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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

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Met Gala

a/n Right so because I haven't yet recovered from all the strokes I've suffered from seeing that man slaying so hard. Here is something that hopefully will help. Enjoy and as always all the love is so appreciated!🤍✨

summary: very much self explanatory. Pedro and actress!reader attending met gala.

dress references: option one, two and three because like a true woman I can't pick...

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Talk about life-changing experiences. When you auditioned for The Last Of Us, you never truly believed that you could get it. You were a freshly baked actress who had successful shows in the past, but nothing too explosive. People turned their heads towards you when they just came out, and then you were back to being nothing. Fighting for the spotlight was quite something, and even if you never cared for it much, it was still important for you to do justice to the characters you got to play.

So to say that the whole experience that The Last Of Us brought to you was new and unfamiliar would be an understatement. It was your ultimate breakthrough. The opportunities were flooding in from all directions, and most of the time they included much more than just acting. Yet all the background noise aside, this was where you found your second family. People who were way more than just costars or screen buddies. You often joked with Craig that he had ruined acting for you. That no matter where you went and what you did, you would always be missing the crew of The Last Of Us.

"I still think that it's unfair that we are in separate hotel rooms", Pedro said while trying to set his phone up on the table. You two had flown to New York from different locations. Both of you were occupied with your own projects now, meaning that you haven't seen each other in a couple of weeks. The relationship between you two sparked so quickly that within a day of knowing him, it already felt like Pedro had been a lifelong friend. He was one of those people who just radiated happiness and kindness. One of those people you knew was going to leave an imprint on your life.

"If we were in the same room, I doubt we would make it onto the carpet, P", Pedro couldn't see your face fully. Your phone faced the ceiling as you tried to put on some fake lashes. All Pedro got was a glimpse at your hair full of rollers. And even that was enough to make his heart a little more jittery. Pedro had missed you. More than missed you. You two had been together every day while shooting TLOU. Always laughing. Always talking. Renting a different Airbnb to stay in if you stay in the current location for a longer time. Needing that much more than a cold hotel room. That also meant that the dynamic got rather domestic between the two of you. Waking up with you, having breakfast with you, and driving to set together. No matter where or what you did, you were always together, and that was something that ripped at Pedro's heart on a daily basis now that you two had gone your separate ways to do individual projects.

"I will have a migraine before I send him off. All I've been hearing is Y/N this, Y/N that", Coco, Pedro's stylist and one of your friends now, cut in, making Pedro let out an obnoxious gasp. "That is so not true. How dare you!", he exhaled, placing a hand over his chest offensively. But hearing your laugh on the other side of the phone was all he truly needed; Pedro felt his body at ease. "It's okay, P, separation anxiety or not, I still love you", you moved more in the frame, and Pedro instantly caught your eye. Beautiful as ever as you smiled at him. But he just shook his head, keeping up with the character, "You two are working against me today, mean ladies", before you three burst into a laugh together.

"Is Bella driving with you?", you asked once again while still fidgeting through your makeup bag. "No, they will be going earlier on. Want to avoid the chaos that builds when more people come in", you hummed at his answer. Perfectly understanding it, because the amount of paparazzi at the Met Gala was quite literally a sea. Add celebrity after celebrity climbing the infamous stairs, and you have a recipe for the chaos that is filled with endless flashing and screams. So knowing that they would be there before it all went wild eased your nerves slightly. Just deep down, you wished you could do the same thing. Fearing the moment you would have to step out of the car. What if you tripped? What if something broke? What if you messed up?

As if sensing the worry rising within you, Pedro picked up the conversation once again, "Is someone coming with you?". Pedro was worried as well. Not that much for himself, even if he wasn't a huge fan of events so flashy, but for you. Even in The Last Of Us premieres, he had noticed the way your body would run cold, and anxiety threatened to take over. He was always there to subtly bring you back. Give you something to focus on. Whether it was his hand that would rub patterns on your back, his knee that rested against your shaky leg, or his finger reaching out to playful poke your side so he could take your mind off it.

You hummed, "Yeah, Blake said he'd be there just in case", Pedro nodded his head even if you couldn't see it, satisfied with the answer. Blake was your manager and best friend. Pedro got to meet him more than a couple of times and, in all honesty, liked him. It was that extra layer of calmness that lingered, knowing that someone he also trusted would be there. Someone who had been with you through the years and who knew how to handle things if they suddenly got complicated.

"Are you excited?", you took your phone in your hands, getting a closer look at the man who Coco was fussing over. "To see you? Yes", Pedro chirped, and you rolled your eyes instantly. "You're a shameless flirt. I saw that you painted your nails". Pedro quickly showed both of his middle fingers to the camera, quite literally flipping you off. "Oh, thank you, love", you said, laughing as he quickly lowered his hand as he too realized how it looked.

Pedro was about to speak up when someone called out your name, pulling your attention away from the phone. "I'll have to go", you flashed Pedro a sad smile. "They want to tape my titties", "And I'm not getting behind-the-scenes footage?", Pedro leaned in closer, bringing his phone practically to his face as if he somehow was going to get a better look at what your stylist was going to do. "Pedro…", you laughed as you shook your head. "Will I get to see you putting on your pants?", you teased him back. Not wanting to end the call even if the lady was already waiting for you. Pedro only threw you a sheepish smile. "Who said I'm wearing any?", and once again all you could do was let out yet another laugh.

That was two hours ago, yet it seemed more like a lifetime. "Breathe, before I'll have to drag your past-down body up the stairs", Blake joked, noticing how you were running your hands up and down the fabric of your cover before moving to run your fingers over all the different beads and lace layers. "I'm just nervous", you admitted, looking through the car window. Smiling wasn't the hardest part. Most people would probably think that you're ungrateful for not wanting to go. Many would do anything to attend, but you were never a huge fan of being in the spotlight. All eyes on you sounded more like a nightmare than a dream. The thought itself made your body shiver.

"It'll be okay; pose a little and drink a lot", you rolled your eyes at him. You loved having him by your side. Not understanding why most people hate working with their best friends or family. It was such a liberating feeling knowing that you could trust Blake fully and that when you didn't feel like handling some things, he could easily do it without you since, at times, he knew you even better than you did.

Pedro knew that he was going to be there before you. Coco had told him that you were still in the hotel right before their car took off. He wasn't lying when he said that he was excited to see you. Most of his nervousness was centered around that. He knew that nothing had changed between you. If anything, things were okay, but he would have preferred to see you before the event and have a calm moment together instead of being thrown into madness like this.

He posted like he always did. Knowing well how to capture the attention of the crowd. Flipping the cameras a couple of times to show off his nails, just like he had done with you. Time escaped you in moments like this. It was always hard to tell if you'd been standing in front of the flashing lights for ten minutes or an hour. Your brain only focused on angles and poses, but then the shouting at the bottom of the stairs caught his attention.

Pedro turned to look to the side as you moved to step out of the car. He was sure that people were going to have a blast looking at his reaction afterward, but he couldn't help but look. You two purposely hid your outfits from each other. Well, at the start, you had thought about going matching and even doing the same designer, but you quickly realized that it might raise too many speculations. Pedro couldn't help but smile a proud smile as he watched you glide through the carpet. A goddess. That's what you were in his eyes. No one could come close to you, and sure, you could call him biased, but to him, you were the most beautiful female here tonight.

"Get pictures of Y/N; that's the real diamond of the night", he shouted, moving both of his arms to show you. Making you snap your head toward him. Your cool posing face was quickly replaced by a shy smile as you bit your lip. Of course, he was having a blast showing you off. "Mesmerized and speechless", he muttered to you when you were almost within reach. "Hello, daddy", you whispered as he took hold of your hand, guiding you up the steps leading to him. Pedro tilted his head laughing, saying, "Hello to you, mama". You doubted that you were thinking straight. He looked so good. The slick-back hair. The red color. You were an advocate that pink was the color Pedro owned, but red… Something about the red made all the systems shut down for a split second.

"I understand now why this was hidden from me", Pedro said, moving a step back from you so he could take your whole outfit in. He shook his head, almost in disbelief. "Don't", you warned him, trying to keep a smile off your face. This man knew how to get under your skin. He had made you redder than a tomato, even on set. Complimenting you even if you were in nothing but a baggy shirt with your hair messily pulled back. "Especially when you rolled up looking like this", you glanced down at the black shorts that he was rocking. "Where was my warning that the slutty knee was going to be on display?", but Pedro didn't say anything as he grinned, stepping alongside you. Pulling your body closer to his. His arm curled around your torso. Firmly pressing into the central boning of your dress. You could feel the warmth from his palm seeping into your tummy. He was standing just slightly behind you, but you could still see his outfit.

People were going crazy, and keeping a straight face while you posed was getting harder, especially when all you could hear were people screaming your names as an occasional they look like a couple, they must be dating. Are you together? Are you in love? Flouted around. Oh, he was going to drive you insane, and he knew it. Enjoying every single moment of it.

And even if it seemed almost impossible, Pedro stepped even closer to you and leaned in, pressing a kiss on your exposed shoulder. Your body froze for a moment. The butterflies burst inside you. If you weren't red by now, this definitely send you over the edge. You two were supposed to keep it chill. Not to bring too many eyes your way, but this man had other thoughts. Ever since the production started, people have been talking that the chemistry between you seemed way too good to just be acting. That the touches you two shared or the looks that lingered had to be a disguise for something. But then it would all mellow down as Pedro would be seen as a loving father figure to Bella or Nico. You had to find a balance. A light kiss could be brushed off as a sign of mutual respect. I don't know… mutual something?

But no… At that moment, it seemed like only you were thinking about everyone else's opinions. Pedro kissed your shoulder once before leaning back in to brush at least a couple more feather-like kisses along your skin. "Pedro", you muttered. Moving your hand to rest on his leg, you said, "You'll get us in trouble, you little shit". Your fingertips just about reached the exposed skin of his thigh as you grazed your nails over it. Pedro let out a muffled growl, "And you care?".

You shook your head as a laugh escaped your lips. The PR team was going to rip both of your heads off tomorrow; you were sure of it. But feeling him so close felt good. The smell of him. The way you could feel his breath on your skin. You moved to look up at Pedro, his body reacting to your movements as he lowered his gaze. Your eyes met, and for a heartbeat, you couldn't hear anything; it was just him and you. Pedro leaned in to place a kiss on your temple, and the crowd of paparazzi exploded. There wasn't a second when not even one camera wasn't going off. People were trying to surround you and get pictures of you two from all the different angles.

The screams pierced through your ears, making you take a light step back into Pedro. One of the photographs got way too close, and when the flash finally snapped, you quickly turned your head away from them, shifting towards Pedro's chest. He was quick to lift his palm to cover your eyes as an initial reaction before he stepped in front of you, shielding your body with his. You gave him a little smile as you blinked a couple of times, trying to get the stinging feeling to go away.

"You're okay?", he asked softly, his arms not letting go of your body as he looked around trying to find Blake. He nodded at him the moment he noticed the male approaching. "I'm fine, thank you", you knew that you needed to finish with the pictures and just go up, but being exposed to them all was the last thing on your wishlist. "Come on, let's get…", Pedro was ready to just walk you up, but you quickly took his hand into yours. "Smile", you mumbled quietly as you stepped from behind him, refueling the chaos once more, but this was just how these things worked, and you had to pull through even if you could tell that Pedro was silently fighting this decision you had chosen.

Your hands were trembling when you finally made it up. You had close to no recollection of what you talked about in the handful of interviews that you had. Just thankful to be in a little, private area away from all of the people now, even if you could still hear them all shouting. Not many people lingered here, and for that, you were thankful. Closing your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself a chance to breathe.

"You are too stubborn for your good", you slowly opened your eyes, catching a glimpse of Pedro standing in front of you with a glass of water in hand. "No bubbles?", you joked as you place the glass to your lips. "So your heart would explode and I'd be the main suspect? No, thank you", Pedro shook his head, urging you to drink some more. "Careful, Javier Pena just jumped out", you teased him, and Pedro nudged your shoulder playfully.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look?", he asked you, carefully moving to push a strand of hair behind your ear. You wished your body wasn't as responsive as you felt yet another shiver slip past you. "I think you showed it, detective", you said, tilting your head to the side. Pedro read it as an invitation to press a kiss on your shoulders again. This time, however, he took his time, knowing that the corner he had chosen was far enough for you to stay out of sight. It was like he was painting a picture on your skin, the pattern snaking from shoulder to neck, right behind your ear. You desperately want to run your hands through his hair, but you know that if you messed with it, there would be no going back, so you gently place your hand on the back of his neck. Scraping your nails gently.

"We can't", you remind him, yet you don't pull away. Quite the opposite, bringing him even closer. "I haven't seen my girlfriend in two weeks", Pedro reminded you bluntly, hands now firmly holding onto your waist. "Tiny detail. They don't know you have a girlfriend". The lines had been blurry between the two of you from the start. There was a lot of respect there. Before more romantic scenes, you would always sit down and talk about each other's boundaries. Things one and the other were comfortable doing and not. The communication between the two of you was like no other. It was easy. It was comfortable. It made you feel safe. So when you fell into bed together after a particularly steamy shoot, it didn't surprise you all too much. But even that felt right, and after long conversations, you decided to give it a go. You both had some shit experiences with your past relationships, which made you both pretty weary of long-term commitment, but you were willing to give it a chance, and that was all that mattered.

That had been going on for six months now, and no one besides your managers knew. It was odd telling them even before you told your families, but you needed to have a damage control system ready to go off the moment something slipped up or too many speculations started to linger. And it wasn't that you were scared of people's reactions. Most of them wanted you married already, not to mention the need for you to have kids and finally make Pedro a real daddy. It was all sweet, but you two wanted to do this for yourselves. To enjoy the time together without anyone and their mother trying to dig through your lives and write endless amounts of articles about every move you too took together.

"We need to find Bella", you muttered, pushing lightly onto Pedro's chest. Knowing that you needed to stop him before he lost his cool and you would have to walk around with freshly formed hickeys. Pedro rested his forehead on your shoulder and said, "I asked Blake to look for her", "Well, that makes sense why he's not here, huh", Pedro let out a chuckle even if he shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear innocent.

You quickly smoothed down his coat, straightened his black tie, and pulled at the edges of his shorts. "Alright there, trying to get my pants off so quickly", he said, and you pinched his leg playfully, making him step away from you. "Watch it, Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal or we might just sleep in separate rooms tonight", you said, pointing a warning finger at him. But Pedro didn't seem to feel threatened, as he wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling it closer to him so he could kiss the tip of your finger.

"We both know you won't take away my pleasure of taking that boobie tape off you", that was enough to send you into another fit of laughter. You had no clue why that thing mesmerized him so much, but there hasn't been a time since you started dating him that he hasn't participated in that procedure. "You, sir, are so weird", standing up, and fixing up your clothes, you tugged at the top of your dress to feel a bit more comfortable, "Sure, but you love me, so who are we fooling?", Pedro offered you his hand, which you gladly took, leaning closer into him. "Let's go find our kid before I go grey from all the worrying".

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #javier pena x reader

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slytherizz · 10 months

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A Different Kind of Wager - Sebastian Sallow x Female!MC/Reader

Summary: Sebastian makes a wager with his girlfriend that will make the outcome of their final Crossed Wands duel before their graduation far more interesting.

My main fic has been sucking the life out of me with the angst and suffering. So here is some shameless smut I've been working on!

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, duelling as a questionable form of foreplay, Lucan Brattleby runs an illegal gambling operation

You can find all the tags on Ao3 :)

She nibbled idly on the end of her quill her brows drawn together in that cute little frown as it always graced her features when she was deep in concentration. With their NEWT’s closing in fast Sebastian felt like he’d barely seen anywhere but the inside of his dormitory and the dusty shelves of this library for weeks.

Not that he was getting much work done.

The blazing summer sun pouring through the windows made even the normally cool library stiflingly hot. Her tie was pulled loose where it hung around her neck, the top buttons of her blouse undone exposing the heat and blossoming beads of sweat on her clavicle were more than a bit distracting.

Over the last few weeks, Sebastian barely had enough time to sleep around his revision let alone spend any quality time with her outside of the library. Which had left him more than a bit frustrated that even a glimpse of skin was enough to have his thoughts so far from his own Potion’s essay.

So, he’d settled himself into the comfortable position of twirling her hair around one of his fingers whilst staring directly down her shirt. Sebastian hoped if he kept this up for long enough she’d eventually snap at his annoying prodding. If he got her wound up enough it would more often than not end in a frustrated fumble and if he got her seething which with how badly her history of magic revision seemed to be going was likely he’d work her up enough that she’d let him fuck her in the restricted section to release the tension.

