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lanabitch2 · 3 days

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Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss scenarios:How you guys met

Charlie:(Time Line: Pilot

So you were good friends with Alastor or he owned your soul so he just spawned you to help out with the hotel and Charlie was nothing but sweet to you which was why you guys became close friends

Vaggie:(After Charlie found her)

So you are Charlie's sibling and Charlie wanted your help to get Vaggie better to which you did help ,and you and Vaggie bonded during that time which lead to her being a protective friend

Alastor:(During the show,before the Pilot)

So before the pilot he knew because once he became a overlord and came to the overlord meetings he met you another overlord and he didn't talk to you at first so you talked to him first which you and him become with besties especially with Rosie!(wait I should make a group of Alastor, Rosie,and Overlord!Reader!)And now to the show so during the overlord meetings you see him after 7 years while you and Rosie were chatting and she basically pushed you to talk to him again to which you do and you guys became close friends again!

Angel Dust:(Pilot)

You were a sinner who wanted to be redeemed so you helped Charlie with her hotel and in scene where they were in the car,Angel Dust was flirting with you the whole time even if Vaggie was screaming(?) At him,he didn't care

Husk:(Before He lost his soul to Alastor,and the pilot)

You knew him once again because of overlord meetings!You are a overlord again,You and him became friends fast and you would sometimes go to his casino and play cards with just for fun and then Alastor showed up and then Husk lost his soul. During the pilot Alastor has you help to which you do and while at the bar you meet Husk again, his is grumpy towards you but he secretly is glad that he can see you again!

Nifty(THIS IS PLATONIC!):(Pilot)

It was when Alastor just got her out of the fireplace or oven(I've heard both)and she started cleaning the place and at one point she just looked at you and then giggled and then started cleaning again, You knew she was something different

Sir Pentious:(Show)

It was after"It starts with sorry" you 2 didn't really pay attention to each other at first but he then started to try and talk to you which he was super nervous and would say the wrong thing but you were nice to him(cause duh he is sir pentious)and became his friend

Cherri bomb:(Show)

When she just blew up the wall in the hotel and Charlie gave her money to the bar(?),so when you guys were there you started talking to her and she was kinda rude bur in teasing way and after a while she was acting like your best friend

Valentino:(anytime)

So you needed a job so you went to his studio and you didn't even half to say"Can I have a job here." He just goes"Do YoU nEeD a JoB?"*And you just nod so you gave your soul go him and stuff <3

Vox:Anytime

You are just a powerful overlord who works with the Vees and Vox grew a liking to you and was kinda weird but you didn't really care about it and deal with it but you guys are friends(you replaced Alastor?)

Velvette(MA QUEEN!):Anytime

So you were one of her models and she didn't really care for you at first until she saw how much talent you had and she was awestruck so she then started showing favoritism towards you

Adam:(Earth garden of eden)

So after he lost both of his wives to Lucifer,God made him a new wife(or husband but it might start just becoming a female if so then sorry!),you were loyal to him and loved him no matter what(MY HEART OF STONNNNNNNE!)

Lute:(Anytime,and so this reader is female it just makes since of what I'm about to for the reader)

So your are a exterminator and she used not care for you until Adam started talking about you to her and she then started to pay close attention to you,which you noticed after a while and asked her"What?"and she was pissed until she chilled out started talking to you and you guys were chill

Emily(My bestie loves her):Anytime

You were a Seraphim to(I REALLY HOPE THAT NOT ALL SERAPHIMS ARE REALATED!)And she always talked to you when she just wanted to but you guys never really were friends she talked to you when she didn't think Sera would understand so at one point you were like"Wanna be friends?"and she would squeal and be like"YES!YES!"

Saint Peter(I love him and "OH!~"):Anytime

You were a Seraphim and he would sometimes see you when he would see Sera and Emily but you guys never really talked so at one point when you were just alone,he started talking to you which made you guys close

(End of hazbin hotel but if you want me to add more people than you say who)

Helluva boss

Blitzø(Mwah):(Before the whole Blitz and stolas fucking thing for the book)

So you needed a job so you saw IMP and thought *Murder >:)* so you when to work there and he had you meet him in his office and he was like "who do you want dead?"until you telled him you wanted a job and hired

Millie(THICK-um sorry and her and Moxxie are not married atleast not in these preferences but you can request them together!):season 1 episode 5 Harvest Moon Festival

So she knew you from her childhood back in the warth ring and once she saw you again at The Harvest Moon Festival she was overjoyed and so were you and you guys started catching up you ended up just going back with her and started working at IMP

Moxxie(Possum!):Harvest Moon Festival

So you also knew Millie and she introduced you two to each other and he was kinda nervous but you were kind for him to trust you and like the last preference you went to IMP to work there

Lonna(Goth queen):Anytime when she was with Blitz

So you got a a job at IMP and you tried to talk to her but Moxxie is telling you to not so you didn't for a while until you just did and she at first wasn't listening to you until she found out you like some of the same stuff as her and she kinda became your friend

Stolas(Birdy :<):Loo Loo land

So you worked for IMP and Blitzo had you and M&M to come along to protect Stolas and Octavia at Loo Loo Land,After a while Stolas started taking a liking towards you and was like "Blitzy give that one and you still have the book"

Stella(Sorry):Idk

You were a servant/maid for the Goitia family and she was kinda nice to you but was still a bitch

Stirker(I mean!~):Teen times

You were Millies sibling and knew him some what around the ranch and his father so at one point when you were trying to get on a big ass horse and kept falling,he walked over and was kind(I think he was a weet heart in his childhood and teens but his dad messed it all up)and he said"Do ya need help?" He smiled and helped you up and you guys started talking after becoming friends

Asmdeuos&Fizzarolli(IM SORRY I PUT THEM TOGETHER I JUST-UGH!I LOVE THEM BOTH SO SO MUCH SO I WILL GLADLY DATE BOTH!):Anytime

So you were a stripper for them and they never really noticed you until you pulled a amazing stunt(?) So after they had a talk with you and started saying how good you are and that you are probably the best stripper which you became close to them

Verosika(Mommy):Anytime

You one of her BIGGEST fans in hell and on time at her concert when you were shouting "I love you!" She winked at you and after the concert she had you come back stage and she had you join her little group

Vortex(....Well!~):Anytime

So you were part of Verosika's little group,he never really payed attention to you but at one point you started flirting with him and he was pretty chill about it and was screaming on the inside and after that you guys became close

Mammon(Fat Christmas tree that I love!):Anytime

So you performed for him at one point which he really liked you and your style so he had you like work with him and now you are the SIN OF GREEDS pet.Maybe?

Beeulzubub(slay queen bee!):anytime

You were at one of her party's and she started talking to you and was like acting like your best friend and after she like gave you her number,you guys started hanging out

So I forgot Lucifer so!

Lucifer(eat me out please):when he visits the hotel

So when he visits he noticed you were like a parent to Charlie and he wasn't mad about it because she needed a parent figure(Alastor:I'm a roach-wait no nifty!)*and he stared talking to and was like "new Lilith?" In his head

My oc's

Helen:Anytime

So you came to her bar and she caught interest in you and would start talking to you and be kind flirty while also being a sweetheart and then you guys meet again at the hotel

Dawn:anytime

You were also a model for Velvette like her and she noticed how good you are and wanted you to teach her and so you did and then you guys met again in the hotel

THANK YOU TO THOSE WHO HAVE READ THIS!<3

THANK YOU FOR 57 LIKES( Is that what their called?)

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archiven-ternity · 2 days

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Here you are going to find all my stories! Although I love to write, don’t forget that it is all done as a hobby, so please do not have many expectations and/or harsh criticism.

REBLOGS, LIKES, COMMENTS, or any type of interaction are more than welcome! ♡ I just kindly ask you to NOT SPAM LIKE. If you do, tumblr may think my account is a bot and I will be shadowbanned and removed from the tags :(

Also! There are both SFW and NSFW stories here. It’s correctly labeled, therefore I am not responsible for your media consumption.

╰ my favorites ☆｜reader’s favorites ★

FLATLINE ⎯ TRACK 01 OF TAKE MY HAND ★☆

Heeseung had never believed in love, at least not the real thing, not the capable of awakening his soul and bringing peace to his mind type of love. Yet, in the summer of his twenty-four years, you came into his life, and from the moment he saw you, he knew he was gone — heart on the flatline.

