the metal beyond what was agreed. You both ready?"

Kai gave a quick nod whilst Jay sniggered.

"Okay then, on the count of three. Three, two, one…go!"

The dimly lit cavern sparked into light as the two powers ignited, Kai's flames soon flickering and burning brightly as Jay quickly coiled wire around his iron rod then began striking it with his own lightning. Kai's eyes widened as Jay's rod within the makeshift coils gradually began to glow, the fire ninja blinking hard then refocusing his efforts on his own rod, the fire tendrils glowing white as they flickered and licked around the iron.

"What in this realm are you two doing?!" Rain's soft, puzzled voice made all three accomplices jump, causing Jay to shoot a sudden, stronger bolt of electricity through into his magnetised coil, sending it flying across the benchtop into Kai's now glowing one. The equally shocked fire elemental yelped and sent the two rods cascading into the back wall with a ball of white hot fire, the shelf it had barrelled into collapsing with an ear splitting, flaming cascade.

"Kai, you idiot!"

"What? That wasn't just me, Jay."

The two bundled over to the wall, Cole shaking his head as the two rallied over to the smoking mess.

"Well would you look at that." Jay snickered, pointing at the molten pile seeping around the makeshift coils he had created. "Looks like mine had melted… first!"

"Yeah, intertwined with mine, Blueboy. It probably hit mine which melted it in the first place. This proves nothing"

Cole gingerly prodded at the heap of metal and broken shelving on the floor with a hastily grabbed stick, hissing under his breath and jumping back as fresh smoke rose up, curling around them as a molten mass ran down the heap onto the stone floor. "Guys, what is that?"

"It'll just be the iron, Cole."

"Nope. That aint molten iron, it looks a bit like-"

"No!" All three scattered as Rain pushed the brothers out of the way, silver hair billowing behind her as she threw herself down on her knees, a hand shakily hovering over the molten mass.

"Umm, Rain?"

Rain ignored Jay, her head shaking in disbelief as she stared at the mess.

"My glass. My glass sculptures." Her voice was low, shaky as she blinked heavily, eyes not leaving the now cooling mess before them. The three looked to each other, eyes wide as they comprehended what had happened, Cole's mouth forming a silent "oh". Jay elbowed the red ninja, not taking his eyes from the crime scene.

"You are so for it, Kai." Kai stepped back indignantly, glaring at the blue ninja.

"Me? Why me? If I recall you were also-"

"What have you done?" Rain suddenly stood, fists curled as she straightened herself up. Cole marvelled as he noted her freckles appearing to stop still, freezing to attention.

"We're sorry Rain," Kai nudged Jay, who nodded quickly in agreement. "But I'm sure you can make some more-"

"They took me months! And the one I had been making for Lloyd!" She stopped, eyes blazing as she surveyed the molten mess before flicking back up and locking onto Kai's. "Why do you always have to be so, so…reckless!?"

As she screamed the last word the bare glass bulbs illuminating the dark corners of the cavern shattered, Cole and Jay ducking and lifting their arms against the flying, glinting shards.

Kai tilted his chin up, amber within his eyes flaring as he stared the Master of Glass down, folding his arms. "Now hold on. It was an accident, and not just my-"

"What in the name of my grandfather is going on in here? Rain?" Lloyd's entrance immediately defused the situation, Kai's shoulders heaving as he took a breath and stepped back, looking away. The green ninja tilted his head, perplexed. "Guys?"

Jay grabbed hold of Kai's arm, nudging the grumbling red ninja towards the nearest exit, Cole quickly side stepping alongside him. "It was an accident, Lloyd. Rain's sculptures got, err, melted. And we're, um, sorry." Jay shot Lloyd with an apologetic smile before ducking out of the exit, bundling Kai out with Cole's assistance, sending a last wary look to Rain. His expression melted as he saw the grief in her haunted eyes. "We really are sorry." And with a last shove and push the three exited, Cole's brash I told you so echoing through the silent garage.

Lloyd quickly stepped over to his girlfriend, wrapping her in his arms and running a gloved hand slowly through her silky hair. After a few moments he leaned back, cupping her cheek gently.

"This isn't the first time your sculptures have been broken by accident, but you seem really, really upset about it this time."

Rain bit her lip, looking down.

"You also kinda looked like you were going to give Kai a pasting there…"

She smiled lightly, slowly raising her eyes to Lloyds.

"He would have deserved it."

"Huh, no doubt." Lloyd gently pulled her chin up to him, planting a tender kiss against her lips. Rain smiled lightly, exhaling softly, not resisting as Lloyd pulled her over to the seats at the workbench in the centre of the room.

"So why so upset?"

Rain took a breath, shaking her head and averting her eyes, mumbling softly. "One of the sculptures… was a Valentines gift for you."

"Oh!" Lloyd's eyebrows rose, his eyes lighting up. "That, that was really sweet."

"Yeah and now you won't get to see it. Ever." Rain's voice was soft, no longer laced with anger but tinged with sadness.

"What was it?" Lloyd looked over at the shimmering mess in the corner, smoke tendrils now dying out amongst the molten iron and glass peppered with shards of wood.

"Your dragon."

"Sweet!"

Rain looked up shyly, her eyes seeking his. "You would have liked it?"

The green ninja practically bounced in his seat, red eyes glowing. "Are you kidding me? I would have loved it!" He paused, eyes looking inward and brows furrowing. Rain giggled, jabbing him in the ribs.

"Your thinking face does not suit you! What are you plotting?"

"Oh well thank you very much!" Lloyd leaned forward, taking her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over her soft skin.

"We should make it again."

Rain looked up, confused. "We?"

"Yeah. Both of us. You could show me how, we could work on it together." Rain held his gaze, taking in the bright red orbs, the cute little fangs protruding slightly as he grinned. "It will be awesome."

"But you can't work glass."

Lloyd shook his head, his smile wide and infectious. "But I'm the destined green ninja, I'm sure you can make use of some of my powers. Or at the very least I can get you drinks, and maybe a piece of candy or two whilst you work on it."

Rain smiled, taking his face in her hands and planting a firm kiss on his mouth. "You sure? I mean, it can't really be your Valentine's gift now, now that you know about it."

"Are you for real? It'll be an even better gift!"

Rain tilted her head, eyes questioning. Lloyd shook his head again, blond hair flopping across his forehead as he grasped her waist and pulled her towards him, hugging her tightly before tucking stray silver hair behind her ear and whispering into it softly.

"Because we'll have made it together. So it'll be perfect."

#ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago oc #ninjago rain #rain valentine #not my oc #ninjago lloyd #so hope you like this Speedy

85 notes · View notes

notsissannis · 6 years

Text

—Kissing Stranger

Sirius Black x Hermione Granger

One-shot: Complete

Rated: fluffy fluff

World: Muggle AU