A loud bang rang out echoing through the library as the heavy oak doors slammed pulling Sebastian abruptly from his fantasies. Sebastian cringed internally for the poor sod who had surely invoked Scribner’s wrath. He heard muffled apologies answer Scribner’s shrill scolding which rang through the echoing library like a bell. He’d been on the receiving end of one of the aged librarians foul moods more times than he cared to remember and did not envy the recipient.

Flushed with embarrassment, Lucan Brattleby scouted sheepishly once Scribner was satisfied he’d had an earful and moved her attentions elsewhere. Although taller now the fifth year was no less baby faced the scarlet of his robes accentuating the flush in his cheeks. As he spotted them from the far side of the library and hurried towards the back table where they’d sequestered themselves away.

“Ah, there you both are! Been looking all over the bloody castle for you.”

“Seventh-year Lucan,” she sighed rolling up her parchment with a smile “If we’re not in the library we’re crying in the toilets.”

“Not too busy for tonight I hope,” he smiled nervously, eyes wide in a pleading stare.

Sebastian had forgotten, between preparation for NEWT’s and spending the week desperately trying to get his girlfriend alone a final match of the Crossed Wands was far from the top on his list of priorities.

“Don’t you worry we’ll be there,” she smiled before Sebastian could disagree with more than a few ideas of what he'd rather do with her in his free time.

Lucan breathed a sigh of relief “Good that would throw the entire betting pool out of sorts. Not that I can let you two in on the fun I’m afraid. Can’t have one of you throwing a match and making off with the pot,” he grinned, brown eyes alight with mischief “I have some class as to not allow insider betting…that and the Ravenclaws would have my head.”

“Surely you can spare a kickback for old friends?” Sebastian quirked.

“You do it for the glory Sallow and you know it,” she grinned at him.

“Touché.”

“Slight change of plans for tonight,” added Lucan blushing clearly seeing it painted across Sebastian’s face exactly what he’d rather be doing tonight. “We’re in the Astronomy Tower. Too many close calls with Professor Weasley in the Clocktower Courtyard.”

“Don’t you worry we’ll be there. One last hurrah before exams completely destroy our social lives,” she sighed.

“I’ll see you both tonight!” Lucan clapped his hands together with glee looking between them conspiratorially before hurrying off.

If Sebastian was frustrated with their lack of time for each other now, he realised that would only get worse with exams looming over them edging closer. Sebastian leaned back in his chair and sighed dramatically, and he swore he saw her roll her eyes.

“It’s been ages since we duelled. It’ll be nice to do something apart from our usual verbal sparring,” she encouraged. But Sebastian’s thoughts were far from duelling when the idea struck him.

“Shame to let Lucan have all the fun," he said slowly leaning in close enough so his breath could disturb the loose hairs around her face "Care to make this more interesting?”

“I know that look. What are you plotting?”

“How about a little wager?”

“What kind of wager?” she narrowed her eyes at him.

Sebastian's eyes flicked around the room, as Lucan slammed the door a second time sending Scribner once again on the warpath. Directing her spitting rage towards some poor Gryffindor second-years who had tried to smuggle pumpkin pasties into the library and had gotten crumbs and oily fingerprints all over their books.

Satisfied they were secluded away from any prying eyes he hooked his finger under the hem of her long skirt where it had ridden up over her crossed legs. His hand stroked purposefully up the bare skin underneath, ghosting up the inside of her thighs teasing the soft skin with a gentle scratch of his fingernails that sent a shiver through her.

She looked at him half amused, but he could see how her pupils had been blown wide from the lightest touch that promised everything.

“I have some ideas.”

***

Even Sebastian was baffled at the sheer number of students who’d managed to sneak out of their common rooms to make the long trek to the Astronomy tower that night. Whoever had done the imperturbable charm had done an impressive job not a sound could be heard from outside of the classroom, despite the deafening din inside. There had to be at least fifty students crammed into the observation deck. They clang to the railings hitching themselves up high to get the best view.

“Last call to get your bets in. Come on don’t be shy!” Lucan shouted over the hectic crowd that had surrounded him. Students jostled each other as they attempted to push forward to get closer to the board. “I’ve got some 20:1 odds-on Prewitt - put your money on the Underdog and you could walk away with half the pot.”

Lucan was truly in his element. His left fist clutched full of betting slips, he scratched frantically with his chalk at the betting pool he’d meticulously crafted on the blackboard he must have nicked from the arithmancy classroom and lugged up to the tallest point of the castle. Students inspected the match-ups before shoving galleons into his waiting hands.

Sebastian really did admire his entrepreneurial spirit. Taking over an unsanctioned duelling club in your third year was one thing but making a profit off of it was a stroke of genius. He’d begun his enterprise last year started in with a few well-meaning bets and had now spiralled to a size where even students who’d never participated in the duelling themselves would attend every match just for a piece of the action.

Sebastian cast his eyes over the crowded room, a couple of overeager fourth years were stretching relishing that they’d made it this far in the tournament at all. A few Slytherin second-years in their pyjamas who looked very pleased with themselves for having managed to sneak out of the common room to watch the show were whispering huddled in the corner.

His eyes connected with hers across the far side of the room. She was leaning against the rickety balcony he suspected was only still standing due to magic embedded in the castle. She was smiling at him, the moon high in the sky illuminating her features bathing her in an ethereal glow. Despite the commotion in the tower, the nerves of competitors were so palpable Sebastian felt he could cut the tension with a knife she looked beautiful and serene. For a moment he considered doing away with the tournament and their wager all together and dragging her off to her secret hideaway opposite the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy.

Sebastian battled against the grain of the crowd towards her. Weasley tried to grab his attention and pull him into a conversation about some combat-enhancing potions he was brewing but Sebastian patted the redhead on the shoulder placatingly never letting his eyes leave hers.

She smiled up at him a devilish glint in her eye as he came to lean against the banister beside her.

“You know if you want to back out of the bet I’ve thought of some creative forfeits,” he nudged her arm. She rolled her eyes; at the smug look he knew was plastered over his face. But he liked the way the small smile played on her lips. Lips that if he had his way wrapped around his cock before the night was up.

“Not scared of losing are you, Sallow?”

“Oh, not at all,” he leaned in closer, wrapping a strand of her hair around his finger to push it behind her ear. The smell of mallowsweet that always clung to her hair and clothes invaded his senses only making him more impatient to have that scent coating his skin “Just giving you the chance to save your knees while you still can.” He whispered into her ear low enough that only she could hear, relishing in the way she licked her lips instinctively at the thought. Despite the cool night breeze that came in through the open sides of the tower Sebastian could feel the heat creeping up his neck. Just as he’d decided to sack off the duels entirely and drag her away Lucan’s voice sounded over the muddle of raised voices.

“Right that it - Bets are closed. Sallow. Prewitt. Duellists take your marks for preliminaries!”

“See you in the final,” she winked and pushed him towards the middle of the tower. The red-head was already waiting looking insufferably smug as ever. Despite Sebastian’s general disdain for Prewitt, he did often find it amusing how even though he’d never once bested him in a duel he could delude himself into thinking this time could be any different.

“This is my year, Sallow,” he called across from him taking an offensive stance.

“Sorry Prewitt, I have too much on the line to go easy on you tonight,” Sebastian replied not meeting the Gryffindor’s eyes instead turning slightly to wink at her.

***

It wasn’t fate that landed her opposite him in the final duel that night. Sebastian had been quietly confident when he’d made his wager with her that it would always come down to the two of them. As much as Lucan insisted that his matchups were done completely at random, and he’d never sully his reputation with such cheap tricks. Lucan also knew people liked a show of seeing their two best duellers face off against each other. Having them knock each other out in the first round, well that would be bad for business.

Sebastian was certain he could live a hundred lifetimes and still remember the way she moved. As if it was seared into his brain that first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. She was like a raging storm, and he was a lost ship being pulled out to sea. That ancient magic in her veins practically glowing like an azure snake crackled amongst her fingertips like the poised lightning of a vengeful god ready to send his sails and crew to a watery grave.

Their dance began. She still duelled as if she was some untamed wind whirling reactively and unrefined. Her wand lashing out from her fast like a whip, she cast with her whole body. The wand was not just a tool but a very extension of herself. Never one for fancy charms she sent a confringo towards him that singed the edges of his cloak and sent the crowd quickly leaping from their view around the railings as the curse hurtled towards them. She’d leave her left side fully exposed and just as fast as he’d send a curse flying in her direction, she’d pivot so quickly the vulnerability was lost in a flurry of robes and hair. He parried and struck with his wand missing his mark again and again as she moved like a knife through butter. As they twirled around the moving iron plates marked with stars, they used this new terrain to their advantage. Taking cover when the discs shifted blocking their opponent and their spells from view only to spring from the other side with curses of their own. Sweat glistened faintly on her brow, and a wide grin spread across her face that he knew was mirrored on his own.

His eyes met her across the devilish glint in her eyes practically stopping his heart for a moment. The rest of the world, the crowds slipped away and there was only her. Her fire, her perfect storm.

It took his brain a moment to right itself and realised he’d been hit, and he was now meeting her piercing gaze with his arse firmly on the floor. Her brow gleamed with sweat, hair tangled and wild, blazing with victory. A goddess of war, triumphant. And she was his.

As suddenly as they disappeared the crowds seemed to come flooding back in a riotous cheer as they surrounded her. Weasley slapped her on the back his face broken into a wide toothy grin. He peeled off from the crowd hand outstretched to assist Sebastian to his feet. He gratefully took it dusting himself off, chuckling to himself.

“Tough luck mate,” he smiled placatingly. “I would say there’s always next time but that was your last shot. I’m afraid you’re out of the history books now. I lost eight sickles betting on you as well.” He ran his fingers through his ginger hair frowning to himself stewing over his lost winnings.

Sebastian smiled at him apologetically despite the fact he couldn’t give two shits about Weasley’s shrapnel not when he had a debt of his own, one that he was eager to pay.

Sebastian leaned against the railings in wait for her. The crowd swarmed around her dragging her this way and that, chattering over each other each eager to get her ear. Some cheered some muttering reluctant congratulations looking away enviously as Lucan handed those who had bet on her their winnings. Not nearly as much as the house would take however as Lucan lined his pockets.

Sebastian was beginning to grow impatient, it felt like an eternity as he waited for the crowds to finally disperse. This earned him a few smirking looks, everyone thought he was embarrassed, and Hogwarts' self-proclaimed ‘best dueller’ had been bested yet again. He played the part of the good sport despite his growing frustration, laughing off the snide little barbs from the likes of the insatiably competitive Imelda and most shockingly even a mocking glare from old Puffskein Dunkein. The audacity of a man afraid of puffskein to look at him like that Sebastian almost laughed out loud.

When at last a pair of gushing fourth-year Hufflepuffs girls had finally left her side whispering and giggling as they left the tower to follow the rest of the crowd. Sebastian slipped up behind clearing his throat as she turned to him eyes bright with triumph.

“So…what was all that about saving my knees?”

“No need to show off, pet. It doesn’t suit you,” he grinned slowly encroaching in on her. The once deafening tower was now quiet and still. The only lights left were the soft moonlight and glowing stars. Sebastian thought if he listened hard enough, he could hear her heartbeat increase with every step he took towards her.

She released a loud undignified snort of laughter “That’s rich coming from you.”

Sebastian silenced her pressing his lips hard against hers in a desperate kiss that ignited a fire in his bones. With the pressure of NEWTs, he hadn’t realised how starving he was for her touch. He nipped at her bottom lip and she gasped parting her lips just enough so he could slip his tongue between them to tangle with her own. His hands ghosted down her sides wrapping around her so he could pull her flush against him. He knew she’d already be able to feel his already hardening length exposing exactly where his thoughts were as they pressed into her. He pulled away from her a little breathless, freckled hands coming up to clasp her cheeks.

“A debt is owed, pet. Ready to collect?”

“What now? Here?”

“Did I not mention it’s a time-sensitive offer?”

She huffed out a surprised laugh as she met his eyes. But he noticed that telltale way she bit down on the inside of her cheek, noted how even in the low light her pupils were blown wide as saucers. He kissed her again more passionately this time, edging her towards the small table in the corner covered in ripped-up betting slips from sore losers and broken astronomy equipment.

In his haste, Sebastian swept the papers and objects littering the table a telescope clattered to the floor with a loud metallic clang. He gripped her hips forcefully and lifted her to plant her on the edge of the desk. He kissed up the column of her throat savouring every rasping vibration against his lips as her breathing caught in her throat.

“You were excellent, darling. Thought you might actually finish me off,” he murmured against her skin as he loosened her tie around her neck as he had done his own. He could already see a flush creeping up her clavicle as he worked the buttons exposing more of the stained flesh beneath. Her skin was salty on his tongue but after a week of nothing but longing looks and stolen kisses it tasted like ambrosia. He pulled the offending garment from around her shoulders throwing it unceremoniously to the floor. He pulled at the ribbons letting her stays flutter open before pulling the thin silky chamise over her head. Her nipples pebbled fully exposed as the night air swept in through the tower, mussing her hair. He brought the crown between his teeth tongue flicking out to tease the flesh and she groaned. Her hand came to settle on her neglected left breast pinching the twin between her own fingers. Wickedly gorgeous a movement that he knew meant she ached as much for him this last week as he did her. He released her from his teeth and kissed her quickly. Grinning Sebastian ran his hands up her thighs fingers pressing hard into those sinfully tight trousers she wore.

He hooked his fingers into her waistband as she lifted her hips assisting him as he peels her trousers and knickers off of her legs. She wriggled her feet out of the bottom and Sebastian discarded them next to her shirt in a pile on the floor. Bare and laid out before him he cursed himself for ever letting her wear clothes at all.

Dropping to his knees Sebastian coaxed her legs apart by peppering kisses along the inside of her thighs. Pausing momentarily to nip and suck small bruises on the tender flesh as he worked up towards the apex of her thighs. He bent her knees up to rest them on either side of his shoulders, he pulled her hips sharply forward spreading her out before him like his last meal.

“Did you like seeing me on my back as much as you do between your thighs?” he goaded. Her lips parted to reply but all that came out was a low whine as Sebastian flicked his tongue across her bundle of nerves. Her hips jolted forward in search of reprieve. More pleasure only he could give to her. A pleasure he now owed her.

He dragged his tongue across her clit more purposefully this time. Her hands shot down to knot almost painfully in his hair, as he kept him close to her aching heat demanding the payment that was due. Sebastian was a lot of things; ruthless at worst, an insufferable show-off at best but he was not a sore loser. He sealed his mouth over her aching heat, burying her tongue in her folds.

The sight of her above him he doubted there was a more perfect sight in this world. She was bare and spread out like a nymph from some Greek tragedy and he was a mere disciple who had come to pray at her altar. He chased her sounds, swirling his tongue around her nub lapping up every drop she offered to him. He dragged his tongue across her weeping entrance, a broad stroke with the flat part of his tongue. From the way her legs had already begun to tremble, he knew she had been aching for this, for his touch just as much as he had. He always marvelled at how quickly she came undone when he used his tongue, but with how much he’d been driven practically mad with need all week he wanted to savour this. Every flash of skin, the sway of her hips, when she leaned in too close, and her scent seeped into his mind had him as pent up as he had been before they were together and all thought of her had been a mere albeit all-consuming fantasy. So, he wanted to take his time with her, use that control he had over her and bring her to the brink and back until she was a crumpled mess.

She writhed sinful curses and breathy moans slipping from her lips as she ground her hips forward seeking relief on the flat part of his tongue. He was teasing her he knew. Edging her closer and closer towards that summit of bliss and that wasn’t part of their deal. But after a week of nothing but stolen kisses and fumbles above their clothes in quiet classrooms and hidden alcoves, he wanted her to come crashing down when she was near breaking and begging for release.

Just as he felt her legs begin to clamp together practically suffocating him between her thighs he ceased his ministrations of his tongue, sucking small bruises on the inside of her thighs. Not that Sebastian thought suffocating between her thighs was a particularly bad way to go out. He released her clit switching between sinking his teeth into her soft skin before swiping the marks with his tongue.

“Seb- what the fuck?” she groaned in protest, she bucked her hips towards him practically at breaking point in need of her release. Her fingers smoothing his mop of chestnut hair he guessed now looked even more tangled and wild than usual as she desperately tried to pull him back towards her aching heat.

Sebastian released his grip on her thighs, skimming his fingers along the inside of her thighs leaving goosebumps in his wake before he slid his fingers into her tight heat. Her eyelashes fluttered as he teased her open with two freckled fingers. He crooked his fingers and grinned as her light panting transformed into keening mewls as he hit that sweet spot inside of her that made her crumble from the inside out. He knew it was cruel to make her wait, she had earnt her prize fair and square, but he’d been starving for her for all week, and he wanted to feel her come undone harder than he ever had. Even if it took all night. He pumped his digits slowly coaxing her towards the brink again with each purposeful thrust. She was practically vibrating, so dangerously close to the edge Sebastian thought he saw the ghosts of tears in her eyes as she writhed desperately.