╰ strangers to lovers, street racing & summer romance｜26.8K

THIS IS HOW YOU FIND FOREVER

Heeseung wasn’t the type of boyfriend to buy you expensive bouquets or take you to fancy restaurants. No. He was the type of boyfriend to pick flowers on the sidewalk for you and order food past midnight. He laid blankets on the hardwood floor of your living room and made picnics on it. And then, when the bowls were empty and the wine sank in, he was the type of boyfriend to ask you to dance with him. Barefoot and clumsy, Heeseung loved to dance with you.

╰ established relationship｜1K

WRITTEN IN THE STARS ☆

During the course of your relationship with Heeseung, you had found a dozen ways to wake him up. Sometimes it was sweet, sometimes it was a little dirtier. Yet, your favorite one was this — the tip of your finger wandering through his moles, tracing the cluster of stars that belonged solely to him.

╰ established relationship｜0.7K

HEAVEN KNOWS

Aside from Jongseong’s whispered jokes of desiring to eat you alive, your boyfriend never had been anything but gentle with you in bed. Kind hands and soft touches, always patient, and always putting you first. Not that it was bad — no, he was the best you ever had. But it had been inevitable for you to not grow curious about what he meant by his eccentric statement. So you asked.

╰ established relationship｜2.7K

COMING SOON!

YOU DON’T GO TO PARTIES ⎯ TRACK 02 OF TAKE MY HAND

There had been a time when Sunghoon thought that you and he were meant to be forever. For years, you had been best friends, halves of a whole, and the downfall of your friendship certainly was something no one could have predicted. But life changes, and now he is clinging to his couch, wondering who he is looking for because you don’t go to parties anymore.

╰ best friends to lovers & neighbors｜27.4K

THANK YOU FOR PASSING BY! ♡

Feel free to check my works in progress and join their taglists

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periluvr · 2 days

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i love you - billie eilish

part2 of ‘think of me once in a while, take care’ !!!

gojo x female reader, mention of death, mention of decapitation, mention of gun

It was now 11pm, the time of the meeting. You were tied up somewhere in Shibuya's big shopping mall, gun to your head the whole time. You heard someone talking, or rather shouting, and recognized the voice of your "boyfriend": Gojo Satoru. You hadn't known Satoru for very long, and he wasn't necessarily someone who got angry very quickly, he never even got angry, but today was the first time you'd seen him in this state of rage. You hoped that Satoru would be able to save you.

"Where is she?" said Gojo — "where is my girl?!"

Gojo was beside himself with rage, blaming himself for everything, knowing full well that to have a girlfriend while being the strongest was to go straight to hell. He couldn't afford to lose everything now, not like this.

In a few minutes, Gojo wiped out all the plagues that stood in his way, he had to find you, and as quickly as possible, it was eating him up inside not knowing where you were, it was making him sick.

While waiting for him, you were still tied up, your hands and feet bound, a gun to your head or a knife to your throat, depending on who was watching you. Blood trickled down your wrists and feet as you struggled, burning yourself little by little. The tip of the knife slowly sank into the thin skin of your neck, creating a slight cut. Just swallowing began to hurt more and more. You were suffocating, sweating, you couldn't take it anymore, but you were trying to hold on until Gojo arrived.

A few minutes later, you finally saw Gojo in front of you, tears streaming down your cheeks, at last he was here. The person you'd loved most recently was here to save you. You couldn't speak because of the scotch tape over your mouth. Gojo's eyes, usually bright blue, were now only black, black with anger. Seeing you like that drove him mad. His fists had turned white from clenching them so hard, the blood couldn't even get through. He was out of breath, he couldn't take it anymore, all he wanted to do was collapse in your arms and promise you it wouldn't happen again. Unfortunately, he had to keep a straight face in front of you and everyone else here.

"I'm asking you to fight to the death, Gojo Satoru. It's obvious that if you don't accept it, she dies," said the bounty hunter.

"And it's obvious that I'm going to accept it, since I'm going to win," says Gojo confidently, after all, who had he ever lost to before?

"You've got five minutes to shoot me, if the fight goes on in five minutes, she's dead."

"Five minutes is too much, believe me," replied Gojo.

The fight began, and Gojo was alone against three bounty hunters and exorcists. Despite the smug look he was giving himself, you knew that he couldn't take it anymore, and you could see it in his eyes.

The fight continued, the blows becoming more and more violent and the after-effects as well, you taking a few blows along the way given the power of some of them. You were screaming, begging Satoru to stop, even if it meant letting you die, you couldn't stand seeing him give himself body and soul to you, just to save you, it wasn't fair, he didn't deserve that. The tape around your mouth finally came off from all the drool you'd accumulated while screaming.

tic-tac

With just two minutes to go, only one of them remained, the toughest. Gojo was physically and mentally at the end of his rope, and it was torture to watch. The knots in your ankles and wrists began to unravel with all your agitation. Gradually, you regained movement. Satoru switched between his red sort, then the blue one, and in between, he used the reverse cursed technique, all at immeasurable speed. He was impressive, you'd never seen him from that angle, but despite everything, you prayed it would be the last time.

tic-tac

One minute, one minute to die, that's the outcome of the fight? it's impossible. Your heart began to beat faster and harder, the drops of sweat bigger and bigger. You felt as if at any moment you might faint. Gojo was at the end of his rope, and so was the bounty hunter in front of him; Gojo had underestimated him. It was all over.

tic-tac

Thirty seconds, you saw the countdown beside you, your eyes switching between fight, countdown, fight, countdown. Time passed so quickly but so slowly at the same time. The ropes came undone more and more. You were going to die, that was obvious, and you hadn't even told Satoru yet that you'd fallen in love with him.

tic-tac

You were doomed either way, and it wasn't anyone's fault, least of all Gojo.

tic-

The last second, you couldn't let yourself die, Gojo was killing himself in front of your eyes, for you. You saw the gun go to your temple, you saw Gojo in the outer corner of your eyes make a move to try to protect you, the bounty hunter managed to stop him.

"YN!" he shouted at the top of his voice. Time passed in slow motion. Gojo was thrown to the ground by the bounty hunter, it was the end. You tried one last time to move, but despite the pain and burns caused by the ropes, you managed to move completely, and the ropes fell away. You stood up and started running towards Gojo, your feet slipping on the ropes.

A first shot, missed. You had just escaped death for the first time.

"Satoru!" you screamed. Satoru realized that you hadn't died from the first shot, but he knew the next one was coming soon.

With the second shot, Satoru had just enough time to take you in his arms and press you against the ground to protect you. You saw Satoru's face contort in pain, and he groaned.

"Satoru, don't tell me you've been shot!" you asked, afraid of what might happen next.

"It's nothing, I've been through worse," he said, laughing lightly as he held the gaping wound that had just been made between his right ribs.

You took Gojo's face in both hands. You looked him straight in the eye, his gaze softening.

"What's the matter, are you hurt?" he asked, completely worried.

"I love you, I'm in love with you Satoru".

Time stopped for a moment, you were locked in his gaze and he in yours. He continued to look at you as if you were all he had left, as if he could burn the world for you. With his right hand, he hugged you tightly, while the other still held his wound.

"I know that - he whispered in your ear - but don't talk as if one of us will die, it won't happen » — He stood up before resuming the fight. All that remained was for you to avoid the shots, but now that you were away from the combat zone, Gojo could afford to go in much harder, and so he did. He used his purple hollow first against the bounty hunter, then a second time against the one who was trying to shoot you. He could barely stand, but it was all over.

He looked at the last two enemies on the ground one last time, "It was fun fighting you guys, but if you don't mind, I've got to get home to my girl now," he said, before ripping the men's heads off and throwing them to the ground.

You looked at Satoru, completely horrified by what had just happened, and ran to him, jumping into his arms. Gojo returned the hug immediately, his right hand stroking your hair and his left holding you by the waist. His head in the hollow of your neck. You cried your eyes out. You never wanted to let go, ever.

"I love you so much, I love you so hard yn it’s making me sick," Satoru said into the hollow of your neck. He'd just completely let his guard down in front of you. "I'm exhausted, I want us to go home." he continued, not wanting to let go of you.

"Let's go home then" you replied as you kissed him, your right hand caressing his cheek.

"I'll probably drop in on Shoko first if you don't mind" he said, laughing softly.

"That was the plan!" you teased back.

In spite of his great size, you helped him walk with his arm over your shoulders. He looked at you, smiled stupidly and laughed. "hey, what's so funny?" you asked — "do you really think you're helping me walk?" — "I'm doing what I can!" — "I know, thank you for that" he replied with a smile on his lips, a tender smile like you'd never seen before. He kissed your forehead and you left the mall once and for all.

happy with the way it turned out :) maybe i’ll do a angst end because this is what i wanted to do in the beginning! tell me if you think it’s a good idea

english isn’t my first language and i use deepl sometimes, tell me if there is anything wrong!