“Sebastian, please. I can’t- Fuck,” she groaned desperately. Sebastian sealed his mouth over her clit and sucked - devouring the quivering nub.

The combination of sensations must practically set fire to all her nerves. Even if no one had heard the unsanctioned duelling tournament he still wouldn’t be surprised if they heard her now. The loud unabashed cry that she released as her earth shattered even her legs clamped around his ears did little to muffle her glorious sounds. Despite his own need twitching almost painfully in his trousers at the sight of her shuddering release; all Sebastian cared about was prolonging her bliss. He lapped purposefully at her swollen flesh as she rode his fingers forcing her hips down onto them. Each thrust is more forceful than the last. He’d gladly let her wake the whole castle with her strangled cries. Let them all hear the pretty sounds the Hero of Hogwarts only made for him.

Her legs at last went boneless panting hard as she collapsed back on her elbows. Her head lolled helplessly to the side as she gazed at him through hooded eyes of admiration and desire. She looked practically drunk at the sight of him still buried between her legs.

“My congratulations to the victor,” he said smugly. Licking the residual wetness that still coated his lips as he at last removed his fingers from her tight heat. His tongue laved at the bruises he sucked on the inside of her thighs soothing their ache. He travelled up her pausing only to run his nose through the sparse hairs at the apex of her thighs which made her groan again as his heated breath tickled her still-sensitive nub. Impatient at his torturous pursuit up her body her hands clasped his freckled cheeks to pull him towards her. She claimed his lips not caring to wipe his mouth. She nipped greedily at his bottom lip her tongue flicking out to meet his won as she tasted the need her body had for him still sweet on his lips.

Her hands ghosted across his hipbones that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The scratch of her fingernails had Sebastian’s hips instinctively jerked towards her. Chasing his own need for release rutting forward his still-clothed member twitching against her exposed heat. She captured the grunt he released with her lips her deft fingers frantically working the buckle of his belt. He encircled her wrists with a large hand stopping her pursuit.

“Ah- Ah. You won fair and square. No need for that,” he grinned. He could practically feel his own body cursing the part of his mind that wasn’t completely overcome with desire for the witch spread out before him and was still capable of rational thought. He focused on the need his cock had to claim her into his lips fastening his teeth over her fluttering pulse.

“Don’t make me beg,” she groaned. With the little room she had to move her hands in his grip she pulled him forward by his belt loops more forcefully until his hips were flushed against her. Even through his trousers, he could feel the heat from between her thighs that made his cock twitch demandingly.

“But I so love it when you do.” His hands buried into her hair in a possessive grip to pepper kissed along her jaw.

“Shut up and fuck me already,” she practically growled, palming his cock through the fabric. Sebastian knew he would grant any request from her lips. Taking her hips in a bruising grip she yelped as her backside was pulled sharply over the edge of the rickety table. He didn’t let her fall instead letting her weight pass to him flipping her around so she could take a firm hold of the table and steady herself. She turned to look at him, her eyes hooded pupils blown wide biting so hard on her bottom lip he thought she might draw blood. To the world, she was a triumphant warrior, a heroine forged in fire and bloodshed but for him and only him in secret moments stolen under darkness and moonlight, she would shed that armour. And give herself to being his to claim and conquer.

Sebastian shucked his trousers down forcefully kicking them off from around his ankles. His cock sprang free of its prison, arching proudly in front of him. Sebastian swiped his fingers through her still soaking folds coating his fingers in her slick and his spit.

“Please Sebastian-” she whimpered at the contact, desperate to feel more than just his fingers inside her. He teased her kiss-swollen bottom lip down, pushing his digits roughly into her mouth. She closed her mouth greedily around his fingers languidly dragging her tongue to clean them off. Her pupils were blown wide as black as the night sky; he almost came completely undone just at the lusty look she was giving him. He could wait any longer to be inside her and feel her around him. Sebastian angled his hips and breached her walls with a strong deliberate thrust. She released a strangled cry her head lolled against her shoulder her desperation to finally be filled by him satiated.

“Fuck-” Sebastian hissed. He didn’t wait for her to adjust to him as he took her hip in a bruising grip thrusting his hips forward. Still tender and swollen from how he’d already made her quake her oversensitive walls fluttered around his cock as she took the entirety of him. As he rocked his hips into her Sebastian thought he could rename every star in the sky with the speed with which filthy moans and praise to him and everything he made her feel tumbled from her lips. Each is more wonderous than the last.

He hastily undid the remaining buttons on his shirt to admire his incessant plunges into her warmth. Only caring about how she practically swallowed him whole.

“Taking me so well,” he grunted, rough and low. Her spine curved at his praise drawing him in deeper. The head of his cock teased that sweet spot inside her. The more of her weight shifted backwards the more she arched towards him until she was flushed against him and rutting her hips back frantically in search of more friction. He slowed his pace to draw himself almost fully out of her before filling her again with a languid thrust. “Tell me how it feels darling.”

“Incredible. Fuck- I’ve needed you all week- inside me. Please Seb more,” she whimpered.

He wondered how many students dreamt of having her and how even they in all their wildest fantasies couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like to take her under the stars.

He pressed his forehead into her shoulder, wrapping his arm around her to settle on the curve of her stomach. Holding her in place so he could increase his tempo slamming home hard. Each thrust into her tight heat drew keening mewls as he edged her closer towards her second climax.

Sebastian could feel that coil inside him tightening threatening to snap. He wanted to feel her crash down around him. He didn’t just crave it. He needed it. Like a man lost in the desert and she was his oasis gulping down water greedily until he was sick with it. Sebastian curled his hand around her throat, squeezing just enough that a choked whine could still escape from her lips as her head began to spin. Each finger that pressed around her delicate neck said the words his sex-addled mind couldn’t make his mouth form.

Only I can make you feel like this. You are mine. I am yours. I love you.

He pulled her backwards harder onto his cock by her throat, spearing her with brutal efficiency. Curling his fingers tighter his other hand slipped down the planes of her stomach to apply soft pressure to her hooded bundle of nerves sending a shock through her like a burst of electricity. He could feel her body begin to clench and tremble around him in a way that was maddening. Whatever words she tried to speak came out as little more than a garbled cry over the grip around her delicate neck.

“Come for me, darling. Please- I can’t hold back any longer. I need to feel you come undone all over my cock,” Sebastian groaned into the shell of her ear as he began to tease furious circles over her still-swollen clit.

Sebastian doubted there was a more beautiful sight than the witch he loved unravelling under the full force of his fingers and his cock. Her walls clenched around him. Spasming and contracting as they sucked him in impossibly deeper into her cunt as she let out a shriek. With a final uneven snap of his hips that coil inside him snapped and his own release spilling inside her. His hips spluttered, pumping it deeper into her, her name and filthy praise erupting from his lips in a sound he could only liken to a primal whine.

Her body was flushed with a thin sheen of sweat that coated her glittering under the moonlight. His forehead came to rest between her shoulder blades he released his hold on her throat to wrap his arms around her as she struggled to stay upright on weakened trembling legs. He peppered soft apologetic kisses across the small bruises that were beginning to bloom around her throat. Still buried deep inside her his thumb stroking her nub gently, she whined and bucked her hips to try and shake off the overstimulation. She chuckled against her skin, and at last, releasing the small bundle of nerves she sighed with relief.

He removed himself from her aching core and she groaned at the loss of him inside her. As if she only felt whole when he was filling her completely. On shaking legs, he guided her over to rest gently on the edge of the desk again. He kissed her more gently now and she hummed against his lips. A pleasureful little sound that even despite being completely spent had him wondering if he could muster up the energy to take her again as his tongue flicked lazily out tangling with her own.

“I love you,” he smiled and she practically glowed. To him, she was brighter and more beautiful than any star that any astronomer could find in the farther reaches of the cosmos.

“You let me win, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mused, pushing her hair behind her ears absentmindedly.

“Either way the result was the same. You’ve been looking up at me from your back since you were fifteen,” she smiled slyly, her eyes twinkling with mirth. She bent down to scoop up her trousers before shimmying back into the tight material that he still had no idea how she got away with wearing the wildly inappropriate attire on the school grounds.

“Oh- You want a rematch? I’d be more than happy to take my winnings.”

“Oh, I’m sure you would be.”

“Care to make it more interesting?”

“I’m listening,” she grinned. His little witch had always been a thrill seeker, but their rematch was a contest he wasn’t willing to lose. He didn’t just want her mouth. He wanted her hand.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #Sebastian sallow x female reader #sebastian sallow x f!mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction

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codfanficedits · 6 months

Text

Final tribute

If you're looking for a sign to stay alive, this is it.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader

Summary: Suicide.

Wordcount: 4968| Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: SUICIDE, mentioning of self-harm, mentioning of shoplifting, mentioning of a fucked up childhood.

A/N: Today (third of November) marks the 9 years anniversary of my best friend killing herself. It has taken me years to come over the guilt, and even 9 years later I still wonder if I could've prevented this. But I couldn't and she is gone. In a way I hope she'll live forever through me and my stories. We were teenagers, having to cope with shit that adults couldn't even cope with. I love you and even though you'll always stay 19 you're still my best friend. Until we meet again. A/N 2: If you're struggling yourself. Please know that life will be worth it, the sun will shine on you too one day, and you'll find the joy in life once more. I've struggled with suicidality and sometimes I still do. But. It. gets. better. I promise.

The silence lingers in the air as he sits on the chair next to your bed. You’re sleeping, getting some much deserved rest, but he can’t help but be angry at you. Angry for attempting, angry for not sharing what was going through your mind, angry at the professionals, for just letting you go again. But his anger gets replaced by guilt as he watches you sleep. Because if you were to die, it would’ve been his fault, at least to Simon.

Except that it wasn’t his fault. You just weren’t made for life and you knew it. Depression had been weighing you down since your teenage years, following you like a ball and chain into adulthood. No matter how much you tried, how hard you tried to fight it, it was a losing battle. A cruel dance with fate. Simon’s eyes wander around the self-harm scars that cover your body, a reminder of your battle, a reminder of every time your mind won the battle against your will to live.

As Simon’s guilt deepens, tears fall from his eyes. You always used to tell him “a cry a deep keeps the demons away.” So, he cried. You had always used your humour as a shield to cope, as a shield to keep people out of the dark abyss of your mind. No one would suspect a thing if you just kept joking about it.

It was a painful realisation – the guilt, but also the truth in those words. It was what he missed most about you, your smile, your warmth, your kindness. He misses your wisdom the most. Maybe if he had tried to understand you more, none of this would be happening. His heart ached with regret and longing.

Simon felt lost. He remembered your humour, but he could never make the thoughts leave his head. How you were always so lively and funny, but had suffered in silence for so long.

This had worried you the most. Not the dying alone part, you had made peace with dying alone a long time ago. But the failing of your plan, and how it would hurt the people around you.

He knew you hadn’t meant to hurt him, but he didn’t think he could find the way to forgive you yet. As for himself, he felt he could never forgive himself for not noticing earlier. How close you had been to death. How far he had allowed this to go, without a single moment’s notice. Not that this would’ve changed anything for you, you would’ve done it either way. With or without him noticing. The depression that had been brewing in you for more than a decade was a ticking time bomb, being set off without anything mayor happening. But this had been a messy attempt, your mind too crowded to think properly, the pain of being alive too much to bear. So you had made mistakes, mistakes that caused your attempt to fail. Mistakes that would make you hate yourself even more. Mistakes that would be carved into your skin the moment you had the chance. Simon couldn't help but feel your attempts to hide your depression had been his fault. Had he not made you believe you had to? Or was this merely some cruel trick his mind was playing on itself? He wanted to hold your hand so badly, to feel your warmth, to tell you he loved you. But you were sleeping. His guilt consumed him. He began thinking of every moment you had been depressed, every instance he hadn't helped, every time he hadn't noticed a thing. But truth be told, you would never had let him help you, your depression had been weighing you down, pulling you under the surface while you desperately tried not to drown.

But drowning is a silent thing to do.

And you, you felt as if the whole world had to be carried on your shoulders. Professionals had failed you, and friends were not made to carry such a heavy load. So you carried it all by yourself, allowing yourself to slip under the surface of the water. Simon was terrified. The idea of you suffering in silence hurt him more than he ever imagined it would. He wanted to tell you how much you affected the lives of those around you. How he had looked up to you for your wisdom, your humour, your honesty. How you had brightened his days just by being there. He also wanted to say how sorry he was for not noticing your depression sooner. But you weren't awake. So he stayed beside your bed, waiting. Hoping. Praying that you would live.

The disappointment of being alive would wash over you soon enough, and you would have to live with that disappointment, a disappointment to yourself and your friend. Your eyes flutter as you begin to wake up, the sunlight burning through your closed eyelids, the pain you feel a reminder that you’re alive. But you don’t want to open your eyes. You can’t face reality, not yet. A wave of relief washed over Simon as he felt you stir. He was still angry, worried, confused, but he couldn't keep the smile from his face. He reached for your hand, wanting to hold on to the life he had thought he lost. Wanting to hold on to you. Wanting to let you know just how much you meant to him.

"Don't leave me again."

You can’t answer him, not yet. You have to deal with the disappointment of being alive first, before you can tend to him.

Fuck

How you wished you were dead, how you wished that you had succeeded, how you wished you had finally found your peace. You turn to your side, curling up as a ball, the sobs that leave your lips are raw, violent even. As if your soul got broken open and you can’t stop your feeling from pouring out. As Simon watched you curl up into a ball, his heart ached. He could feel your hurt, your anger, your pain, and wished he could take it away from you. And he felt you needed this, this release, this raw feeling. But he also understood how much you disliked your existence. How unfair this life had been to you. How many times you had been disappointed by it all. By other people, probably. But he hoped in the end, you would know how much he appreciated and cared for you. Your tears didn’t stop, by all means they just poured harder, more violent. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did you have to be alive? Your feelings turn into anger, angry at yourself for failing, for staying alive, angry at the universe for playing these cruel tricks. “Fuck, Simon.” You sob. “I can’t do this.” Simon felt his anger dissipate, replaced by worry. He couldn't see you this way. So hurt. So depressed. So angry at the world, at life. That anger had always been the first thing he thought of when he pictured you, but not like this. Not the world's anger. Your own. "Hey hey, it's alright." He sat down next to you. "We can get through this together. Just me and you, like always." And that was when, for a moment, he almost believed it.

But you can’t, you don’t want to. You had been trying to get through it, with him, without him. But you’re tired. Tired of trying not to drown when the world is pulling you under. So, so, so tired. “I don’t want to, Simon.” You whisper and your voice sounds tired, as if you’ve been up for days. “I can’t fight anymore.” "Stop." he whispered, his heart aching. This wasn't the reality he wanted to admit, but it was one that was hard to deny. "Please, can't you see how many people care about you? I'm not talking about friends and family, I'm talking about me. Don't you think seeing you like this hurts me?" He knew you were tired. He knew you wanted to just disappear from the world of pain and suffering. And so he tried one last time. "Don't disappoint me." You squeeze his hand, to the point that your own hand starts to hurt from the power. You could see the pain in his face. The pain you had caused. And the guilt hit you like a ton of bricks. You feel so selfish, like you always have been.

“I’m so sorry for putting you through this.” "Stop... stop apologizing." He felt you squeeze his hand, and took it as a sign of hope. Perhaps there was still a chance, even at your lowest, to fight for life. "I'm your friend. I'll always fight with you, even when you can't fight anymore. Especially then. Maybe we can learn how to fight this together." He hoped it wasn't too far gone. He didn't want to lose you to the darkness. But what would you do if it wasn’t apologizing? It was all you did. Apologizing for existing, apologizing for not being good enough, apologizing for being depressed. For being alive. You give his hand a softer squeeze. “Thank you, Simon.” You mumble. “Thank you for being here, and I’m sorry if I’ve let you down.” "You've never let me down," he whispered back. His eyes were soft, and his expression gentle. All the anger, guilt and disappointment had vanished. He was thinking of you, how hard you had tried — harder than most would. He knew this. He felt this. He couldn't blame you for wanting an escape. An escape he wished he could provide.

"Don't you see? You're the strongest person I know. You're the last person to need to apologize."

His words. No matter how kind they were. They didn't register. You understood them, they were words you could even tell to others. But those words weren't meant for you. Not to someone like you.

So you laid there, curled up in a ball, the disappointment of being alive weighing on you. But they were meant for you. They were for you. Because even when you felt broken, he saw you as strong. When you were tired, you were resilient.