@megumisthirdog, @emilyywhyy hehe !!!

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bunny584 · 2 days

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For I Have Sinned ୨୧ Chapter III

“Abstain from sinful desires, which wage war against your soul.” 1 Peter 2:11

Priest Geto has unfaltering faith in his hands. They have traversed deadly straits. Blossomed gardens. Taken and given life.

Can he trust his hands to mold you for another man?

Pairing: Geto x Female reader

Art credit: Grartss on tumblr/insta

A/N: someone needs to peel me away from I wanna Be Yours x Artic Monkeys and the third scene. That song fits TOO perfectly to my ears. I hope this chapter edges you just as much as it did me.

Previous | Next

CHAPTER III: Courtside

Duchess,

Allow me to apologize. It was inappropriate to end our session so abruptly.

You have been on my mind. It will serve your marriage best for you and the Duke Ahriman to pursue individual counseling prior to pre-marital counseling.

I cannot guide you to love one another, your hearts will make that determination. But I can help unravel your layers; to allow for independent growth. Having a strong sense of self, above all, is paramount for successful matrimony.

Think on this proposal. If you both accept, we will proceed.

Warmly,

Suguru Geto

Suguru Geto.

His name tastes just as rich as it reads.

Elegant.

Too ethereal to be bound by ink and manila paper.

A name like that is meant to be said out loud. Shouted from the mountain top. Meant to be worshipped.

Praised.

“Darling? Are you decent?” Ezra calls from the other side of your heavy chamber doors.

You flicker down to your robe. Technically you aren’t. But your continued attempts to avoid your betrothed — conscious or not — remain futile.

Especially, today. Your formal introduction to court. The future Duchess Ahriman. You will be fused to Ezra’s side for hours on end. Grateful to have been bestowed the honor. An honor you will spend your life upholding.

Pro Deo et patria.

For God and Country.

“Yes, I’m decent.” Hoping whatever he needs can be addressed from behind your barrier.

“May I, my love?”

A bitter scoff glides down your throat, but your words seep sweet. “Yes of course!”

Arella, who is diligently arranging your formal attire on the golden rack, fetters over to welcome the Duke.

Instinctively, your hand tightens the silk knot as he steps into view in your mirror. Ezra’s emerald gaze is warmer than the Grecian sun. Excitement buzzing off of his boyish grin and short strides to your vanity.

The Priest’s letter finds its away into your pocket, just as strong hands land on your shoulders.

Ezra didn’t notice. And why would he? The letter isn’t illegal.

“How are you feeling?” Like plush Evergreens withstanding all seasons, Ezra peers into you and roots you in place.

He’s unwavering, your fiancé. He doesn’t yield so easily.

“Are you ready for tonight?”

“Not like I have a choice in the matter.”

Almost instantly you regret the response. The Duke offers you a pained smile and tender kiss on the crown.

A sudden gust of wind brings the bouquet of fresh Dahlias to everyone’s attention. Ezra rubs a soft petal between his fingers.

“These are outstanding, darling. Who brought them to you?”

Before a half truth drips off your tongue, Arella speaks up, taking stride toward where you sit.

“I picked them this morning. From the garden.”

She grazes over your empty, half parted mouth. Planting her own kiss on your warm canvas.

“We should get ready for the ball, yes little Dove?”

Ezra’s good natured laugh overflows. He raises both palms in feigned retreat.

“I suppose that is my queue. I’ll take my leave.” Your handsome fiance keeps his word. Shutting the heavy doors behind him.

“Arella!” Your head whips around to face your beautiful handmaiden.

She is swanlike. Coordinating the intimate pieces of your gown. Not another word on her lips but a whole diary on her face.

“Why did you lie for me?” Your hands steady her busy ones.

Arella’s voice is small enough to fit through the cracks in the walls.

“My allegiance is to you and only you, little Dove.”

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

“Under His Eye, Father.”

“Under His Eye, Rhea.”

“Blessed Be The Fruit, Father.”

Of course. The greeting used when women are trying for child, the handmaiden chose to use with him. Suguru offers a polite, but pointedly distant smile.

Since his arrival to the compound, there hasn’t been a shortage of high court handmaids and the women they tend to ‘greeting’ him in a similar way.

Well within the unspoken rules of engagement, but a message served loud and clear.

“May The Lord Open, Seren.” Suguru returns the pleasantry as scripted.

The pretty maiden smiles like a Cheshire kitten. Taking her position in line behind the clergymen. Suguru keeps his gaze ahead. Remaining neutral in the midst of hushed giggles and whispered praises.

His index finger wires beneath the formal collar. Tonight is the first of a long line of celebrations he will have to stomach.

A commemoration of a new contract between families. A new marriage of countries. A long awaited treaty as precarious as the peak of Mauna Kea.

And as the appointed Chaplain he is tasked with praying over each event. Handing out blessings to the soon-to-be-wed and those that wish them no harm.

He’s already exhausted.

The processional begins and all extraneous chatter settles to the ground. Just in time for you and the Duke to step into view. At the height of the sprawling staircase, there you stand.

Regal.

Breathtaking.

Not a single strand out of place. The rigid corset digs into the small of your waist — accenting the feminine swell of your hips. Sage satin drips off the rolls and hills of your mind-altering lines.

Curve and dip.

Your figure could render the most veteran fishermen seasick.

Then your eyes collide with his and Suguru nearly falls backward. Knocking more air out of his lungs than any sea storm ever has. Ten times more deadly than the waves he rode along Drake’s Passage.

The infamous strait holds legend amongst seamen, old and new. The lethal dance between the South Atlantic, Pacific and Southern oceans gives way to the notorious Ship’s Graveyard.

At 60 degrees south of the Equator, Suguru’s father tweaked his usual saying before he dove off their vessel.

“Below 40, there are no laws. Below 50, there is no God. Don’t go trying to find One, Son.”

Suguru strips his eyes away from you. Currently plunging well below 60 degrees south, he will drown in you if he keeps gawking up like that.

Focus, Suguru.

Lines from tonight’s production begin circulating in the Chaplain’s mind. Every moment rehearsed down to the breath. The night is already stifling. And he still has to look you in the eye and bid you a lifetime of love and prosperity with Ezra Ahriman.

He’ll have to repent for the lie tomorrow.

Patent leather dress shoes echo a path into the ballroom. Suguru and the rest of the priesthood fall behind the last line of noblemen. His stomach suddenly plummets lower than its usual residence.

Public speaking isn’t the issue.

A room full of eyes trained on his every word has never shaken his nerves.

The problem is the air around him suddenly deciding to shed its layers.

Leaving one, thin strip of sustenance left for Suguru to breathe in. While he rehearses the lies he has to spew in front of a congregation.

Half of which is so forbidden. Basking in the thrill of lusting after a “Man of God” bound by law — biblical and not — to remain pure in the face of temptation. It’s thrilling for that half of the congregation.

Then there’s the other half.

Seeing him for the foreigner that he is.

The other. A man with eyes more inclement than the worst of Heaven’s rainfall. Who bares tattoos of a past life. Acting as if that part of himself is so far lost at sea.

That half of the congregation is counting the seconds until Suguru can be properly burned at the stake. Words he reads directly from the Bible sound like lies to their ears.

Which half of the congregation do you reside in?

“Father, I have a hard copy of your speech if you want it.” Noel whispers, just a few paces away from entering the ballroom.

And Suguru is so fond of the boy. The little brother he never got to grow up with.

“I think I have a handle on it, Noel. Thank you.” The Chaplain flashes a brief smile his way before taking in the last gust of oxygen. Praying that it gets him through the dreaded speech.

Violin notes reverberate in sync with Suguru’s footsteps toward the podium. You are somewhere behind him. Probably 20 paces or so. Polite about your wave. Genuine about your smile. Convincing the masses that you are one of them.

The decades your home country spent in war with them mean nothing.

Welcome home, Duchess.

Suguru’s deft fingers wrap around the microphone.

“Welcome in.” He starts. It takes nothing for the room to come to an obedient silence. Listening intently. Taking in every word.

“Please, may the congregation rise? To give and receive blessings this evening.” Suguru prompts the room, a gentle up-flick of his wrist, raising all to their feet.

“I’d happily kneel, Father.” A muffled comment from the pretty handmaiden that made a point to greet him a few moments earlier.

Normally, Suguru wouldn’t entertain it. But something about this being his first formal engagement strips his usual restraint.