"Let me come a little closer." Simon shifted closer, trying to place his hand on your arm. He wanted to hold on. He wanted to feel you. Your warmth, your touch, your comfort in his hand.

You were hurt, but he wanted to hold that warmth, hold on to you. Because it felt like a treasure to him.

"Rest," he told you. And he meant it; he wanted you to take a break. You were so tired, so full of self-destruction.

He stayed with you in that bed, even as he felt your strength slip away. He wouldn't leave you until he was sure you could fight back. You would fight back, and he would do whatever he could to help you, to make the world a more bearable place. To give the light inside your soul room to heal.

And so your first attempt ended like this. With Simon holding you.

But you were broken, broken beyond repair, and one attempt turned into two, turned into three. All while Simon's life just continued. His missions, his deployments. And there you were. Feeling like a burden again. Simon felt his heart sink with each attempt, his anger growing with each disappointment. It made him feel powerless, unable to help you get better. To show you how much the world needed you. How much he needed you. "Not again..." His voice trembled with tears, a look of desperation on his face. He wanted you to recover, but felt hopeless. He felt that maybe he had already failed you, but didn't dare think it. Because if there was a chance for you to survive... he wanted you to take it. It must've been exhausting for him too. Not knowing if a call from you was just to catch up, or if he would hear just sobs, and rambling about how you couldn't take it anymore. How he had spent hours and hours talking to you. Unable to cope with the guilt of something would've happened to you.

But he was only human, and humans can only take so much.

You look at your phone. Tears streaming down your face as you had called him. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing..." He sighed. "I can't take this anymore. You can't keep doing this. Can't keep hurting yourself, can't keep hurting others, can't keep hurting me."

He didn't want to shout, but for the first time his anger began to surface. He wanted to see you get better, but his hopes were dwindling. "Just... please." Simon was at a loss of words. "How can I make you feel better about all this? What do you need?"

His anger was justified. In your attempt to stay longer on this earth you were dragging him along your misery.

"I'm sorry!" You repeat again, as the tears roll down your cheeks. "I don't know Simon." You hated that you had called him, once again. He was on deployment, unable to help you.

"Can you let me go?"

Simon felt his stomach knot. "Absolutely not." He knew his anger could hurt you, but had to hold on to his hopes of saving you. Because he had promised himself he wouldn't let you escape like this.

"No. No way." He let his voice raise, his anger making him feel stronger. "I am not letting you go." He would not hurt you further, but he would also not let you give up. He had to try.

A decision was made.

And you took a deep, deep breath. "Right." You mutter. "I'm sorry, again."

You wipe away your tears. "I know you're busy. And I really don't want to bother you. But can we just talk? Talk about our time at high school?" "Always." Simon smiled softly as the knot in his stomach disappeared. He felt more hopeful now that he had gotten your attention, and felt his anger melt away. "You know you're never a bother. How I wish the only thing I had going on was to speak to you." He tried to joke, but his concern for you clouded his humour.

"Tell me the first thing that comes to mind. High school. Any memories."

A soft sigh left your lips. You could hear his concern. You could hear your heart crumble when he joked about all the things that were going on, and how you were just another add on to that pile. But you pushed it away. This phone call had to turn into a light one. One without more worries.

"Remember how we met?" You ask. "In our self-defence class. You were brand new and I was a black belt. We hit off immediately, and then it turned out we went to the same high school." A smile formed on your face. Better times.

"I remember us secretly smoking behind the building." You snicker. Simon's smile broadened, the memory coming back to him as if they were there a second ago.

"I've always wondered what would have happened if I didn't go to that class." The smile faded again, replaced by thoughtfulness, as Simon considered how different his life would have been. He likely would have never met you. "I wasn't as tough as you remember, I was just taller." He chuckled. "I remember my first day, and you told me about your past. And you asked me about my life — which I was very quiet about then. What else do you remember?" You can’t help but chuckle. "Yeah we definitely did some trauma bonding. Two people with a fucked up childhood."

You clear you throat. "I'm glad we both managed to escape our homelife."

At the mention of trauma bonding, the smile dropped from Simon's face. It was true, it was how you had bonded. And it was one of the worst ways to bond. But he knew you were still thinking about it, and didn't want to change the mood of the call. "Don't think about that," he said. "Come on now, we can't let a shitty childhood ruin our lives." He was one to talk. Running away at eighteen to join the military. You both knew that your childhood would haunt, till the end of times. But you dropped the subject. Not in the mood to ruin this phone call. "Yeah yeah." You mutter.

"I remember you sneaking out of school to shoplift a can of coke." You laugh. "I was so goddamn worried you'd get caught." "Not as worried as me." Simon laughed. "I didn't get caught, though. So my criminal record is still clean... for now." "Although it is a miracle you never got caught. I don't think I've paid for a single can of coke in my last year of high school, thanks to you."

Simon felt his spirits lift, as he recalled all the stolen sodas you and him had split. It had gotten harder to sneak them in as you went up the year grades, but you had enjoyed those stolen moments of sweetness together.

For a few moments, it was as if you were still in those high school halls. Stealing drinks, telling each other about your past, and trying to escape your family life by spending all your time together. But now you were far apart, and there were other problems in your lives. Life had changed. "God. We were idiots." You sighed. "The amount of times we skipped school just to hang in the park and smoke."

"I still don't get how we graduated." You add with a smile, the phone call was helping to take your mind off things.

"We were almost too late for our math final." "We were extremely late for our maths final," he corrected. "But it got us through, didn't it?" He chuckled nervously, thinking of how close you came on several occasions to being kicked out.

"We weren't idiots. Life was just hard." He sighed, his eyes growing softer with each word, "We just needed to find ways to escape. And somehow, we made it." He knew you were feeling better, and thought for a moment. Perhaps he did want to push you a bit, to help you heal.

Of course you remembered, life had been hard for the both of you, yet somehow he had managed better.

"Somehow we made it." You repeat. "Thanks for staying on the phone with me, Simon. I know you're busy, and I'm feeling better right now. I'll keep you updated through text, okay?" "The day you don't call me on your lowest is the day you stop being my friend." Simon tried to joke. He wanted to lighten the mood, but also make you feel wanted. It was important to him that you did not feel like a burden.

"And don't apologize. Your emotions are the most important to me... don't push them away. I just wish I could be there to hold you through it all."

"You don't have to rush." Simon added, a sense of finality to his words.

"You staying on that call meant more than you'll realise." You said. "I'll text you soon okay? Take care Simon."

You ended the call, with a soft smile. Outgoing call: 57 minutes and 26 seconds. It did you more good than you had expected.

Simon sighed. Although it had been a long call, it felt like it had gone by in a flash. He kept thinking about that joke he made, about the day you stopped calling him on your worst days. And how he didn't want that day to ever come.

He knew you had been hurt too much in your life, so he was happy to keep being with you. To keep talking, to keep lifting you up again. He thought he had succeeded, too. Maybe you wouldn't try to hurt yourself again.

"I'll talk to you later." He muttered to himself.

You did feel better. Your house got cleaner, you started going out more. No longer calling in sick to your job that often.

You snapped a pick of a sunrise, sending it to Simon. "Made me think of you." You texted before you went on with your day. A little check in to let him know you were okay. He smiled as he read the message, feeling his heart lift as he read it. It was more than just a little message to Simon. It was what he needed to see, to know you were recovering, and happy. To know that all of the time and effort he put into helping you was paying off. He wanted to tell you right now that he was proud of you, that he was happy for you. But maybe you didn't need that yet. So, he kept it to himself for now. He responded with a simple "Thanks" message.

You did it every day. Usually in the morning. Sunrises. A flower. A dog. Anything that made you happy. And he usually responded with a "Thanks." But that was enough for now.

Your therapist applauded it, and that made you happy too.

You crouched down during one of your walks. Making a picture of one of the first fungi you had spotted during her walk. You send the picture to Simon.

"First one! When is your next deployment?"

Simon was glad for the daily pictures, and did his best to keep it up. He wanted you to feel like you were important to him, so he had to try and be more attentive to your messages. He stopped in the hallway as he read your latest message.

"Uh, this weekend. For three weeks." He texted.

He wondered if he should say more, but did not want to overwhelm you. He was happy already. You were alive, and looking at flowers and fungi. You were feeling better.

Ah. Three weeks. You knew he didn't have any service while deployed. Something with safety and all that. But you didn't mind. The cold November air hit your face, and it made you feel alive. You took a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill your lungs.

"That sucks :(. I'll keep sending you the nice things I find on walks, even if you can't see them right away." You texted back.

Simon was glad you understood, and didn't want you to think he didn't care. He tried not to think about the length of the deployment, or the fact that he would likely not be able to talk to you for three weeks. But it didn't matter, because you were recovering.

"Send whatever photos you want, I won't be able to respond, but I will love looking at them." He texted. "Three weeks go by faster than you'd think. I'll be home before you know it."

You did the math. He would be gone on the first of November. And he would be back around the 22nd.

"Do you think you'll be home for Christmas? It’s been a while since we celebrated together." You texted him back.

Your text felt like a punch to the gut. It was true, it had been a while since you had celebrated Christmas together. Your last Christmas together had been two years ago, and it had been an awkward one at that.

Simon tried to put on a brave face. "I'm going to try." He texted. "If I'm lucky, I'll be back late December... maybe even early." He wondered if you would take these answers well, or if he had just made things worse.

"That's great. We'll work the details out when you're back from deployment, no worries." You texted back. There was a light spring in your step as you walked to your job. As if the weight of the world had fallen off your shoulders. "I'll text you tomorrow before you leave for your mission :)"

"Sounds good." Simon was glad to see you in high spirits again. "Talk to you soon."

You and Simon continued to exchange photos for the remainder of the week. He sent you images of training exercises, and you sent him photos of birds, and flowers. It was the highlight of both your days. On Saturday morning, the day before Simon was to depart for the mission, he sent you a voice message. He was standing in his room, as he talked.

"Hey. How are you today?" Some days you just exchanged pictures. The others you had whole conversations. But that was okay, you understood he was busy, and you didn't need his attention all of the time. You smiled when you got his voice message, it was nice to hear his voice again.

"Simon! I'm good, best I've been in a while." You answered through a voice message. "How are you? What time are you leaving?"

"I'm glad." That was always Simon's response, when he heard you were doing 'well.' He had grown to love seeing your photos, and the few conversation you had together throughout the week kept him going. He sounded excited when he spoke, and you could hear a little of the anticipation in his voice.

"Leaving in 20 minutes." He sent. "I'm feeling pretty good, to be honest. A little nervous, but I'm looking forward to the mission."

"You're a good soldier, Simon." You responded through your voice message. "Those three weeks will be over in no time, and when you're back we can go plan Christmas. In the meantime. I'll send you my daily pictures, so you have something to look at when you get back." You added in another voice message

Simon smiled when he heard you call him a good soldier. It felt nice, to be recognized. And to be seen.

He sent back one message that simply said, "Thanks."

He got ready for the mission, grabbing his gear and getting into his squad vehicle.

As he drove in quiet, he thought about planning Christmas. It felt nice, looking forward to things. Maybe you and him could go on a little trip, or do something fun together.

He was optimistic, and couldn't wait for the next three weeks to be over.

On November first you send him a picture of a sunset.

"Reminds me of you. I miss you :)"

But you got no answer, knowing he was out in a mission and had no reception.

On November second you send him a picture of a dandelion, a cat, and the moon.

"Even though we're apart we're looking at the same moon."

And again you got no answer, but you knew he had no reception.

On November third you send him a selfie, a smile on your face.

"I will miss you Simon. Take care. I will always love you. You've been a great friend. You've been my best friend."

On November third you put your phone back on your desk before you left your home. The walk to the train station was short. You had led them all on, but it was your time to leave.

You had held on to life as long as you could. But you were done. You were tired. You couldn't live another day, but at least he would have some good memories of you.

"I'm sorry." You mutter as you saw the train approaching.

One deep breath.

You and Simon always had a habit of sending photos to each other. Especially of the sky. Simon felt a sinking feeling come over him as he saw your last pictures. It was a beautiful sunset, but the words you chose had taken away much of its beauty.

"God damn..." He whispered as he read your message. "Is this what I think it is?" He started getting a thousand thoughts at once, all flooding through his brain.

What could he have done?

Should he have said something different?

You were going to be okay. You were getting better.

Nothing. Nothing could've been done. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't the fault of your therapist. No one was at fault.

Some people just weren't made to grow old, and you were one of them. Your depression had haunted you and had finally taken you to the dark abyss. You were finally at peace.

Simon tried to push away the thoughts of all you were going to miss. All of the life you were going to miss. He could not believe it. He simply couldn't. The person he tried to cheer up, was gone. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault... He kept repeating that to himself, but deep inside he knew that had always been true. He had done all he could. All he had been able to. And that would never be enough to make you stay. Simon's eyes were growing red, but he tried to keep himself strong. It had only been hours after you died, and he was already questioning everything.

"I'll remember you." He said, to no one. He thought of all of the times he tried to help you, the pictures you sent him. The jokes. the little conversations you shared. He couldn't believe it. Simon tried to dial you, to call you, to call for an answer. But he knew that there was nothing he could do now. Nothing but hope that heaven was real. Nothing but hope that he would see you again. Nothing but hope that this was all a horrible joke, a sick nightmare.

The photos of the sunset, the cat, the moon, all lay in front of him. They looked like a cruel joke. Like reality's cruellest and sickest joke of all.

You weren't supposed to end.

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paxaz535 · 23 days

Text

okay this is something i wrote on my wattpad , nothing too serious.

Lethal Basketball Mom

Paige x Black!FemReader

____

______

you walked into the stadium, this would be your first time going against UConn with this team. you also felt like this would be your last time playing with this team as well.

the school wasn't bad, not at all. the coach? a totally different story. she's just overall a bad person. she would always push you too hard, even when you begged her to stop.

"I don't care! Keep running, Katz!"

"But coach! i've been doing suicides for the last 15-"

"I don't care! say something else and i'll add on another 10!"

you were getting sick of her obvious favoritism towards the rest of the team. she knew you were the best, that's why she pushed you so hard. her daughter was number one before you came, and when you did, her and the coach got upset about that.

so you always had to suffer.

you and your team were warming up, UConn players on the opposite side. they were good, great even. you thought this was going to be tuff sensing the fact that you'll be carrying your team the whole time.

you couldn't help but take a longer glance towards the paige bueckers. she was a sight to see, she had in her signature two braids into a ponytail.

you took a quick glance at every one else, that team looked like the best ever. they were laughing and just looked like they were having a good time.

you were still grateful, but you told your parents plenty of times you did not want to be on this team. they didn't listen because they went to this college and so they want you to follow their footsteps, although it's not about them, it's about you.

"Y/n! go get the water bottles from out the locker room!" you looked at her with a crazed look. "that's not my job, coach. Ms. Sasha is right there." you told her, trying to stay respectful as possible.

she crossed her arms, you just sighed and went to get the bottles. you didn't notice but a pair of eyes followed you.

(heads up, it wasn't paige 🤫)

when you came back it was time to actually start the game. you were excited, nervous and kind of scared.

"alright ladies, it's time to show up and show out. we all know how amazing UConn is but we got this. y/n, don't try to out shine anyone, especially my baby. let's go!"

the starting 10 players got into the floor, you and nika were doing jump ball, the ref threw it up and luckily you smacked it over to one of your teammates.

they knew to pass it right back to you, so you had the ball and dribbled it and made the shot.

"Y/N KATZ!!"

as paige started coming towards your side of the court, you were ready to guard her. she was a tough one to guard, but you didn't give up. she got passed you and passed the ball towards azzi and azzi made that perfect three.

"THREEEEE AZZIIIIII FUDDD!!"

you sighed but gained focus again once the coach's daughter, Angelica, passed the ball towards you. too hard. you almost lost control of the ball, you quickly looked at her but made your way down the court.

you passed it to your teammate who made an opening and shot an 3. you patted her on the back and ran back to your side of the court.

1stQ, H: 22, I: 21

2Q, H: 50, I: 51

it was now half time and you were up by one point. were you excited? yes but you couldn't get too happy. the huskies will make a comeback, that's what they're known for.

you were drinking from your water bottle and notice that coach, ms sasha, and angelica was missing. you walked out the locker room but noticed three bodies standing in the hallway. you backed up, eavesdropping.

"do you guys think this is a good idea? i mean having a great player should be a good thing." ms sasha asked, you can hear coach scoff.

"hell no, she's not gonna ruin my baby chances of getting drafted in a few years. we need her out." your heart dropped, they were talking about you.

"i agree, ms sasha. she needs to be gone, she's gonna ruin things for me. so ma, what's the plan?" angelica asked. plan?

"you're gonna injure her. make it hurt but don't make it noticeable that you're injuring her." your mouth dropped, what the actual fuck?