“Such a dedicated servant of the Lord, Seren.”The Chaplain glances over to the blushing crowd of women at his right.

Seren’s outburst crumbles to nothing under his pointed gaze. And a collective chuckle fills the room.

That should be enough to stifle any additional outbursts.

Here he goes.

“To the Duke Ahriman, and the Duchess-To-Be.” Suguru tilts his glass of water up at the noble pews — everyone else holding goblets of red wine.

Beauty and grace lock his eyes into place. Coaxing words out of his parched throat. He couldn’t deny you his voice if he wanted to.

“I pray the Lord brings you unwavering love,” A lie whipped sweeter than cream rolls off his tongue. Suguru’s eyes float from you to the Duke. An eager smile on his face.

But, what is the expression you’re currently wearing, Duchess?

Are you desperate to come up for air, too?

“A never ending fountain of peace.” Suguru continues to bless the ‘happy’ couple. With eyes that can see with inhuman clarity below the level of sea that receives penetrance from Helios.

The Midnight Zone may as well be daybreak to the Chaplain. And those same sharp eyes see something other than joy in your face. Something other than peace.

But he continues his script, nonetheless.

“An unconditional well of prosperity.” Suguru shamelessly sips from your tantalizing presence. If someone whispered to him that you two were the last beings on earth right now, he’d believe it without question.

The finishing lines cause physical pain.

“And most importantly, to an Ahriman heir.” Suguru chokes out. “For God and Country.”

The room erupts in near uncontrollable cheer.

“For God and Country!”

“For God and Country.”

You mirror the Preist’s words and he memorizes every twitch in your lips. Every intonation of your voice is burned into the most permanent part of his mind.

Festivities flicker past Suguru’s short term memory. The night is a complete daze. Hundreds of courteous smiles. Dozens of handshakes. A handful of empathic stares and one all-consuming gaze that halts the Father in his tracks.

How are you allowed to exist when lust is apparently a sin?

The answer to that never comes.

Boisterous music. Drunken celebration. Complete disinhibition comes in full force instead.

Suguru wires around the women flinging themselves into his embrace.

No matter the intention, he wants no part of it. In fact, if he could make it home to steal a few hours of uninterrupted sleep he would consider the night a roaring success. There’s no telling how many seconds, minutes, hours have passed since the start of the celebration.

Not until his eyes find you swallowing more than a mouthful of red wine at the edge of your seat. Avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room as if the clouds are your native home.

“Blessed be the fruit, Duchess.” An inebriated noble nearly trips into your arms.

You narrowly miss his impact. The flame in your campfire gaze ascends high enough to singe the crescent moon.

“May the Lord open.” Each one of your words sharper than swords made of dragonstone.

Suguru starts to make his way over to flailing man, to rip him away from you at the very least.

But you are more skilled than he is in still waters. Beneath your fiancés nose and a host of prying eyes you find an exit to slip past.

The Chaplain’s feet move before a knowing smile tugs on his lips.

Suguru knows exactly where to find the woman who doesn’t want to be found.

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Saline seabreeze intertwines with your loose mane. Erupting goosebumps along your exposed décolletage. Expanding the lungs imprisoned by your steel-boned corset.

Breathe.

The moon is curved and high. Super-terrestrial hands knead the low tide crashing along the cliffside.

To what end?

Your mind searches for a finish line to the marathon. Desperately seeking refuge from the journey with no endpoint. Traveling further than Pheidippides, who ran hundreds of miles from the battlefield to the citadel to deliver news of victory.

All before dropping dead.

A chuckle more bitter than the goblet of wine escapes you.

You would travel further just to be home. Even if it meant instant death in return.

“For God and Country.” Sharp words through terse lips. “For God and Country.”

Thick, unforgiving fog fills your brain space. Heels echo through the chapel garden, pebbling the stone path to the rocky edge. Red wine powers your clumsy stumble. Chasing an ever elusive clarity.

The marathon continues.

“What if…what if I don’t serve your God.” You hiss at the stars above.

Resentment more potent on your tongue than the spirits you ingested tonight. Before rules of conduct blare through your drunken haze, rolls of sage satin fill your balmy fists and you take a seat on the ground. Legs dangling over the edge. Enticing the dangers below.

“For God and — what if I think your God is deaf and dumb and…and—“

“And He loves you all the same, Duchess.”

Oh, that voice.

That voice that smells like honey. And tastes like a dream. And sounds like lilac.

No.

Violet.

Like the eyes of its owner.

“Suguru!! I-I mean Father. Shit. I’m sorry.” Bitter resentment is replaced with sour regret.

Did you really need that last serving of truth elixir?

The Chaplain lets out a deep, velvet chuckle. It runs smooth along the curve of your flushed cheeks. He takes a seat on the ledge. A full hand width or two away and yet, his presence kisses you in the way sun rays do, when they tuck in for the night.

“You must think I’m a petulant woman, Father.” Shockingly sober words, thanks to the company beside you.

Another rich, truffle laugh. You cant help but notice his prominent Adams Apple gliding down the muscular column of his throat.

“My name sounds like a ballad when you say it.” Irises softer than an oil painting cement you in place.

“Please use it.”

Because it is, Father.

His name is a ballad. A sonnet. A monologue in its own right.

A love letter.

“And what of my name, Suguru? When will you use it?”

Sobriety flutters away as quickly as it cloaked you in the first place. Cobalt winds lift the hem of your dress. A sheet of goosebumps along your bare thighs now on display.

From the glacial breeze? The damp earth beneath you?

…Or is it the way the Chaplain’s Adam’s Apple and gaze descends?

“When I’ve earned it, Duchess.”

Long, deft fingers reach over to re-drape the satin over your knees. You swallow a gasp before it erupts.

Of course he fixed your dress. It’s where your hem belongs. Especially around a man who has taken a vow of celibacy.

No, no.

Especially as a woman who is engaged. Spoken for. Under the God he serves and the law you abide by.

“I trust you’ll have enough..” Suguru’s lips curl up at a thought reserved for himself only.

And somehow, the perfectly centered dimple on his appled left cheek comes to your attention for the first time.

“Enough what?” You probe, sinking in the cavern you’ve discovered.

“Conviction.” Volcanic eyes trail up to the moon. “To tell me the exact moment when I’ve earned the privilege.”

Suguru gives you ample space to bathe in him while he bathes in moonlight.

It’s uncanny.

How the Priest exists in two different places at once. Down here, with you on the cliff edge. He’s tangible. Thick locks in a poetic cascade down his back. Limbs nearly twice as long as yours, beckoning creatures that only break the surface of Leviathan’s playground to wreak havoc.

Sure, he’s down here.

But he’s also up there.

Somewhere in the ether. Traversing altitudes well above the average, simple minded being. High enough for the Gods to confess their sins. Because Suguru is the only one worthy enough to forgive them.

“You’re staring, Duchess.” His voice holds a grin, and that grin has fingers.

Cruel, torturous fingers that pet and stroke and tease your throbbing core until it’s plush. Your cunt is more intoxicated than you are.

“Eyesight is not a sin, Father.” You retort, crossing your legs before any more arousal leaks from your warm sex. Your gall entirely fueled by Arella’s quote imbedded in your mind.

“Suguru.” The Priest corrects. His sleek, jet black brow elevates. You must be an amusing drunk.

“Suguru.” You acquiesce with a bashful nod.

“So demanding.”

He gifts you his left dimple once more. A feature that is rapidly soaring through your mind’s construct. Undoubtedly the only boyish thing about the stallion of a man next to you.

Straight from Poseidon’s steed.

“Very.” He agrees. “Only when the time calls for it.”

And what time would that be?

“The Dahlias I sent, did you enjoy them?” Suguru deftly redirects the conversation like a captain navigating treacherous waters. As if he heard the blasphemous thoughts starting to brew.

“They are gorgeous.”

Stifling heat emanates from your cheeks. You were so fond of the bouquet that you felt compelled to lie to your betrothed about the source.

“Good.” His eyes capture a moon ray and holds it hostage.

“And the letter?”

“I loved it!” A slurred confession. “I’ve re-read it more times than I can count on my fingers and toes.”

How does his laugh sprint down your spine the way that it does?

Unraveling you bit, by bit. You would stay drunk and stupid if it meant you could keep drawing that addicting sound out of his full lips.

“I was referencing the proposal in the letter, Duchess.”

Suguru’s eyes drop to your bottom lip, now rolled under your teeth. Not even a second passes before he flickers back out to the sea. And you’re grateful for the privacy to darken like Pinot Noir on a corkscrew. Both hands cup your reddened cheeks.