"try and trip her but make it look accidental. rough her up, you know?" coach told angelica. angelica smiled, "bet."

how could they do this? you were such an innocent person, you didn't deserve what was coming for you.

"ladies, let's talk about this-" "no, sasha. this is final. now, let's go before someone notices we're gone."

you quickly backed away, now you were scared. you couldn't tell anyone, so it's like you have to let yourself get injured. you just took deep breaths. half time was almost over.

"alrighttt, we're back and ready to play these last 20 minutes of the game."

everyone walked back out and got back into their places. the ref blew the whistle and the game started. a teammate passed the ball to you, you were quick to dribble and get to your side to shoot but angelica ran into you.

you fell, "oh shit, my bad." she lied, then proceeded to help you up. the ball went out of bounds to it was on the huskies. you could feel your ankle starting to hurt but you just ignored it.

the huskies got a three which made their team get to 53, you still at 51. it was your ball so you passed it to a teammate, ran up by them and got the ball back. you made the three and got the points.

you felt a smack on your butt, knowing it was a teammate. as you were running towards the other side, you felt a push on your back. it wasn't so friendly, you turned around wondering who did that just to see angelica.

you looked at her confused, she just ignored you and focused on the game. the fuck?

you shook it off, not wanting to cause a problem on the court with an off-court situation. you continued on playing, you already know what angelica plan was, you tried your best not to let it get to you.

nika made a shot and got them two points.

55-54

one of your teammates had the ball, and you were open. but angelica were also open, so she didn't know who to pass it to. you kept telling her to pass it to you but she was still confused.

it was taking up our shot time, before the shot time could hit 10, angelica shoved me which made her the only option to pass it to. you fell to the ground with a hard thump.

"Ow.." you held your arm in pain. you fell on it the wrong way, the ref blew the whistle. when a teammate helped you up, you quickly shot a glare towards angelica.

she put her hands up in surrender, a small smirk on her face. you were about to say something but one of your teammates beat you to it.

"we cannot kept wasting time y'all, get it together. angelica and y/n, start communicating more. let's go." you all patted each other on the back, getting back into position.

you glared at her one more time before playing these last two minutes of the third quarter.

3Q, H: 62 I: 59

it was the last quarter, this could go either way. you were nervous, annoyed and exhausted. you've been playing the whole 40 minutes and half of the time was getting pushed around by your own teammate.

the ball was in UConn possession, Kk was running towards the hoop but you stole the ball, it was an easy point since half the girls was still on the opposite side.

62-61

paige passed the ball towards nika, nika running up the court and passed the ball to aubrey. aubrey looked to see who she could pass it to, azzi was trying to get open but you were guarding her.

aubrey managed to pass it to azzi and azzi made an open 3. you cursed to yourself and got the ball passed towards you.

65-61

7:15

seven minutes left, you thought. you could easily catch up, and if you couldn't, you could at least tie with them.

68-66

5:10

fuck.. this is getting too intense. everyone was out of their seats, waiting to see what happens. your heart starting beating faster and faster.

you ran as fast as you could, seeing that Kk was about to make a shot but you managed to block it. the Idaho part of the crowd went wild and was cheering you on. you successfully made the shot.

68-68

2:09

you were tied, that was your goal. now it's time to get ahead. you passed the ball to a teammate but she didn't catch it, making paige quickly take it and make a three.

70-68

1:59

angelica managed to get the ball and started running down the court. you were close to the hoop so you opened up so she could pass you the ball.

1:30

"me! i'm open!" you yelled, she purposely ignored you and passed it to one of your other teammates who wasn't even open. luckily, she got it the ball and made two points.

you shook your head, are you really that dumb, angelica?

70-70

56.9 seconds

the ball was obviously in UConn's possession and they managed to get across you, fast. paige passed it to aubrey, aubrey going in for the three.

73-70

20.1 seconds

you had the ball now, quickly dribbling and doing good foot work. you managed to get pass azzi and pass the ball to a teammate. you ran to get an opening.

10 seconds

you felt angelica run behind you and bumped you a bit, you ignored it. you literally have ten seconds left on the clock, you did not have the time.

sadly, paige stole the ball from your teammate and managed to make another three.

0.0 seconds

final: 76-70

You walked away, defeated. as you were walking, you angrily grabbed your water bottle, walking into the main/front area of the stadium. your ankle started swelling up, you were playing on it so much.

"damn." you checked it out to see it getting bigger. you then heard footsteps behind you. "why'd you walk off like that? it's your fault we lost!" angelica yelled, her mom right by her side.

what?

you quickly turned around, a crazed look on. "I'M the reason we lost? Angelica, you literally sabotaged me the whole second half! my ankle is bruising!" you yelled, tired of their bullshit. you can see coach quickly step up, "don't yell at her like that! she isn't lying you know. you should've been more careful and communicated more!" she started to yell as well.

you were getting emotional. you heard more footsteps come towards you three but you didn't check to look who is was, too busy looking at coach. you sighed, "you cannot be serious right now, coach!"

"i'm serious as can be, you made us look embarrassing out there, i thought I taught you better!" she was flying her hands all around, angelica nodding along to what her mom was saying.

"taught me better!? don't act like I didn't hear what you guys were talking about in the locker room!" you called them out, you can see Angelica eyes go wide but quickly went back to normal.

"we have no idea what you're talking about." angelica spoke, coach nodding along. you chuckled audibly, "oh so, 'you're gonna injure her. make it hurt but don't make it noticeable.' just doesn't exist? does that ring a bell? huh!? you guys purposely did this to me. now my ankles completely fucked up and I-"

"watch your mouth around me, young one. don't forget who you're playing for." she sternly spoke, angelica just smirking. you looked at them two, hurt, anger, sadness all in one look.

you shook your head and sat back down in your chair, your ankle cramping up again. "you know what? i'm done. i'm tired of being treated like this, ive put up with enough. good luck finding a better player than me because I quit!" you yelled, tears pouring down your face.

coach glared at you with the meanest glare she could probably ever muster. "go ahead. we don't need you anyways. let's go, angel." she grabbed angelica's shoulder and they walked away but not before angelica chuckles at you.

you looked ahead, no emotion on your face but tears still coming down. you still didn't notice anyone watching until you heard a voice.

"Y/n, is it?" a deep voice spoke. you looked over , confused. you saw Geno, Paige, Azzi and Nika all standing beside of you. you looked at all of them before nodding your head, looking down at your ankle.

"you played really good out there, incredible-" "you don't have to lie to me, coach Geno. you heard her, i embarrassed the-" "you did anything but embarrass the team. phenomenal work out there, katz." you looked up at him, hearing this from the geno auriemma made you feel something you never felt.

it made you feel safe. you see paige, azzi, and nika nodding along with him. "that block you did against Kk? amazing." paige spoke, everyone nodded. "you really think so?" you asked, you wiped your tears off your face.

"yes. don't let her tear you down, she's just mad you're her best player and her daughter isn't." azzi shrugged, nika chuckled. you did as well, you could still feel paige's eyes on you.

"how would you like to join us?" geno had his arm crossed, waiting for you to respond.

you were shocked, "w- what?" he nodded, "you deserve to be a huskie. you have that mentality, i could just tell. here, take this. contact me when you're ready to enter the transfer portal."

you took the little card, looked at it and looked back at Geno. "Thank you, really." you smiled at him, he grinned a bit, "don't worry about it. I'll be waiting for that call. see you around, Katz." He walked off, azzi and nika following him but not before speaking.

"see ya, y/n." azzi spoke, nika nodded her head and they both followed geno. paige stood there, still looking at you. you started to get butterflies, as you two kept eye contact.

"i guess i'll be seeing you around, katz." she spoke, a slight smirk on her face. you smirked back, she had her hand out waiting for you to shake. "maybe, beuckers, maybe." you shook her hand, she smiled bigger.

you giggled a bit, she waved and walked away, going back to her team. "good job, by the way." you called out to her, she turned back around. "yea, you too."

she left and you looked back down at the card. should you really be doing this?

fuck yes you should.

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers #uconn women’s basketball #basketball #this is what makes us girls #uconn huskies #azzi fudd #final four

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geekyarmorel · 4 months

Note

Your angst anon here but I come with a silly(stupid actually if u think about it) idea this time! Reader being abducted by MM so now she has to work under her helping with experiments, etc. MM seeing that reader has been on a good behavior decided to reward reader and goes, like, "you have a choice, pick something... within reason". Poor reader being her sleepdeprived self and with questionable life choices/morals answers that she wants to do MM's makeup... chaos ensues. Make it awkward, make it tense! MM thinking she's finally broken the girl into insanity but it's just reader being fascinated by all that is MM!

Hey! I love the prompt, sorry it took a while to get to. My writing capacity has suffered while I've been dealing with my festive anxiety this time of year. Anyway enjoy!

Insane for You (Crazy for you)

Mother Miranda x Reader

You were going insane, or rather yet, you were already insane. You're unsure of what caused you to blurt out that for a reward you wanted to do her makeup. But there's no taking it back now. The pseudo mother who is a rather brilliant and somewhat dubious scientist stood staring at you, a look of shock on her face for a moment before her brows furrowed as she looked over you.

Her face smooths out and with a very slight nod she speaks. "Very well. Tomorrow I'll let you do my makeup. You're dismissed for the day."

You can't believe what you just heard and it takes a minute for it to sink in. She turns and goes back over to her desk, her piercing eyes locking on yours again. "I said dismissed."

"Right, of course, sorry." You say quickly, removing your coat and hurrying out of the lab. Once you got back to your room you sink down to the floor as you try to gather your thoughts. You were possibly a crazy person who literally asked to do the villages deity's makeup as a reward for doing good work for said woman. "What the actual fuck." You whisper before burying your face into your hands, what had you gotten yourself into.

Of course your mouth would speak before your brain had a chance to catch it. Wanting nothing more than to spend time with her, to get just a tiny bit closer to her than you've been. Because let's face it, you were head over heels for her. You hoarded the time you spent together, collecting the small signs of familiarity that she gave. Like the slight nod she gave when you did something right or beneficial to her, or the quiet 'thank you' when you took her the warm supper you cooked for her, or perhaps the way she hovered next to you while you both worked now instead of staying far away from you.

And your big stupid brain and mouth has possibly just ruined things for you. What if you didn't do her makeup right? What if she hated it and then hated you? You shuddered at the thought, no thank you. You've seen what happens when you get on her bad side, it's scary AF and you weren't going to let yourself go down that road.

With a sigh you get up and pick up the book you had been reading but the pages held no interest to you. After the third attempt to read the same page you gave up. Instead you made your way to the kitchen, preparing supper a bit early but cooking always gave you a sense of peace. It doesn't take long before the kitchen is filled with the aroma of food cooking, you humming softly while you stir.

Once dinner is ready you fix a plate for yourself and left it on the counter while you took down Miranda's plate to the lab. She was at her desk, scribbling down some notes. You placed the dish to the side of her and get a small "Thank you."

"You're welcome." You stand for just a minute and it causes her to look at you. "I'm sorry for asking to do your makeup. I know it can be kind of an intimate thing and I don't want to overstep. It was just a stupid thing my mouth said before my brain could catch up."

Her piercing blue eyes stare at you for the longest time, her face in her resting bitch face position. "Do you really think I'm that repulsive? That you don't want to touch me?"

Your mouth dropped open and she turned back to her work. She thought you find her repulsive?? "What?! No! I-"

"I have seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking." She cuts you off, the grip on her pen tightening. "You let me get closer to you, let me work beside you. I thought that was progress."

"I-"

"Leave." Her words turned clipped and cold.

"No." You can't leave her thinking that you find her repulsive. "I don't find you repulsive! I have never thought that once, honestly. I look at you like that because I want to be closer to you, because I'm head over heels for you. I want to do your makeup because I want to be closer, I want to be able to reach out and touch you. But I didn't want to overstep and ruin what we've gotten." The words sort of rush out from you. "I like you Miranda, I really do."

It seemed like that lab had fallen completely silent at your words. A moment passes before she puts down her pen and rises to stand in front of you. Her hand comes and slips up your neck and pulls you close, her lips pressing against yours. They were soft and warm, and your hands reached out to pull her close against you while you kissed back wholeheartedly.

Miranda pulls back when she needs to gather her breath. "You will be doing my makeup tomorrow and we'll be having dinner together." She declares before pulling you close again for a few more kisses. "Now come on." She reaches for the plate you had set down.

"Yes ma'am." And you happily follow her out of the lab.

"Hold still."

"You're attacking my eyelashes with that mascara." She protest and gives you a sharp look.

"I'm putting a second coat on to make your lashes look fuller. Relax or I'm going to jab you with the wand."

"Try that and it won't go well for you."

"I could always kiss away the hurt." You supply with a smile. You receive a soft smile in return.

"True." Miranda stills and let's you carefully apply the mascara. You finish her makeup with a soft pink lipstick, handing her the compact so she could assess the look. "You did well."

"Thank you." You say, taking the little mirror back and casting a look at your own reflection. The purple and red hickies stuck out against your skin. "Do you think concealer would cover these?"

"You will not be covering them." Miranda says pushing your hand away so she may lean forward and press a few more biting kisses to your neck.

"Stop you'll ruin your lipstick!" You say with a delighted chuckle, playfully squirming.

"It's not the only thing I'll ruin today."

"Miranda!"

#mother miranda re8 #re8 mother miranda #resident evil mother miranda #mother miranda #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda×reader #geeky got an ask #geeky answers #geeky writes

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nanomooselet · 3 months

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Little but Fierce

Now, I might be mistaken, but judging by the number of bare pectoral muscles strewn over my dash at any given moment, I'm gonna say Wolfwood is pretty popular? And that's understandable (he's a loser <3) but it's a genuinely terrible shame that Meryl gets overlooked. Especially in Stampede. Orange have done some really amazingly cool things with Meryl.

And it makes me a little nervous to say so, but I think they only could have done them by detaching her from Milly, at least for a time. Milly's still going to show up and I'm confident from this precedent they'll treat her well, so I'm at peace with her absence for now.

Nightow is unexpectedly good in many ways. He treats sex workers as human, which is a low bar that many nevertheless fail to clear, and my only serious disappointment in Maximum was in how the girls vanished for long periods. I recall an interview where he said something to the effect of being reluctant to put them in harm's way, and while I'm disinclined to take anything Nightow says entirely at face value (I don't think he's a liar, but I do think he has a sense of humour that inclines him to kindly trolling, which I respect), that would line up, I think.

I think Orange are taking the opportunity to remedy this disappointment.

It's exciting. It's the kind of writing for female characters in genre media I've always craved. I will not be silenced on how extremely gay I am for Meryl Stryfe.

Unfortunately that means for this first entry, I'll have to talk about Knives. (Whom I also love, but not in a gay way. More an affectionate revulsion. He's fascinatingly horrible, this man.)

So. I've noticed a distressing tendency for Knives's... really almost anything that ever comes out of his mouth (seriously) to be taken as the honest, objective truth. After all, they didn't call him a villain.

And what an honest face he has!

As Knives has it:

Vash is pretty, but he's useless without his brother. He's a powerless, weak, pathetically naïve, blubberingly sentimental little baby who doesn't care about the Plants, too busy enabling humanity's abuse via performing his cringing, grasping abasement before them to notice how his brethren suffer. Knives himself is the more powerful (and much less human-like) of the twins; the strongest and most righteous activist for necessary change now that, sadly despite all good faith attempts at communication, non-violent solutions have failed. He truly has only the best and most altruistic intentions: the freedom of his people, and the happiness of his brother.

Here's the problem. This has always been the problem. Every one of the statements in the paragraph above is false. Except the one about Vash being pretty.

Once more with feeling: They are completely untrue. They are supported by literally nothing. All we have is his word that they're true and there's so much existing evidence to disprove his claims that even the thought of compiling it exhausts me.

However, I did say that Zazie is a truth-teller in this story, didn't I? So let's examine some of Zazie's conclusions.

Now, I've seen reference to the surviving human communities on No Man's Land as "colonisers", and that their treatment of the Plants even before the Fall is analogous to slavery. (My strong suspicion is that Knives is purposefully invoking those comparisons, in fact.) Those are both extremely loaded analogies, culturally and emotionally, and I just want to gently, respectfully caution those who make them against overlooking the more nuanced and purposeful analogies being made. Or maybe should I say, the actual individuals to whom they apply.

Zazie is very careful to say this: Knives told them humans can't be trusted to learn from consuming their home planet. Knives was the one who said humans will have Zazie's planet next, and that only Knives will "use" the Plants correctly - so Zazie should ally with Knives.

Here's what Knives meant by "using the Plants correctly":

I, uh, think Zazie may have made the wrong call on this one! And that Zazie thinks the same.