“Yes, of course.” You wave, a matter-of-fact, of course.

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”

That response draws something new from the enigmatic Priest.

Raven locks lift off his back from the speed at which his gaze recoils back to you. Lightning strikes the volcanoes in his eyes. A clenched fist and tense arm drops between his legs.

Is he…steadying himself?

You can’t quite name his expression. Wine or not, you’ve never seen anything like it.

It’s dark. Ominous. Full of bloodlust.

And you’d gladly offer up a vein.

“Pardon?” He rasps, completely fixated on your lips. As to not miss a single word of your answer.

Your hips roll around under his unrelenting stare. “I-I mean, you know best. I will do whatever you think is best for my marriage.”

Suguru barely hears your repeated answer, judging by the way he briefly makes eye contact, before re-settling on your mouth. Heat swells in your puffy cunt. Already hugging your thin, sodden undergarment.

The Priest offers no words.

Just a heady, quiet that pins you to the ground. And your mind, suddenly promiscuous, wonders if this is what it feels like to be beneath a man’s weight. Caged in by muscular arms. Scalded by fiery eyes tracing inch by inch.

Not that you would know.

Not that you know anything about making love. Or men. Or loving a man.

“Will you…can you teach me how to love a man?” The tips of your ears threaten to melt off your head the second your sentence is complete.

Another shocking blow to the Father. His lips hang open in disbelief. For one, two, three seconds before he zips back up. Concealing his thoughts behind a courteous but very present steel barrier.

“I—“ He starts carefully, averting away. “Surely you don’t need to be taught—“

“But I’m pure, Father.” You counter. Searing into his angular profile. “I’ve never…I don’t know how to—“

Cool fingers gently tilt your chin upward. To brand his correction into your memory.

“Suguru.” The Chaplain’s voice glides lower than your inhibition.

Something says that he won’t correct you a third time.

Despite the temperature maintaining the same degree, a sharp jolt of pleasure straightens your spine as your nipples pebble against the silky fabric. You gnaw your cheeks to keep from physically squirming.

“S—Suguru.” You repeat. Subservience wets your drooling sex in a way that makes you want to keep following commands.

Suguru’s tone rubs the folds in your brain smooth.

“Good. Quick learner.” A pleased grin blooms across his lips. “I’ll start with focusing on you.”

The two of you slowly peel away from one another. Crashing waves replace the heady silence.

Well, silence other than your heartbeat rattling between your ears. In your periphery, the Chaplain is now peering outward, at his true home. The coast is clear to return your greedy eyes back to his acute, feline features.

Just enough of his mane is tied back to reveal a pretty mulberry dusting his high cheekbones and pointed nose.

A pleasant surprise to know the demigod warms like the mortals he walks amongst.

“You’re blushing, Suguru.” Girlish satisfaction heavy on your tongue.

Another decadent chuckle pets your womanhood. And this time you have to swallow a moan.

“As are you, Duchess.”

“Darling? There you are!” Ezra’s voice is just as, if not more sobering than his footsteps approaching.

Too soon.

Time bows at Suguru’s feet. The concept doesn’t exist around him. Someone, be it Arella or Noel or now, your soon-to-be husband, someone always has to physically draw you back to the present.

Reality never comes on time. Always too late. Or in your case, always a little too early.

The Chaplain is on his feet in seconds. He swiftly lifts you from the edge and sets you on solid ground. Leaving you dizzied and breathless on the surface.

Guilty and red-handed beneath it.

“Oh sweetheart,” Ezra paws at the soiled fabric, concern etched into his face. “Your dress is completely ruined.”

“I’ll live.” You’re sharper than intended. Surely, from the spirits still thrumming through your veins.

Ezra falters like a wounded puppy. And it tugs on your tattered heartstrings.

“Thank you for the concern, Ezra.” You soften, thumbing his cheek. Purposefully avoiding the violet beams aimed at your face. And shoulders. And hands.

As if the Priest is daring you to keep provoking his searing gaze.

But your fiancé unravels under your rare display of affection. He eagerly leans over to kiss your forehead. Meanwhile your hand desperately magnets to your side.

“Sorry for leaving so abruptly Ezra, I—I had a bit too much to drink and I needed air then—“

“Don’t give it a second thought, my love.”

Your fiancé is gentle with you. Little strokes along the small of your back. And maybe…just maybe your reaction time is dulled because for don’t immediately flinch away.

“Individual counseling starting early then?” Ezra jests. Pristine jade eyes dance between you and Suguru.

The Priest offers a smile about as warm as the Siberian tundra.

“Hardly. Just ensuring the Duchess is out of harm’s way.”

Like your fiancé did with you, you flower under the pad of Suguru’s thumb. A brief swipe, to remove a stray saltwater droplet. But your skin scorches all the same. Unreasonably missing a touch that lasted all of half a moment.

Ezra clears his throat and drops his broad, but not nearly as broad, shoulders.

“I received the memo from your office staff, Father. Please accept this as my formal agreement to proceed with individual counseling.” He reaches out and Suguru takes his hand firmly.

“Duchess,” Suguru beckons without breaking focus on Ezra.

“We will be begin your sessions in three days. Meet me around 8:00 AM in our garden. Yes?”

Our garden.

You are a dirty woman.

The way your core aches at his meaningless, frivolous, harmless words.

“Y-yes. I will be there.” A half-baked attempt at maintaining neutrality.

Your agreement earns you Suguru’s left dimple again. You toss your gaze elsewhere before your knees commit treason.

“Duke, is there an activity you enjoy?” Suguru probes Ezra.

“Sailing.”

“Sailing…?” Suguru lifts an incredulous brow. Blatantly amused by his automatic response.

Granted, you don’t know your future husband that well, but he’s never made mention of any maritime activities.

Meanwhile everyone in this country, two countries over, possibly your home country knows that water belongs to the Chaplain. The element bends to his will.

“Are you certain about that, Duke Ahriman?”

“Yes, Father. We have quite the fleet. I think you would be impressed.”

“Understood. You and I will set sail before Sunrise the day after tomorrow.”

The men exchange pleasantries as they do. Ezra intertwines his loving fingers into your reluctant ones. He ushers the long night to a welcome end.

Five steps into your path home, a blistering heat snakes up your spine. Fanning your shoulders like high noon during summer solstice.

You don’t have to do it.

You know the source, already.

But you do it anyway.

Over your left shoulder, you find the Naval Prince strolling along the unstable rocky ledge with as much grace as he does flat terrain. Eyeing the tide. Searching for the perfect entry home.

Suguru’s trident reflects stark against the moonlight. Upper body completely shed of clothing, lower body with a long, black compression garment. Heavy locks now woven in the same singular braid you met him with. Dark overhead skies somehow illuminating the ridges and shadows of his sculpted arms, and back…and chest.

A glimpse of heaven.

…is staring right back at you.

Possessing you.

“Enjoy your swim!”

The words string together without your consent. Ezra lands his attention on you, startled by the sudden crack in silence.

And the demigod shakes his head. One part disbelief, two parts fond.

“Enjoy your dreams!” Suguru calls back before turning his trident to you. His night has just begun.

You walk away with your betrothed, cloaked in soiled satin and guilt.

Were you in the wrong? Maybe so.

But your heart didn’t choose Ezra. Not yet. You aren’t sure if your heart has even chosen you.

Arella’s gentle wave from the patio welcomes you home. Sleep suddenly descending on your heavy lids.

At least you’re safe, here in your mind’s haven.

For now.

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

“Fuck.”

A tormented hand swipes the bead of moisture tickling a path down Suguru’s temple.

0345

Obscenities seem to spill from his lips a little too easily these days. And his usual coping mechanisms are falling a little too short.

The chaplain drags the hem of his sleepwear down to his thighs.

Each bone, muscle and tendon is utterly spent after tonight’s swim. Every part of his body except the thick rod that springs free from its cage.

Glistening with beads of lust. Taunting him. Making a mockery of his code of conduct.

Thou Shall Not Covet Thy Neighbor’s Wife.

“Really?” Suguru scoffs and screws his eyes shut. His nails dig into the abused sheets to keep from gripping his cock and tugging himself numb.

How convenient.

The Holy Book of Answers and all of its rules makes no mention of how to survive the likes of you.

How does one circumvent murky waters when Thy Neighbor’s Wife is Aphrodite’s reincarnate?

Suguru’s heavy, oversized length pulsates. Its blushing head lays flush with his abdomen, a few inches past his belly button. Leaking pearly arousal onto his damp skin. Still not fully air-dried from the second icy bath since returning to his quarters.

‘I’ll do whatever you ask of me.’

You dangled your submission in front of him.

Him, a red-blooded man.

A ravenous, touch starved, cunt-drunk beast of man. And you sat there. With your dizzying silhouette. And puffy lips. And pert nipples, pebbling from his gaze alone.

Did you think he couldn’t see?

How you pressed your mouth-watering thighs together? With wide, gorgeous eyes. Desperately trying to deny yourself the indulgence.

What if he asked you to spread your legs then and there, pretty girl?

What if he asked you to watch his fingers pet that weeping little cunt of yours? Watch how much honey he could coax out of your needy opening.

Because you were.

So fucking needy.

Suguru could see it from a mile away much less sitting next to you. Tensed legs. Short gasps. Studying his features when you thought his attention lapsed.

‘Can you teach me how to love a man?’

“Oh, sweet girl,” Suguru rolls over to settle a plush pillow between his thighs. The cool, soft cotton rubs blinding friction against his aching length.

This is wrong.

Immoral.

He’s a filthy, disgusting, pervert.

Suguru lurches his hips forward in a deep thrust against the cushion. A shattered groan pushes past his clenched jaw.

It’s a disgrace, the way saliva pooled in his mouth and cum drooled from his cock when you unveiled your purity.

Suguru’s hips rut faster. Brutalizing the pillow. Animalistic sounds bubble out of him.

“Fuck…fuck no..don’t..” Pathetic pleas contradict the pace he humps the fabric. Chasing the whirlpool of lust in his groin.

Demons in hell couldn’t concoct the vile things his mind is showing him. The intricate ways he wants to violate you.

A moral stain for the church

The priest tilts up on his knees. Fucking the pillow in earnest. Picturing its your precious, dewy center that he’s defiling.

He could teach you, gorgeous.

He could shape your untouched core to fit his cock like a sleeve. Perfectly molded to his veins. Slotting into your warm, wet, noble sheath with ease.

He would have you sit on his lap for your first lesson.

His swollen length buried inside you to the hilt. He wouldn’t thrust, not yet. Your body would just clench and squeeze and leak around his intrusion. Suguru wouldn’t retreat out of your cunt until you were begging him to. Teary eyed and drooling from every single opening.

He could teach you. Break you. Turn you into a pretty little cockdumb puppet at his touch.

“God..nngh fuck.” Opaque fog fills his head and lungs.

Sordid moans echo against the walls. Reflecting his sinful behavior, but Suguru is too intoxicated to care. He curls around his swollen cockhead. Feverishly jerking his abused sex. Grinding so pitifully into his hand.

Suguru drops his head. Mumbling your name in full before spewing himself empty into his grasp, the sheets, his pillow.

Shame warmer than the mess of cum he’s currently laying descends. Filling the fuzzy corners of his brain.

Is he really so weak?

“Be stronger than this.” The priest hisses angrily.

Unable to lay in filth for another second, Suguru rockets out of bed. Pulling his sheets, folding his sins away. To be cleansed in the next load of laundry.

A third, icy shower serves the same purpose for him a few minutes later. Glacial droplets soak the length of his mane, again. His manhood hangs away from his body, bucking every couple moments. Threatening to steal his virtue for a second time.

He’ll be a better man when the sun rises.

A tired sigh escapes his lips. At least Suguru is safe, here in his mind’s haven.

For now.

E/N: Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Chaplain, you really have to get a handle on those pesky hands of yours. 🤭

Taglist: @blkkizzat @hayakawalove @rotteneyess

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tjjamess · 2 days

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Im watching a different Les Mis YouTube bootleg every day for a week (because I’m actually insane) so here is a little dump of my thoughts and little details I liked about each one.

Day 1

12/05/2007 Broadway Production

Https://youtu.be/oLOGOiK3zCM?si=_U2Ry5HBa84OfKxY

This is the one that started this whole things cause I heard that Grantaire played the guitar

One song in an Javert and Valjean Are far closer than they need to be

Like was it really necessary to get that close (not that I’m complaining obviously)

Also this Javert kinda… *gets sprizted with water*

omg Fantine’s actress was so good I can’t even comprehend

Like look at that ^

magnificent!

The Thenardiers lean very far into the comedy relief characters

Gary Beach as M. Thenardier!!!

Gavroche was such an icon this performance

favourite character fr fr

and he had a little red bandanna in his costume and I just love that so much

Grantaire carrys him on his shoulders in one day more and he stands with Enjolras in do you hear the people sing

Speaking of one day more this performance was really good

but back to Gavroche…

im gonna pull a Javert cause when Gavroche goes to collect the bullets it’s NOT HIS LITTLE PEOPLE SONG AND IS INSTEAD A MUCH SADDER VERSION

im just gonna attach the video cause omg I can’t

Gavroche’s actor was so good man

he sounded so fucking scared I’m crying

On a lighter note I loved cosette so much her actress was actually so gorgeous and so good

A heart full of love was actually hilarious though

cosette kept turning the other direction every time Marius looked at her to the point she would run after him then turn on her heels in like two seconds flat

AND there was a moment when Marius introduces Eponine and Cosette and they just stare at each other for a long moment I can’t even

Eponines actress was very very good

she sounded a little like she was trying to sing like Frances Ruffelle but she was good so I’m not complaining

A little fall of rain was so sad in this one man

she tried to give him one last kiss before she died but she DIDNT GET TO AAAA

Enjolras hugs Marius and Grantaire shares his drink with him after a little fall of rain!!

then of course guitar Grantaire and accordion Jehan are a highlight

The sillies

Javert soliloquy was a masterpiece but to be fair I say that about every version of Javert’s soliloquy

but you see what I mean when I say Javert kinda…. No! No! Not the spray bottle again!!

I suspend my hate on Marius for this actor cause he was really good I really like his voice and he was a silly little guy

Empty chairs at empty tables hurt my soul

the wedding was absolutely gorgeous the lighting was so good I can’t

Like look how pretty that is ^^^^

i cried like 3 times with was a very good cast very nice very nice

the camera quality wasn’t too bad (other than the few times the camera would get hidden but eh what can you do)

very good I would probably rewatch this bootleg again

#I don’t know why I decided to do this in literally my busiest week of the term but no matter #I think I may have a problem #les miserables #les mis

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eliashirsch · 2 days

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God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions. A Masterlist. (4/3)

More Top Gun fic recs:)) Different pairings ahead.

Winner Categories:

1. Best of the Best Authors (1/3)

2. Best of the Best Series (2/3)

3. Best of the Best Fics (3/3)

4. Honorary Mentions (4/3)

REMINDER! READ THE AUTHORS' TAGS AND WARNINGS!!!

Honorary Mentions

gold rush by gamerring @asimmutableasgravity

All his life, Jake Seresin has wanted to live his life as loud as possible. So that when he dies, people can place flowers on his casket. When the light hits him, sunbaked and smiling and grinning. He's whole and happy and everything he could ever want. He bites down on his teeth. Later, he hunches over the porcelain, petals falling out of his mouth, and is already one step in his grave. - Flowers, fighter pilots and the true fatality of your feelings spilling out.

Jake angst:)) And here’s another one from gamerring:

it's nice to have a friend by gamerring

"Will you marry me?" Ice is on his knees. His posture screams military, but his face is genuine. His eyebrows are furrowed in worry and a hesitant smile plays at his lips. The ring sits in a green velvet box. The band is gold and shiny, with a diamond inlaid in the middle. The rock seems to glow under the sunset, and Maverick's heart starts beating against his chest. This- it's spectacular. It's breathtaking. It's not for him. He bites his cheek for a microsecond, and then forces a smile."That's great. She can't say no to that." And a traitorous part of his soul hopes she does. - Three times Maverick should have said something, and the one time he did.

Just read the summary:) (This is canon.)

Lessons in pushing boundaries by will_thewisp

Maverick never needed lessons in pushing boundaries. Not if those boundaries are about going faster, further or screwing up on an ever increasing scale, because he'd run off the edge of the world before he'd let a thought that scared him shitless take root in his mind. It was enough that it was already in his heart. Or Maverick crashes the Darkstar and needs a very long time to learn that there's things that can and should be fixed. And that he's always had the tools to do it.

Don’t forget a tissue when reading this!

Amen by demiclar @demiclar

"What do you want done with your body when you die?" Pete Mitchell grieves his best friend.

Can you tell I love Mav angst?:)

Vanilla Milk by Specter_Ross

After the mission, Rooster is struggling to sleep so Maverick pulls some old methods out from when Bradley was a kid, in hopes of helping him.