This is what makes the interaction with Wolfwood so funny and sad - the all-knowing, ostensibly unkillable Zazie is freaking the hell out, staggering under the weight of realising just how apocalyptically badly they have fucked up. Wolfwood, who also directly instigated this disaster but under duress, is grimly amused - he did everything he did fulfilling the contract to protect the kids, even as his conviction failed, even though he would rather have died, even after Livio... and thus he personally rendered all his own efforts and sacrifices moot.

And he's just like, "Heh, yeah. That tracks." This poor boy.

Afterwards, Zazie is confused and even a little saddened that Vash was demonised in the wake of July's destruction. Never let it be said the bug fails to learn from experience: Vash is the one everyone blames? Ah, so he was in fact spectacularly heroic and clever and it's entirely Knives's fault it turned out so badly.

Also, crashing on this specific planet wasn't exactly humanity's choice. Guess whose choice it was.

Go on, guess. Better yet, guess why.

Yeah. It was also Knives who said to Zazie that both he and Vash crashed the ships... trying to stop us. From doing exactly what Knives tried to do the very instant he got the chance.

The thing is, Knives does everything he can to look like he's right by positioning himself as the most authoritative source, but he isn't ever backed up by like... facts. Or evidence. Or reality. Or anything. Ever. He crowned himself king of the Plants. He speaks and acts for them by divine right, apparently. He didn't take a vote or anything - in his mind it's self-evident only he understands the world, and Vash, and the correct way to use the Plants. Because remember that it's not using Plants he gives a damn about, even using them to death in the Last Run, as long it's him doing it. It's being dependent upon humans; he views providing for our basic survival needs as wasteful and inherently, exclusively parasitic, even if we're helping the Plants to survive in turn. Because it's humans that he's frightened of, and he wants the yucky things gone.

The thing is, when he's not being purposefully manipulative (though Vash is the only one he manipulates in person, probably because Vash is the only one he pays enough attention to for his tactics to be effective) he's being a dense fucking idiot. At very few points do his delusions intersect with reality.

The thing is, Knives is a known, proven, and entirely unrepentant liar. It's the logical extension of the way he gaslights Vash. He is in no way a trustworthy source of information.

All that he says is part of a heroic narrative about being the specialest boy evar that he came up with to avoid taking any blame or responsibility for the consequences of his actions. Knives considers himself perfect, but he's made plenty of mistakes, which I do think he would consider mistakes - among them Rem's death, alienating Vash, cutting off his arm and rendering him disabled, and what I suspect to be the large number of Plants killed in the Fall, along with the ones consumed by the Last Run in the desperation that followed.

So he tells himself... little stories. Inside his head. It's how he reconciles it. It's how he copes.

Basically, if you want to find any truth in anything Knives ever says, look closely at what he says, and believe the opposite.

Now, onto my girl and how completely fantastic she is.

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

Part IX

#trigun stampede #trigun meta #tristampparty #millions knives #meryl stryfe #i was about to say “liar pants on fire” and then i remembered #...literally tho #meta: little but fierce #terrible terrible plant man

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ellieluvr420 · 3 months

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We meet again, darling pt.18 (detective Abby Anderson x criminal reader x detective Ellie Williams)

Synopsis: Abby Anderson is a skilled detective that's never let a criminal escape her grasp, until you. You've infiltrated every part of her life and she still can't get you. As she grows more and more intrigued by you she finds herself descending further into darkness until there's no way back. She takes your hand and follows you as if your presence is the only thing giving her life knowing that you are the most dangerous thing for her. Her life will never be hers again and she will stop at nothing to keep following you down your path of corruption.

Violence (shit is kind of heavy ibr) and mentions of abuse btw!

“YOU FUCKING BITCH WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU PLAYING AT?” Your brother screeched as he storms into your penthouse, you can’t see him yet but you imagine the beetroot colour of his face that he always suffered from growing up.

“What’s got you so riled up?” You’re standing at your island drinking a coffee and going over some last minute details for your travel plans. He storms over and immediately grabs you by the throat, slamming you back into your fridge behind you.

“Don’t give me that shit you little cunt. What the fuck are you doing?” You move carefully to remove your knife from its holster that’s hidden by your blazer, once it’s firmly in your grip you rapidly bring it up and slash the outside of your brother’s wrist. He growls at the pain and back hands you once hard with his other hand, it sends you stumbling to the corner of the counter where you grip on to steady yourself.

“I can’t even tell you how much you look like Dad right now.”

“Oh you are so fucking predictable.”

“Same to you.”

“The fuck do you mean by that?”

“God if mum was here she’d wash your mouth out with soap.” He comes at you with a psychotic look on his face but you’re prepared so you wait for him to get closer and knee him directly in the crotch and then elbow him hard in the nose. He goes down onto his knees and you kick so he falls on his back as he coughs and groans. “You look pathetic right now. That’s what you’ve always been, pathetic. That’s why I had to run shit, because you’re a pathetic, incompetent pussy that can’t do what’s necessary. If you wanted me out of the way, you should’ve just killed me. I would’ve respected you more for that than this bullshit.”

Your voice is raised but you aren’t yelling, he looks at you as you speak and you notice his difficulty focusing but you just stand and stare at the last bit of family you had left, the thought of killing him saddened you for a second but as you watched him writhing around on the floor before he struggles to stand again the sadness morphs into something more energising.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh now who’s feigning ignorance? Ricky Matthews, Johnny. Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out? How stupid are you?”

“I was hoping that they’d catch you before you could, figured your little girlfriend would lead them right to you.”

“I guess you underestimated their loyalty.”

“Their? You sick freak, you're with both of them? I should've fucking known, never could resist what you couldn't have could you?"

"Think I've proved I can have them actually, I've proved over and over again that I can have them, I've had them a lot." A sinister grin grows on your face and his twists into a face of disgust, he honestly looked like he was seconds away from heaving.

"You know I could get over you being a dyke but this, you're not fucking normal! I never believed anyone when they would tell me you're unholy, I always defended you when people said you were Satan's gift to Earth. I've gone along with your story of our parents since you killed them. I was wrong and you were born wrong, there are bad people and then there's you. You trapped me in this shit and I'm done, I need to be rid of you."

You weren't hurt at his words, you didn't feel anything, but your body felt lighter as everything inside you felt like it darkened. You had always had a soft spot for your brother and it always weighed on you, kept you grounded but as you feel its weight dissipating you feel a new sense of warmth as your hatred of him burns a fire deep inside you.

"My story of our parents? What the story of our parents? Are you actually trying to tell me I'm lying about them?"

"We didn't kill them, YOU DID."

"Fine fine, yes okay I killed them but I've protected their AND your honour all these years, I've never told anyone what went on in our white picket fence house. Typical suburban family right? I'm lying when I say we weren't that Johnny, am I?" He huffs and looks down at the floor avoiding your crazed eyes. "You gutless weasel, look at me when I'm speaking to you. Am I lying Johnny?"

He looks up and there are tears in his eyes and it only makes the fire of your hatred for him burn hotter, everything in you was ready to boil over as you held back your rage with every ounce of strength you had.

"I'm sorry okay. I'm sorry for how they treated you. It never even seemed like it affected you, you were the most popular girl in school, I was known as your brother even before you went there, every boy wanted you, every girl wanted to be your friend, you did well in school, you did clubs, you seemed happy so I thought you were okay."

"Oh I was fine. That's the point Johnny, I don't feel anything right? I'm psychotic, sociopathic, narcissistic, what else is there? Let's go through the list hm, bet I fit the criteria for more disorders than I don't. That's why I was numb to it, but do you not think maybe you could've tried to intervene when our dad tried to strangle me with his fucking belt? Yeah I don't feel things but I fucking felt that. But I looked happy so it was okay to just let him continue breaking my ribs when he had had a bad day right?"

"I'm sorry, I was scared."

"Exactly, you were a fucking coward, never once had he ever even raised his voice at you or his fucking wife but you're scared that he's gonna give you the same licks I was getting daily if you step in. Better me than you, you were a fucking coward then and you're a fucking coward now."

"God if you despised me so much why didn't you kill me with them?"

"Because I needed you, do you think I could've got this far if I hadn't had you as my posterboy?"

"So you've put me through hell so you could use me?"

"Yeah."

"See! This is what I fucking mean, can't you see it?"

"What? That I'm a bad person? Of course I fucking see it. But I kill and I hurt and I abuse when it serves a purpose to me, not because my ego is so fragile I need to pick on someone I know can't fight back."

"And that makes it okay?"

"No obviously not but that's the point, I don't care. I don't care that it isn't okay to kill your parents and I don't care that it isn't okay to kill your brother. I don't concern myself with justifying my actions I just do it." You spit your words at him as you pull your gun from its holster and aim it directly at his heart.

"Why couldn't you have been normal?" He pleads and your hand with the gun waivers as you actually feel a pain in your chest, its a foreign feeling and you clutch at it with your free hand as you focus on your brothers hunched form.

"Do you know what? I wouldn't have been able to blackmail you into all of this if you hadn't killed that fucking girl? Remember who you called to come help you? Remember who was the reason you didn't get thrown in jail? You act like I was born all dark but you aren't sunshine and rainbows either. Why'd you kill her again Johnny?"

"Shut. Up."

"Oh yeah, because you got her pregnant and you were too much of a coward to tell our fucking parents because god forbid they see that you aren't their perfect little angel boy. You killed a pregnant girl John, I think it's time you face the fact that we are just a fucked up family, Dad, me, you, Mum was a poor victim in it all but her ability to brush everything under the rug to keep up appearances is what got her six feet under."

"I killed someone and now you make any new employee kill someone to prove themselves. You don't see how we're different?"

"You killed an innocent pregnant 18 year old and I kill bad people with bad intentions. You don't see how that's different?"

He goes silent as you both just stand there, there's blood splatters on the floor and countertops from the various wounds you had inflicted on him. The atmosphere was heavy and you realise you're glad you sent Ellie and Abby home before he came over because the thought of them hearing some of the things that have been said causes a shiver to run down your spine.

"You ruined me. I was going to be an engineer, I had potential and now I can never live a normal life again."

"You ruined yourself, I just capitalised on it. Don't see you crying about losing your normal life when you're lounging about in your massive fucking mansion. Or your collection of supercars, or what about that summer house in Aspen. Never had a problem with all the things I've given you because of the shit I do."

"I let myself be bought."

"You did. I hope you enjoyed it because you've stopped being of use to me now. Sorry your funeral isn't going to be as good as your last one, do you remember how many more flowers my grave got than yours? I knew it was a good idea to wait and watch the aftermath."

"I don't even care anymore. Just kill me." His acceptance of his fate pissed you off and you find yourself smashing his face down into the countertop with every bit of your strength, his nose makes a distinctive cracking sound and he cries out although it comes out strangled. As he falls down to the floor once again struggling to breathe, you pin him down to stop his wriggling, you looked at your gun in your hand and it didn't feel right so you swapped it for your knife and dragged it down his bloody face as you took in his features one last time.

This was it, the last thing grounding you to your humanity, the last weight you had to shed and the moment had come, the world could burn and you'd just lay in the fire, the darkness that had enveloped you in its embrace all your life was no longer externally guiding you, it infected every cell in your body, the darkness became you and directed the knife straight into John's heart, again and again. By the time you were done you were kneeling in a pool of his blood and there was a cavity in his chest, you look at his dull, lifeless eyes and you stand to look over him before crouching again diving your knife into his face until he is unrecognisable, you sit back and admire your work as you recount all the things he said to you.

As you walked away to go get cleaned up you pulled out your phone to message on the group chat you have with Ellie and Abby. Ellie had made it saying it would be easier but you still felt silly using a group chat.

'How's packing going?' You message once you've showered and redressed. Ellie begins typing almost immediately.

'yeah it's okay, I don't actually have that much stuff so it's a breeze' You notice yourself smiling at her message which only grows as Abby starts typing, you couldn't describe what it is you feel for them, because like Richter said, you don't feel anything.

'Yeah I'm realising half of my wardrobe is stuff you've bought me.' You chuckle a little and send the kiss mark emoji that you had taken to using as it reminds you of all the lipstick stains you've left in the shape of a pout on them. You put your phone away and prepare yourself to leave your penthouse for one of the last times. You walk past what is left of Richter and message Jeremy that he's ready for collection and call the elevator to your floor.

"I was wondering when you would show."

"Happy to hear you've been expecting me." You were stood in front of the boss of the Met, he was a heavy set man with dark hair that had streaks of grey running through it as its all gelled backwards to sit smoothly against his head and a large moustache with the same grey speckles on the dark background covering most of his top lip. He sat in a nice suit smoking a cigar, you roll your eyes at the cliché and he chuckles a little.

"Well I wasn't expecting you. You're telling me a little girl took down my empire?"

"Empire is generous don't you think? I thought we should have a chat."

"I'd love to." He gestures at the chair in front of his desk and you sit slowly while fixed on his dark eyes. as they examine your every move.

psa: I know she's a bad girl but my heart broke a little for reader while writing this. She's just different okay :') Goodness the end is getting closer, sorry there wasnt much of abby or ellie in this chapter but i really wanted to focus on reader and richter

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insertsomthinawesome · 3 months

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I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!! Okay so honestly I have been very very inconsistent over the years with just disappearing for periods of time due to various things 😂 So it probably seemed pretty normal to most people.

But it felt different on my side, so I'm excited to be back in business. I took a month long hiatus! 31 days of not drawing digital art. Its not something I talk about on here? But I've been suffering from some serious long term Art Burnout for.... a really really long time. Long enough that I should've taken a break probably years ago. It finally got so bad that I could barely draw. I was scared to do it (cause it always looked "bad" in my eyes [i'll come back to that]) and doing it was exhausting and disheartening.

I talked it over with somebody and realized that the fear and anger and frustration I felt towards my own artwork was uh. Not Normal or Healthy. And I finally committed to taking a real break for once.

I still drew a little bit by hand? Traditional art has always felt like it has lower stakes for me (i don't often share it online, and sometimes I don't even share it with friends) so I did some of that when I felt like it. But Digital art was completely off the table.

I had put such an immense pressure on myself to make my digital art perfect, to make as much of it as quickly as possible to satisfy something. It wasn't fun anymore. I'm proud of what i've made over the years! But for a long time now the stuff I've been making was made while hating every second of making it. With some rare exceptions.

I hated my art! It was a combination of Perfectionism, taking in too many external expectations, and the burnout. If you hate doing something its kinda hard to love it even when you want too lol. It wasn't "Bad" in the sense that the quality was low and it was ugly! It was "Bad" in the sense that it was unhealthy for me to keep doing it at that point in time.

I'm glad to report though, that with my hiatus officially over as of Wednesday last week: I am once again. In Love. With doing art, and being an artist :)

I put off taking a break for years cause I was scared that taking a break would mean that I would never achieve all the things I wanted to do with art. I was scared it was a stupid and lazy thing to do that would mean I'd never achieve my dreams. And Also even though I kinda hated drawing, I also loved making art. Its a weird duality that I can't even really explain??? I hated it but I also loved it. I wanted it but I also wanted to run from it. It wasn't until I was more mature and had more clarity and insight (and unfortunately also until the problems got worse) that I was finally able to let go of those fears and just do it.

And I'm really really glad I did. It was everything I needed. And I hope to strike a better balance in the future with art. Taking more breaks when I need them, or just when other things have my attention like reading or Video games (Some star rail got played during this time xD)

From the outside things probably aren't going to be that different?? At this point I don't really have any sure plans to post anything I've been drawing since my Hiatus ended. I might or I might not xD I'm still a hobbyist artist taking things at her own pace, but I hope that it shows how much happier I am :)

Whumptober 2023 is being officially put to rest by this post btw! I was in major burnout when that event started, and I'm ready to just, move on from all the past expectations I'd shoved on my shoulders. If I feel like filling any of the prompts or going back to any of the ideas I'd come up for it I will! But I'm not going to worry about doing it unless the desire sets in. Thanks to everybody who's been so kind to me throughout my time on here as an artist! Ya'lls tags and screaming and kind words, the fanfic, the asks and the responses? Its been fantastic :) You guys have made me laugh, smile, and cry tears of joy. I hope from here that things only get better and sweeter! And if I have bad days again, that's okay too.

Here's to 2024 and whatever it may bring ya'll :D 🎉🎉✨✨🧡💜

#isa screams #long post #gif #flashing #i think? Lemme know if I'm incorrect on that one alksdjfLKSJDJDSG #I don't normally talk this much so its kinda strange?#its kinda nice to be more honest about this stuff though #I'm a bit more of a private person so its hard to find the balance between wanting to discuss things openly and honestly #but with the fact that I don't owe the entire world an explanation for everything I do #its a tricky thing #but today I felt like doing this and I think that's okay #if i regret it I just won't do it again alsdjLSDJLFJSGSDG #thanks if you read this! I appreciate it!#I'm a pretty smalltime artist relatively. So sometimes it feels as though it doesn't mater what i say or express.#But hm. I doubt its really that simple or bleak #And if I don't respect myself then well. Who will right?#And I want to learn how to be happy with how little or how much I get #part of the reason I've done so poorly mentally as an artist is chasing numbers and outside praise instead of asking the harder questions #am i happy with what i do? what I make? Who I am #I'm going to probably be working on those questions and problems for the rest of my life.#But thats okay. Thats not a bad thing :)

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gerrystamour · 1 year

Text

i am thick tar on the inside burning

Rated G | Steddie Week Day 6: True | 1600 Words | Complete

Related to run it back (give me five whole minutes)

[ READ ON AO3 ]

“Y’being mean t’my boyfriend again?” Steve jumped at the sleepy voice mumbling against the back of his neck, shivering as Eddie kissed him there gently. “Wasn’t saying anything,” Steve deflected instead of trying to lie. “Didn’t hafta,” Eddie chuckled, tugging Steve until he rolled over and faced him. “You got all tense when you woke up, then tried to sneak away.” This is my entry for @steddie-week Day 6: True & Misunderstandings Basically, @patchworkgargoyle mentioned possibly added a convo about Steve's negative self-talk into run it back and I felt like a convo at that point would've been more than Steve could handle at the time, but I def wanted to write a convo, especially after seeing the tags of some of my fellow RSD sufferers. So here! A fic with one of the best coping mechanisms I've learned for RSD!

Steve slowly woke up with Eddie spooned up against his back, long arms around him tight. It was so nice that it took Steve’s mind several moments to catch up and remember what happened last night.

“Hey! Don’t talk about my boyfriend like that.”

The memories of Eddie walking in on him like that had embarrassment flooding through Steve, his ears burning with the heat of it. Yeah, Eddie was comforting last night, and yes Eddie was gentle and perfect, but again Steve was the one to be comforted and taken care of. Eddie did all the emotional labour and hadn’t he been through enough ? Couldn’t someone just take care of him for once? After all Eddie overcame, he had to be saddled with a boyfriend who couldn’t even handle one bad day at work?

The thoughts were spiraling, just as they always did when left to his own devices, but he was determined to stop them before Eddie woke up. Normally, he would mutter to himself, shame himself into knocking it off the way his father would. Sometimes, even smack himself a bit to get it to sink the fuck in . But he couldn’t do that with Eddie against him so tightly.

Maybe he could slip away from Eddie, go downstairs to start on breakfast and deal with the swirling thoughts there? It was worth a shot, so Steve carefully tried to sneak out from under Eddie’s arm, only for the man to murmur in his sleep and somehow tighten his arm around Steve.

Steve suppressed a frustrated sigh, closing his eyes and counting backward from one hundred to try to calm himself down. It was something a guidance counselor had once told him to do when he felt his anger or frustration mounting, except Steve struggled with counting backward like that, which often caused more frustration. But it was a different frustration than whatever was bothering him, so it did kind of loop around to being helpful.

“Y’being mean t’my boyfriend again?”

Steve jumped at the sleepy voice mumbling against the back of his neck, shivering as Eddie kissed him there gently.

“Wasn’t saying anything,” Steve deflected instead of trying to lie.

“Didn’t hafta,” Eddie chuckled, tugging Steve until he rolled over and faced him. “You got all tense when you woke up, then tried to sneak away.”

A hot blush overtook Steve’s face as he glanced away. “How long’ve you been awake?” he asked guiltily.

“Been kinda drifting for a couple hours,” Eddie said, reaching up to stroke Steve’s cheek gently. “Do you talk to yourself like that a lot, Stevie?”

Steve refused to look at Eddie as he shrugged. “I mean, I guess. It’s not like I’m saying anything people aren’t already thinking,” he said, his mouth twisting. “Or will think, eventually.”

“If I ever decide you’re the worst boyfriend, you will absolutely hear about it because I will say so,” Eddie said firmly. “Which is not going to even happen anyway , because you’re the furthest thing from a bad boyfriend, let alone the worst . I mean, dragging my half-dead corpse out of Hell is worth like, a billion Best Boyfriend Ever points.”

“That’s not how shit works , Eddie,” Steve said explosively, and when he moved to roll onto his back and Eddie tried to stop him, he said firmly, “Eds, I can’t have this conversation like this. I’m not trying to leave; I just need a bit of space.”

Immediately, Eddie relaxed his arms. “Sorry, Steve,” he said quietly, and guilt swarmed in Steve’s head.

“No, you’re okay, you didn’t do anything wrong, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t do that , Stevie. You need space, you can have it,” Eddie insisted, retreating from Steve a bit, but keeping his hand resting on his waist.

Steve sighed and rolled onto his back, idly playing with Eddie’s fingers where they were now splayed across his stomach. “You can say I have all these points for being a good boyfriend, but the bad shit will always take more points than I can gain,” Steve said, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“That’s—ugh, Steve, the ‘good boyfriend’ points pool is entirely separate from any other pool. You can’t lose those. But I’m done with this metaphor because you’re focusing on the wrong shit,” Eddie said with some frustration and Steve cringed. “Don’t take that like a criticism of you, babe, because it wasn’t.”

“How was that not a criticism of me ?” Steve asked angrily, hurt by Eddie’s words and how it felt as though Eddie was trying to redefine how words worked entirely.

“Okay, listen,” Eddie said, sitting up to look down at Steve and crossing his legs. “I used to say mean shit to myself all the time, still sometimes do, and a lot of times I justify it as me just ‘saying what everyone was thinking,’ too, okay?”

Steve blinked up at Eddie, confused and frowning. “I thought you didn’t care what anyone else thought about you,” he said after a bit, trying to reconcile what he was hearing with the Eddie he had come to know.

“Oh, Stevie, I was full of shit with that whole shtick in high school. I cared very much about what everyone thought back then, I just worked really hard to make it seem like I didn’t,” Eddie confessed with a laugh. “By my third senior year, I was closer to not caring but still. I did. A lot.”

“How do you stop, though?” Steve asked and Eddie sighed, shrugging.

“I just think about what the person actually said,” he said, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“I already do that , Eds,” he huffed, looking away.

“No, you think about what they meant , not what they said ,” Eddie said, turning Steve’s face toward him again with a finger on his chin.

“It’s the same thing,” Steve bit out, again feeling frustration building at Eddie just deciding that words didn’t mean what they meant .

“Okay, I said ‘you’re focusing on the wrong shit’ which I will concede, the swearing was maybe too much, sue me, I swear. How did you take that?” Eddie asked.

“That I’m wrong, that I can’t even pay attention to what you’re saying. That I’m stupid, slow,” Steve said in a rush, forcing himself to hold Eddie’s gaze.

Eddie’s expression turned so sad that Steve regretted saying anything. “Okay, now repeat what I actually said ,” Eddie instructed.

“That I was focusing on the wrong shit,” Steve said flatly, still not seeing the point of the exercise.

“Did I say you were stupid? Or slow?” Eddie asked, and Steve shook his head lightly. “Did I say you were wrong, and that you couldn’t focus on what I was saying?”

Steve opened his mouth to argue that Eddie had said that but when he turned the sentence over in his head, he realized that Eddie hadn’t. Yes, those words were used, but not in the order necessary for Steve’s understanding to be correct.

“I was just stating a fact. I tried to comfort you with a joke and got you caught up in a metaphor. That’s it, baby, it wasn’t me criticizing you,” Eddie said emphatically.

“But most of the time people do mean it like that,” Steve insisted, and Eddie nodded.

“Yeah, probably, but that’s not your problem,” he said with a shrug. “If they’re not going to be up front about it, fuck’em.”

“It’s not that simple, Eds!” Steve insisted, covering his face with both hands.

“Okay, listen, I’ve never had to describe how I shut my brain up when it’s being annoying, so give me a second,” Eddie said with a determined huff. When Steve looked at him again, Eddie was thinking hard and obviously hamming it up a bit, propping his chin on his fist while he hummed.

When Steve laughed lightly, Eddie looked down at him again with a tight-lipped grin.

“Okay, so, when someone says something to me and I immediately start beating myself up about it, I stop and think about the actual words and if I said that to someone I cared about, how would I mean it?” Eddie eventually said.

“I would mean exactly what I said,” Steve supplied, understanding starting to break through.

“Exactly. And every time my brain tries to insist it’s a mind-reader, I just keep repeating the actual words. Ignore the tone, think about the words until the brain stops,” Eddie said, shrugging. “It takes a lot of work, but I call myself stupid a lot less and that’s a bonus.”

Steve blinked up at him, turning the words over in his head. “That’s genius, Eds,” Steve said softly before frowning. “But what about when the people do mean it?”

“Honestly, babe, fuck those people,” Eddie said with a shrug. “You can’t control what they think, so what’s the point making yourself sick over it? And still, unless you’re a mind-reader or they admit to it, you’re still just assuming.”

Steve smiled up at Eddie. “You make that sound so easy,” he said after a minute and Eddie tilted his head.

“Just have more practice working on it. Like I said, I still deal with this shit, and sometimes I still slip up, but it gets easier,” Eddie said, then he sprawled out on top of Steve with a wide grin. “But I promise, right here and now, that I will only ever mean exactly what I say when I say it to you, okay, Stevie? No matter my tone, no matter my face, the words out of my mouth are the full message.”

“Nothing between the lines?” Steve asked, his voice almost a whisper as he stared up at Eddie in awe.

“Why would I do that when I can just as easily say what I mean?” Eddie replied, kissing the tip of Steve’s nose.

“Okay,” Steve said, then took a deep breath. “And I promise I’ll try your way of dealing with this stuff, too.”

“Good,” Eddie said with a happy sound. “Now, gimme a kiss.”

“Your breath is rancid, Eds—”

“So is yours! Gimme kisses!”

“ Fine … Love you.”

“Love you, too, Stevie.”

[AO3 LINK]

I hope you enjoy and please consider reblogging! Taglist! @scarcrossdlvrs, @steddie-there, @indigohightide, @steddieas-shegoes, @steve-harringtits, @mylilplanet, @afewproblems, @xenon-demon, @inairbinad, @matchingbatbites

#steddie #steve x eddie #steddieweek2023 #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve/eddie #gerry writes

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mcflymemes · 8 months

Text

ASSASSIN'S CREED III PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the video game, adjust as necessary

we never took them seriously. maybe we should have.

i'm getting ahead of myself.

we've been fighting them for thousands of years.

i've seen the truth.

it holds the power to change everything.

there's only so much we can do.

if we can't find a way to stop it, these next few weeks will probably be our last.

it worked. we think. we hope.

we're here. let's go.

you must find the key.

here we go again.

do you hear us?

you collapsed and entered into a fugue state.

you weren't in any danger.

i know what i'm looking for, by the way. it's a key.

i'd like to run a couple of quick tests.

have you seen it before?

my father brought me here as a child.

on to business then.

the stairs are watched. you'll need to find another way up.

you should have come to me.

for what it's worth, i'm sorry.

that's why we've called you here.

i am yours to command.

well, then i'd best be on my way.

my research has been stolen. without it, i'm of no use to you.

i'll see if i can't speed things up.

we need to find a way inside.

i believe i've found the solution to our problem.

we'll attack on my signal.

i made a promise to you, [name], one i intend to keep.

the sooner we're done, the sooner we can get out of this cold.

it does not engender peace to cut your way to resolution.

if we applied the sword more liberally and more often, the world would be a better place than it is today.

now i've upheld my part of the bargain, i expect that you will honor yours?

you seem disappointed.

you have shown me great kindness, [name]. thank you.

really? that's your response? it's like dealing with a six year old.

i sense my words cause pain.

do you even know what that symbol represents?

come on. i've got something to show you.

very well. i'll train you.

you're also going to need a new name.

what's true and what is aren't always the same.

you'll be happy to hear there's actually good news for once.

it's silly for us to go back and forth like this.

we cannot give up our home.

do you have a name? do you know who is responsible?

time will tell if you speak the truth.

why are you here? has something happened?

you should have heeded my warning.

perhaps you'll respond better to the sword.

are you threatening us?

i thought it might bring clarity or instill a sense of accomplishment. but all i feel is regret.

such sacrifices must never come lightly.

all of them must be dealt with in turn.

you speak the words, but do you believe them?

takes a true monster to do something like this.

every day i wait, more will suffer.

many who should've died today now live because of you.

we do the best we can with what we've got.

you wield your blade like a man, but your mouth like a child.

there are more important things at stake here.

i do what is right. no more. no less.

i don't even see a stall in here. what if i had to take a dump?

please just mute the microphone if you do.

life is not a fairy tale, and there are no happy endings.

in your haste to save the world, take care you don't destroy it!

our interests are aligned.

perhaps some time together might do us good.

i can kill you now if you prefer.

would you like me to come along and hold your hand, perhaps?

why the change of heart? where is this coming from?

you oppose tyranny. injustice. these are just symptoms. their true cause is human weakness.

you have said so much... but you have shown me nothing.

tell me of your latest exploits.

you have not come this far to throw it all away over misplaced sentiment.

there is nothing more to discuss.

i should have stayed.

now you must hide it.

what once was shall be again.

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lisa972kdlz · 4 months

Text

(Il y a une version française juste en dessous: Bonne lecture !)

UNDERVERSE THEORY:

Have you noticed it too?

That soul, there...

TheeeeeEEEEre !

Have you ever wondered who it might belong to?

When I was listening to the song "Broken Truce", my eyes glided over this soul without lingering on it. I told myself it was just a slightly strange heart like so many others you find with the different OC's the Creators come up with... But the day my brain finally twiged that it wasn't normal, it made me wonder...

Huh, that's strange... A weird soul covered in black in an image illustrating a song in a web series that has a habit of playing on words and images to imply clues... shown directly in the foreground, blurred what's more, interesting, isn't it? I've checked the series and I've never found in Error's cables any souls other than the normal ones; monster souls and red Determination souls. Not even human souls like Kindness, Patience, Justice, etc. Jakei is a person who pays attention to detail. Given that she animates her series on her own and that it's a mammoth task, she's got into the habit of not cluttering up her plans with unnecessary details. So why would she stick a random soul in there?

That's when I said to myself: no. This soul has a meaning. But whose could it be? And why would it be in Error's possession?

There are lots of characters whose souls are gloomy and a bit odd... Error, X-Gaster, Fatal Error, Fresh, Nightmare...

Firstly, even if it looks like one, it can't be Nightmare's because his soul is an apple. Anyway, Error's cables have no effect on him, and then, well... It simply wouldn't make any sense or be of any interest to the story.

Error's then? After all, he's a corrupt being in a way, and we're talking about an appearance in a song about his relationship with Ink. But even if he had one... It would be glitchy and certainly not that different from basic monster souls. Same goes for Fatal.

Gaster has his soul in his possession and it doesn't look like that anyway...

Fresh, his soul is directly the parasite...

Gee, who could that be?

Ink 🤔?

No, I'm such an idiot! It can't be Ink's soul because Ink has no soul ^^ !

...

Wait...

INK HAS NO SOUL (⁠┛⁠◉⁠Д⁠◉⁠)⁠┛⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻ !!!!!!

Here's my theory: the soul in Error's threads is Ink's soul. Let's look at it: it's covered in a kind of blackish liquid with bluish tints. Black liquid is often associated with hatred or suffering. And if not, it's simply covered with ink. And blue, whether in general or in Underverse 0.7's context, is associated with sadness. So: sadness and suffering, in a concentration so strong that it had an impact on the very appearance of the soul... The emotions Ink must have been feeling when he was stripped of his essence! Ink suffers from severe denial in relation to the emotion represented by the blue, since it's the only one that's always full, so it coincides. And whose soul would it be otherwise? Why would Jakei have drawn it in THIS video specifically? A song about Ink and Error? Why in the foreground, showing that it's important, and blurred, showing that it's a hidden element that will be revealed in the near future?

And why would the soul have ended up in Error's threads? It's not hard to imagine, Error has a whole gallery of souls in his Anti-Void. He'd clearly be able to wander into an empty AU at random and find it on the floor, going, "Oh, that's a pretty one, why don't I add it to my collection?"

But what I like most about this theory is everything it would involve:

It would mean that Ink could get his soul back at the end of Underverse, bringing to a close his character development. See him finally come to terms with his feelings and get his soul back so that he can feel for himself, freely, accepting what that involve and facing once and for all the suffering he has ostensibly been running away from...

It would mean that finally, there's a reason why Ink live even without a soul in his body, because well, that's something I've always wondered about his character! His soul has been extracted from his body, but his body is still moving, and lives only on the emotions provided by the ink in his vials, like Kris in Deltarune when he rips out his soul.