I never get tired of reading MavDad and Bradley:)

A Perch Built for Two by chase_acow @cowsalot

Rooster is well known for keeping his own company, but between Maverick's reemergence and the suicide mission, Hangman manages to weasel his way into Bradley's attention. He's never let an alpha so close to him before, but Hangman might be the best choice - experienced and unlikely to ask for more than Bradley was willing to give. Unfortunately for him, it's Bradley who wants more, and he has no idea how to ask for it.

Another win for Hangster!

A Little Unconventional by McDanno50

Maverick didn’t know how he ended up here a month after the mission – on his back with his legs spread for not one, but two, hungry alphas. These alphas wanted Maverick so much that they no longer fought but worked together all in the name of mutual pleasure. It felt too good to be true, like a fevered dream conjured up by a broken mind. But even if he couldn’t believe his eyes, he had four other senses to rely on. A self-indulgent fic in which Omega!Maverick gets fucked by Alpha!Bradley and Alpha!Jake. That's literally it.

Mav/Bradley/Jake:)))))

Not Clamorous For Pardon by Arsenic @arsenicjade33

Okay, but what if the Navy didn't outlaw flogging as a punishment in 1896? Asking for a friend.

Another one of my favorite tropes: Mav being bullied by the Navy:(

still dangerous by cygnettine

Where was he? Jake was to his right, Bradley in front of him, the girls between their dads. Someone was missing. He was missing. Why was he missing? He was supposed to be there; that was a family dinner and he was family, he was his whole soul, why wasn’t he there? *** Maverick loses himself and wanders helplessly in his own mind until someone finally comes to his rescue.

Mav has Alzheimer's Disease:(

take a chance on the edge of life by Lacerta

It was a suicide mission. Of course they didn't succeed on their first try. - When Maverick dies, he loops back to the morning before.

An Edge of Tomorrow AU. Love this one.

you've got the win in your bag by discosleaze @paulmezcal

“I’m going to go in and get something pierced, and if you’re a good boy, it’ll be my nipple. If you’re not, it’ll be my tongue.” Speaking of tongues, Bradley just about swallows his. “Why would that be a bad thing?” he croaks out, not enjoying how amused Jake is, mocking, even. “Well, Bradshaw, because I wouldn’t be able to blow you for weeks afterwards.” Jake contemplates a second piercing, Bradley contemplates nothing.

asdfghfghjkjhgfdsadfg. This one’s too hot for me.

How Big? by thenofutureshoe

"Most people would have had to give themselves a pep-talk, most people would have been nervous or unsure of the whole thing, Maverick Mitchell was not most people. He was a fucking power bottom and proud of it. This was not his first rodeo, pun intended. And he always got his man." Once Maverick hears the story behind Slider's callsign, it sounds more like a challenge than anything else.

This one… I never thought their difference in size could be this hot…

a dream of crashing by thefireplanet

Maverick buys a plane. Somehow, this becomes Iceman’s problem.

THIS ONE’S NOT COMPLETED! But it’s still so fun to read and the characterization is spot on!

and the bunny goes 𝒽𝑜𝓅, 𝒽𝑜𝓅, 𝒽𝑜𝓅 by Meadow_Wanderer

Contrary to expectation, he rarely measures time by the number of years he's lived without his father. Instead, he appraises in happenings. Every birthday, school graduation, and precious firsts; every milestone passing as the memory of his father becomes fainter and fainter until finally he reaches the last occasion where the end and the beginning meet, the son and the sire a breath's width apart, like reaching to touch one's reflection in the mirror. The very same one he'll face in just shy of a few hours.

Weird and fun!

you are not alone (i watch over you) by redwithlove

“Bradley, do you remember the time when you were eight and you wouldn't let me near your Pops for two days?” “What, really? Why?” “Yeah, for two whole days, can you believe it? And it all started over a can of Pringles.” Or—Bradley with Ice and Maverick over the years.

Mav and Ice and Bradley being family:) My favorite genre of topgun fics:))

PHEW! That's all the fics I've got! Thanks for reading until the end! Don't forget to leave a comment on these fics if you enjoyed them!

Here's my google doc for all four categories! >> God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions: A Masterlist

#as always if you know these authors' tumblrs feel free to tag them!#and tell me if i tagged the wrong person or put the wrong link:')#this was a fun journey and i was reminded of how much fun i had reading all of these!#i hope y'all enjoyed my yapping:)#icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x maverick #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick #top gun #hangster #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #fanfic rec #top gun fic recs #fanfiction recommendation

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mi-i-zori · 1 day

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From the Seas to the Skies

CoD - Nikto

SYNOPSIS : When his mind becomes overwhelmed with daylight, Nikto finds comfort in the night.

WARNINGS : Dark thoughts (Nikto is thinking about death). Could be read as angst with comfort ? Please read at your own risk.

Author’s Note : I wanted to write something for Mermay, but didn’t really have anything that came to mind. So I mixed my own love for both the sea and the sky, and took a few hours to write this. Not exactly something related to mermaids, but it is inspired by the sea, so. I really like exploring a character’s thoughts, so I gave Nikto a little backstory here. Hope you like it !

I do not give anyone permission to re-publish, re-use and/or translate my work, be it here or on another platform.

Nikto has always been a dreamer.

When night falls, coating both sky and Earth in a dark, velvety cloak, the world falls silent. Its expectations, weighing heavy on his mind during the day, seem to vanish without a trace for a few hours. No one is there to watch him with barely-concealed suspicion, to judge him simply for the way he carries himself - condemning the walls he keeps building around himself in a desperate attempt to protect his mind.

Only when the moon rises in the sky, full of beauty and peace, can he allow himself to breathe. To lay down under its light, feeling it place a gentle caress on his scars despite the too many layers he constantly wears. His heart finally finds a steady pace to follow. Bad-dum, it sighs as he closes his eyes, ba-dum, ba-dum - an echo he easily thinks to be gone the second the sun lightens the horizon. It’s living, soothing, hoping.

Nikto learned a long time ago to never take this feeling for granted.

He wonders if the moon taught him what it is like to love, and be loved. And yet, he can’t help but favour the nights it marks through its absence, giving way to a mesmerising sight.

A void. A celestial abyss, so similar to what lies within his soul. When his missions send him to the most remote areas of the world, a simple glance allows him to take in the beauty hiding behind such a terrifying darkness ; the thousands and thousands of diamonds sewed onto the never-ending fabric, blinking at him like his own eyes blink at them. Sometimes, he can see colours through their light, the faintest blues and reds - and he remembers a moment lost in the blur of his childhood, when a now faceless man told him about the meaning of these peculiar hues.

« When a star is blue, » the vision says, « it means it’s still young ; due to live a long life among its kin. »

« A red star, however, is seeing its fire getting weaker, colder. On the scale of the universe, it won’t be long before it swells and swells, swallowing many others in its wake, before either spreading destruction through a long-awaited explosion, or slowly reduce itself to nothingness by letting its fire consume it entirely. »

« It’s a scary thing to know, » the man says as the memory keeps playing in Nikto’s mind, the distant echo of his voice seemingly full of longing. « Our sun is a star. It’s very likely that it will end up swallowing us too, while on its way to its death. It’s up to Fate to decide whether our whole Solar System goes down with it, or follows a more peaceful path. »

Like one of those many stars, Nikto’s eyes are blue. He wonders if it is a sign that he will get to live a long life ; if that would be a blessing, or a curse. If he will face his end with rage, resignation, or peace.

After a few seconds of pondering, he finally remembers that man - though his memory of such times is still uncertain in many places. He was the only person in his childhood who showed any kind of enthusiasm when learning about his fascination for the skies. Who shared countless stories about how he himself came to love astronomy, the notes he took during his life ; tales of how the stars came to be, and the meaning behind the constellations. Nikto remembers how excited he always was to meet with the one he considered to be his only friend.

Once, the elder showed him a few of his favourite tattoos - witnesses of his love for the stars. Constellations, approximate attempts at recreating the likeness of a nebula, a rainfall of comets… The child he once was looked at them all with awe before stating how much he wanted to have one like this. One of the Bears, like the stuffed animal he spent his nights with for so many years. The old man had offered him a hearty laugh, as well as a ruffle of his once dark hair, claiming that when he would become an adult, he could have the freedom to do everything he wanted.

Words that now seem to hold both a form of truth, and a sickening irony.

Despite being long gone, that friend is the reason why, from time to time, he finds himself admiring the colourful photographs shared on the NASA website. Scrolling from article to article, from picture to picture, wishing he could see such sights from his tiny spot on the surface of the Earth. Nebulae, supernovas, syzygies. Galaxies, comets, asteroids. Suns, planets, black holes. Should he find himself lost in the infinite, would he be able to see his favourite constellations ? Create his own ?

Would he even have the time to do so ?

Or would his breath stay caught in his throat, unable to flow in or out of his mouth ? Would he slowly suffocate, clawing at his throat, the feeling of it all burning him down to the bone ? Maybe the stars would be the ones to lay him to rest, freezing his heart with a single touch while reaching for his soul ; keeping it inside of their never-ending, peaceful chaos for the rest of eternity. At this point in his life, he can’t help but think the universe would be much more merciful than anything he could find on Earth.

But you don’t know for sure, is what the whispers tell him in the dead of the night, and he can’t even find a way to reply through his exhaustion.

Instead, he opens one of his many playlists, and closes his eyes to the songs of the whales. Usually, Nikto despises the very idea of noise. It assaults his mind during every waking hour though cries and laughs, rumbles and clicks ; it’s sudden, sharp, loud, loud and loud, refuses to let him breathe. Yet he holds a certain control over the sounds he wears directly in his ears, the natural melodies he chooses creating a peculiar harmony with the inner turmoil that flows in his guts.

Sometimes, the more violent musics he plays help fuel his mind, stripping him down to his most mechanical instincts before setting foot on the battlefield. The whales, however, lost somewhere in the depths of the seas, always know how to appease his fire. How to reflect his moon into the ocean.

During his most vulnerable moments, when the Lady of the Night stays cloaked in darkness to bless him with the sight of the Milky Way, Nikto always ends up creating a bridge between the seas and the skies.

And then, he dreams.

He sees the silhouettes of the singing whales among the stars, leaping and twirling over clusters of rainbows. Watches the cosmic fish swimming up the nebulous currents, the burning sharks devouring asteroid after asteroid as they roam the infinite. Sirens lure him into unknown galaxies, circling around him over and over as he abandons all thought in the shine of their scales ; and he quickly loses count of the marvels they allow him to witness through the window of his mind, mesmerised by it all like he used to be when he was still a child.

When he wakes, the disappointment tears his guts apart. Reality settles in once more as he sets his feet on the cold floor, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. It doesn’t take him long to throw his usual attire on, concealing his face - and thoughts - once more. His iron walls progressively settle around him, steeling his gaze right on time for him to step out into the world.

The expectations are back on his shoulders, and so are the suspicious looks. The obvious sneers bounce off his armour as he makes his way down to the training grounds, heavy steps echoing down the grey corridors. The past night’s reverie is gone, buried in the back of his mind where the light of day never shines. But it will be back ; that is for certain.

For the night will never cease to fall, and the moon to rise. And under the scars littering his mutilated flesh, peeking out slightly from the underside of his arm, the Ursa Major stays the only remaining witness of a bottomless passion, and memories of a past he would give his life to protect.

A light in his never-ending darkness.

#nikto cod #cod nikto #mwii nikto #mw2 nikto #call of duty nikto #nikto #andre nikto #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod fanfiction #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw3 #cod mwiii #mermay #cod mermay #mermay 2024

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some-pers0n · 7 hours

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Oh yeah I forgot to share this pretty angsty lil' letter from Clearsight to Darkstalker. Kinda like the letters in AGTTDW. How goofy :]

Editor's Note: This is a letter recovered from Clearsight's tomb, unearthed in 5,013 AS. Date of when the entry was written is unclear, but assumed to be the end of her life.

I wonder if you dream. A part of me wishes you did. Another wants you to remain in darkness forever. I don't know what to believe. Even after all of these years, I still feel like the same, innocent dragon. Like all of my growth and change on this continent cancels the moment you cross my mind.

You were my love. You were everything to me. Even when you fell into your path, I still mourn you.

I know it's foolish. Writing this letter addressed to the dragon I know fully well is sealed away is foolish. You cannot read this. You are gone. Not dead, as you can never die, but gone. I hope you fade into obscurity as you rest under the mountains, locked in an eternal sleep. I hope that, when I and everyone you harmed have passed on, your name is never uttered again.

And yet I love you. For what reason I can only theorize. You are an eternal enigma to me. You were my light. You were the dark that almost swallowed me whole. I had hopes that you and I would have a family and live happily. You dreamt of ruling the world with utmost tyranny and ruthlessness.

Do you still dream of that? If you can dream, of course. I would hope to believe that, somewhere in your subconscious, you reform. Reflect. Through millennia of contemplation, you learn to remove that evil from your soul. I would hope that, if you ever return to the surface, you emerge a changed dragon. The dragon whom I loved.

The dragon I love now is different. The life I love now is different. Because of you, I traveled to a continent far beyond our imagination. I recall late-night conversations of exploring the world. We would joke and laugh over the prospect of being some grand adventurers. It's a shame I am the only one to fulfill that wish.

Pantala is beautiful. You would have loved it. It's more than anything you and I could have ever dreamed of. My husbands and children are more than anything I could have wanted from life. They still thank me for warning them of the hurricane that brought me here. I wonder if you would've saved them had you received that vision. If you had seen the destruction that would've befallen the continent and chose to save it out of the goodness of your heart or leave it to rot. Perhaps you might have saved it to exploit them. To let them worship you.

You wanted that the most out of life. A part of me feels guilty I am surrounded by love while the only company you have is the lonely cave you are trapped in. A part of me lavishes in it. Yet, I knew that's what you wanted most. Love. It's what made you the way that you are. Your love, both your search and way of displaying it, is the reason for this future.

You blamed your father for everything. Arctic. I never once heard you talk of him with anything more warm than a hateful sneer. I knew even before I met you that you hated him. I had seen visions of you killing him. Some with pity. Some far more gruesome than I could have ever imagined. You saw him as the catalyst. That he instilled the ideas you held.

I do not doubt that. I had been around Arctic long enough to understand what he did to you and your family. I had heard the stories, both from you and Whiteout. He was a monster in his own right.

You were a monster in a wholly new way. A monster that I deluded myself into believing I loved the current version of. I loved the future version. I loved the Darkstalker in my visions who treated me with respect. The one that would never use his magic unless it was for the one-off spell for an anniversary gift. The one who would be there at my side when I needed him most. The one who loved me for who I was and not what I represented.

You were not that dragon. You had the same scales and you talked the same, but you were not him. You were a dragon who I watched be corrupted by rage and hatred for the world. You were angry at Arctic. You were angry at the world. You felt as though you knew better than anyone. You were the savior. You would bring the continent to its glory with you at the top.

I did not love that dragon, but you loved me. You thought you could trick me. You thought you could warp my mind and shape me into somebody agreeable and nice. That earring is when I knew for certain you could never be the dragon I loved. You saw me as a partner, but I saw you as nothing more than a force of evil cloaked in the scales of the dragon that was my soulmate.

I feel conflicted about everything you were, are now, and could've been. I did love you when you were alive. I loved the future version. I don't know what now. I am nearing the end of it all, and I still cannot find a proper answer.

I always find myself asking whether you dream. I dream of you. They are nightmares no matter what way I spin them. Even when they are memories of the days we would laugh and play, I wake up with tears in my eyes. I wonder if when I die I'll be granted the luxury of a sleep without you. I want my last thought to be of my friends and family on Pantala. I want to think of what I've done rather than my past. Rather what could have been.

I know this letter may never reach you. Maybe it does, and it is simply that my powers have finally found their limit. I write for some release. Closure. That, when this is sealed away in my tomb, it remains with me. That the memories of everything you've ever done die with me.

I am not the dragon I was when I sealed you away, and yet in many ways I still am. I still hold a flicker of love for you, despite knowing that you can never be the dragon I wanted.

I remember that brief moment when I wanted to stay next to you when the earthquake would cause the mountain to collapse. I felt so grief-stricken over the loss of you that I wanted nothing more than to die next to you. I made the best choice. I know I did. The alternative was me dying when I was a young, naive child.

Yet I can't help but still feel I should have. My love for you persists to that extent. I love you. I hate you. I want nothing more than you to rot under that mountain. I wish could dream of a world where life could have been different. A life where we both made it work. Where we were happy.

Darkstalker, you were my love. Perhaps in another, more kinder life, we could be together.

Dream of our dragonets if you can.

Clearsight

#sp-writing #wof #wings of fire #darkstalker wof #clearsight wof #wings of fire fanfic #wof fanfic

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