It would mean that, come on, he might be able to recover a viable memory?

And above all... It would mean that Error had the opprtunity to kill Ink for good FROM THE BEGINNING and that he was incapable of doing it just because he didn't know it was his 🤣 !!!! And THAT is handsome!

Error at this moment:

An hilarious polt twist–

Unless he'd simply forgotten he had it, which is... Clearly possible coming from Error.

The only problem with this theory is that, in Ink's comic, he doesn't just rip it off his body... He's tearing it apart. The soul completely crumbles to dust. So canonically speaking, it's impossible.

That said, it's a detail that can easily be overlooked if you're keen to incorporate the idea into a story, especially as Underverse never set out to make complete canon.

So why not?

In any case, if this theory is wrong in Underverse, I think it's still a great Headcanon ^^

__________________

THÉORIE UNDERVERSE :

Vous aussi vous l'avez remarquée ?

Cette âme, là...

LÀ !

Vous ne vous êtes jamais demandé a qui elle pouvait appartenir ?

Quand j'écoutais la chanson "Broken Truce" mon regard avait glissé sur cette âme sans m'y attarder. Je me disais que c'était juste un cœur un peu bizarre comme tant d'autres qu'on trouve avec les différents OC's qu'imaginent les Créateurs... Mais le jour où mon cerveau à enfin tilté que c'était pas normal, elle m'a beaucoup interrogée...

Primo : tiens, c'est bizarre... Une âme étrange recouverte de noir dans une image illustrant une chanson dans une websérie qui a l'habitude de jouer sur les mots et les images pour sous-entendre des indices... montrée direct au premier plan, floue qui plus est, intéressant, non ?

Segundo : j'ai vérifié dans la série et je n'ai jamais trouvé dans les fils d'Error d'autres âmes que les normales, des âmes de monstres et des âmes rouge de Détermination. Même pas des âmes d'humain comme Gentillesse, Patience, Justice, etc.

Tertio : Jakei est une personne qui fait attention aux détails. Étant donnée qu'elle anime toute seule sa série et que c'est un travail de titan, elle a pris l'habitude de ne pas encombrer ses plans de détails inutiles. Alors pourquoi elle fouterait une âme bizarre LÀ ?

C'est là que je me suis dit : non. Cette âme a un sens. Mais à qui pourrait-elle être ? Et pourquoi serait-elle en possession d'Error ?

Il existe plein de personnages dont l'âme est sombre et un peu bizarre... Error, X-Gaster, Fatal!Error, Fresh, Nightmare...

Premièrement, même si elle y ressemble, ça ne peut pas être celle de Nightmare vu que son âme est une pomme. De toute manière les câbles d'Error n'ont aucun effet sur lui, et puis surtout bah... Ça n'aurait aucun sens ni aucun intérêt scénaristique qu'elle serait là.

L'âme d'Error alors ? Après tout c'est un être corrompu d'un certain côté, et puis on parle tout de même d'une apparition dans une chanson parlant de sa relation avec Ink. Mais en admettant qu'il en aie une... Elle serait glitchée et très certainement pas si différente des âmes de monstres basique. Pareil pour Fatal.

X-Gaster a son âme en sa possession et de toute manière elle ne ressemble pas à ça...

Fresh, son âme est directement le parasite...

Mince, qui ça peut être ?

Ink 🤔?

Bah nan, qu'elle idiote je fais ! Ça peut pas être l'âme de Ink vu que Ink n'a pas d'âme ^^ !

...

Wait...

INK N'A PAS D'ÂME (⁠┛⁠◉⁠Д⁠◉⁠)⁠┛⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻ !!!!

Voilà ma théorie : l'âme qui est dans les fils d'Error est celle de Ink. Observons la : elle est couverte d'une sorte de liquide noirâtre aux reflets bleuté. Le liquide noir est très souvent associé à la haine, ou la souffrance. Et sinon, à l'encre tout simplement. Tandis que le bleu, que ce soit de manière générale ou dans Underverse 0.7, est plutôt associé à la tristesse. Tristesse et souffrance, en un concentré tellement fort que ça a eu un impact sur l'apparence même de l'âme. À savoir les émotions que devait ressentir Ink au moment où il s'est destitué de son essence... Ink qui souffre d'un gros déni par rapport à cette émotion représentée par le bleu vu que c'est la seule qui est toujours pleine, donc ça coïncide. Et à qui serait cette âme sinon ? Pourquoi Jakei l'aurait-elle dessinée dans CETTE vidéo spécifiquement ? Une chanson qui parle justement de Ink et d'Error ? Pourquoi en premier plan, montrant que cela a de l'importance, et floutée, montrant que c'est un élément caché qui sera révélé dans un futur proche ?

Pourquoi l'âme se serait retrouvée dans les fils d'Error ? Pas compliqué à imaginer, Error possède une galerie entière d'âmes dans son Anti-Void. Il serait clairement capable de se balader dans un AU vide au hasard et la trouver par terre en mode : «Oh, tiens, elle est jolie celle-là, et si je l'ajoutais à ma collection ?»

Mais ce qui me plaît le plus avec cette théorie, c'est tout ce que cela impliquerait :

Ça voudrait dire que Ink pourrait récupérer son âme à la fin de la série, concluant en beauté son développement de personnage qui le poussait à assumer enfin ses sentiments et récupérer son âme pour ressentir par lui-même, librement, en acceptant ce que ça implique et en affrontant une bonne fois pour toute la souffrance qu'il a ostensiblement fuie...

Ça voudrait dire que finalement, il y a une raison pour laquelle Ink est encore vivant même sans âme dans son enveloppe corporelle, parce que bon, c'est quand même quelque chose que je me suis toujours demandée sur son personnage ! Il a son âme extraite de son corps mais son corps est encore en mouvement, et ne vit que par les émotions procurées par l'encre de ses fioles. Ça s'est déjà vu dans des éléments canons, quand Kris de Deltarune il s'arrache l'âme.

Ça voudrait dire que, allez, si ça se trouve, il pourrait récupérer une mémoire viable ?

Et surtout... Ça voudrait dire qu'Error avait DEPUIS LE DÉBUT l'occasion de tuer Ink pour de bon et qu'il était pas fichu de le faire parce qu'il était pas au courant que c'était la sienne 🤣 !!! Et ÇA, c'est trop fort !

Error :

Un retournement de situation hilarant xD

À moins qu'il aurait tout simplement oublié qu'il l'avait en sa possession, ce qui est clairement possible venant d'Error.

Le seul problème qui vient à l'encontre de cette théorie, c'est que dans le Comic de Ink, il ne fait pas que se l'arracher à son corps... Il se la déchire. L'âme tombe complètement en poussière. Donc canoniquement parlant, c'est impossible.

Cela dit, c'est un détail qui peut être facilement négligé si on a envie d'intégrer cette idée à une histoire, surtout qu'Underverse n'a jamais eu la prétention de faire du canon complet.

Donc après tout pourquoi pas ?

Dans tous les cas, si cette théorie est fausse dans Underverse, je trouve que ça reste un super Headcanon ^^

Ink belongs to @comyet

Error!Sans belongs to @loverofpiggies

Underverse belongs to @jakei95

"Broken Truce" belongs to @nyxtheshield

#theory #underverse #ink sans #error sans #undertale au #text post #inktale #Underverse serie #Broken truce #Jakei #nyxtheshield #theweirdsoulinbrokentrucesong #soul #theory underverse #errorink #errorink relationship #Ilovetheirrivalshipsohardly

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scintillyyy · 10 months

Text

"There's a new Batman in town," Tim says. At least, that's what Dick thinks he says. It is a bit muffled from the cereal the kid is currently shoving into his mouth. It's entirely possible that Dick misheard him.

Yea, he probably misheard him. Tim probably actually said something like There's a new...Vat Man...in town. Like a new villian or something--Tim's always trying to tell him about all the new weirdos that are popping up nowadays, like he thinks it matters to Dick. This is probably just some weird new player who throws people into vats. Wouldn't be the strangest thing Gotham's ever seen. "I've got what might sound like a vaguely familiar concept for you, kid: it's called chewing and swallowing before you talk," Dick says. "Ring any bells? Maybe you can remember your mom mentioning it once or twice when you were younger?" There's a slight, tense pause. Crap. That was insensitive, wasn't it? It's not that Dick forgot that Tim is an orphan--god, how could he? Especially after how he met the goddamn kid.--it's just so easy to say things like that without thinking.

Dick glances surreptitiously over at Tim. The kid's got a neutral expression on his face. Which isn't bad, but it isn't good either. It could go either way--it's always a minefield mentioning either of Tim's dead parents. Sometimes he'll be totally fine about and others he'll be end up being extra subdued for a couple of days. Tim finishes chewing and swallows with gusto, flashing Dick a grin. "She was more focused on getting me to chew with my mouth shut," Tim says, brightly. "Gotta master the basics before you can move on to advanced instruction, right?" There's a cheeky glint in the younger boy's eyes. Dick silently breathes a sigh of relief. Seems like it's fine this time. Tim brings the bowl up to his mouth and chugs down the milk in about two gulps, letting out a satisfied sigh when it's all gone. Tim stands up and starts tidying up his dirty dishes. "Anyways," Tim says. "As I was saying. There's a new Batman in town," Tim lets out a long suffering sigh as he clatters his bowl into the sink. "And he suuucks."

Which. What? Great. That's cool. It's totally cool that Dick didn't mishear Tim the first time. A new Batman? Whatever. Not Dick's problem.

God, what does that even mean? Who could possibly be Batman except for Bruce? Who would Bruce even let put on the costume?

Clearly, not Dick.

Is it bad that he would have vastly preferred the dastardly new villain Vat-Man running amok and murdering people? Yea, that's probably bad.

And of course he's hearing this news from Tim. God forbid anyone ever pick up the phone and call to tell him anything. First Bruce's goddamn broken back that he only heard about weeks after the fact from Alfred, and now this. Great. Now he's in a bad mood. Why did he invite Tim over again? Tim reaches up into a cabinet to pull out a bag of chips--how is this kid constantly hungry?--and his shirt rides up, exposing the giant black and blue bruise on his back.

Oh, that's right. Because the little sneak had been hiding in the bushes at Dick's disaster of wedding--the one that Dick had distinctly told Tim he was definitely not invited to. Dick was not dumb enough to invite a civilian kid to a Titan affair--the questions alone would be a giant headache. But despite what Dick was sure was a resounding no, not happening, the kid showed up and hit with debris when the altar got exploded. Tim had insisted he was totally fine when Dick found him after everything was done, but still. Even though Tim wasn't supposed to be there, it was a nasty bruise. And really. It was probably technically Dick's fault for even having the wedding in the first place and thinking that maybe, just maybe, he could be happy without everything going wrong for once.

So he kind of has to monitor the kid and make sure he doesn't, like, die or anything from any complications. It's his responsibility now, whether he likes it or not. Dick shoves his bad mood aside. "Don't you have homework or anything?" He asks, changing the subject quickly. He definitely doesn't want to go down whatever avenue Tim is planning on taking him. Hopefully Tim will take the hint.

"I finished it during history," Tim replies breezily. "We weren't learning anything interesting anyways. Aren't you curious about this new Batman at all?"

Oh, good. Tim is not taking the hint. On purpose? Probably, the little twerp. "Not really, Tim. I don't work in Gotham. What happens there is none of my business." A second warning, more clear this time, to try and make Tim stop talking about this before Dick loses his temper.

"It should be," Tim says insistently. "Because it should be you there, not Mr. Armored Nightmare Fuel. Now, I'm not going to say I'm an expert on Batman or anything-" That's true enough. Tim definitely wouldn't say it out loud. Think it, on the other hand...the kid would definitely think it. "-but it would just make way more sense for him to choose someone amazing and trustworthy to take over for him, like you, instead of someone who's going to throw his legacy in the garbage and set it on fire."

"I doubt whoever it is you're talking about isn't ruining Bruce's legacy," Dick says with a sigh, running his hand through his hair. If whoever-it-is is Bruce's first choice, he's got to be much better than Dick on every level. Otherwise, why would Bruce do that?

"I'm pretty sure this dude killed someone," Tim sounds much more upset now. And that--that makes Dick pause. Killed someone? That's ridiculous. Bruce would never, ever let someone who had any potential to do that in on the mission.

"First off, that's ridiculous. Second off, how would you even know that?" Dick says. He immediately notices the way Tim averts his eyes. Which...is not a good sign.

"I was wondering why Batman sucked now," Tim says. "So I. Um. Well, I..." Tim bites his lip. "I just happened to be riding my bike through the warehouse district..and, uh." Happened to be riding his bike through the warehouse district, huh? Dick pointedly looks at Tim. Tim glances back over at him and must see the look on his face because he winces. "I was taking a shortcut," he says defensively.

"Through the warehouse district?" Dick asks.

"Anyways, I happened to see Batman there and he was fighting someone so I was curious and looked through the window," Tim continues on, ignoring Dick's question. "And I didn't have a great view, but Batman was there and someone was dangling and then they weren't and there was a big explosion and-"

"What?" Dick says, worry rising sharply in his chest. "Tim, of all the dangerous, dumb things-"

"I got on my bike and left as soon as I could," Tim says defensively. "I realized right away I should probably get away. But. Um. I didn't see everything, but I really think he might've let that guy die. I don't know. Maybe I missed something and Batman did save him after all. My view really wasn't that great..." Tim is breathing a little heavily. Dick comes over, placing a hand on Tim's shoulder. The kid looks up at him. He looks a bit frightened--and of course he does, if that's what he saw...

"Are you okay?" Dick asks gently. Tim nods furiously.

"I'm fine, but Gotham won't be. Not with whoever is Batman right now," he says with a thick voice. "Really, what could Bruce have possibly been thinking? When you're right here."

Isn't that a million dollar question? If Dick actually had the answer to it, he might not have to live in such a shithole apartment.

#dick and tim #extremely rough drafts #(and i mean that this is all i have so far and i wrote it this morning)#don't expect for a long time but i couldn't get but what if lighthouse dick and tim and prodigal out of my head <3

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buddhamethods · 5 months

Text

10 BL Characters I Want Carnally

AKA I'm just a person with two keen eyes and dubious morals when it comes to enjoying media so don't take it seriously, I'm here for a good time.

Thank you @sndrys for tagging me! This was an eye opening experience putting this together. As it turns out I might have a type (ew).

1) Guy from Bake Me Please (2023)

The sole reason for me creating this list! Look, I dropped Bake Me Please almost immediately because it just wasn't for me BUT I've been lowkey watching through my dash. And let me tell you, my fingers gain consciousness and hit reblog everytime this baby's face pops up because...well...LOOK AT HIM. He is beautiful and he should get the guy (hehe get it) in the end idc.

2) Yok from Not Me (2021)

Yok is such a beloved character and for good reason! He is sexy, he is gay, he sets buildings on fire and steals cops' wallets on accident because HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT GUY HE WAS STALKING WAS A COP??? I love you Yok, never change.

3) Palm from Never Let Me Go/ OurSkyy2 (2022-23)

The anger I felt for all the injustice and mistreatment our beautiful Palm had to face in this show took literal years off my life. It's rare for me to get this passionately protective over a character and yet here we are, in the Palm Protection Squad headquarters. Even Nueng is on the watchlist!

4) Tonhon from Tonhon Chonlatee (2020)

Not to out myself as an enjoyer of silly goofy times , but I did have fun watching Fish Upon The Sky and Secret Crush On You, so OFCOURSE I thought I would like this one too but GOD was it rough. Did I still finish it? Yes. Did I fawn over PoddKhao pairing and have been quietly praying for some kind of reunion ever since? Also yes. Was I foaming at the mouth barking everytime Tonhon AKA Podd was on my screen? I'm not gonna comment without lawyer present.

5) Tew from My Dear Gangster Oppa (2023)

Speaking of Tonhon Chonlatee...AH! Ai Long Nhai (TC's spiritual prequel of sorts) was sure...something. And by something I mean I saw Meen and decided I will never speak ill of men ever again, feminism quite literally left my body. And then a year later My Dear Gangster Oppa came out and guess what??! MEEN IS THE GANGSTER OPPA! Dreams really do come true, kids.

6) Wen from Moonlight Chicken (2023)

(or Tian from ATOATS or Mueang Nan fron FUTS). Mix...I will eat you. Always so dewy and healthy and sparkly-eyed. But Wen from Moonlight Chicken is something out of the realm of my imagination. The sex appeal? The maturity?? The gentleness??!! Somebody sedate me before I say something I will not be able to justify in court.

7) Vee from Love Mechanics (2022)

He is a pretty bisexual who makes the most abhorrent stupid decisions known to men and then weeps and suffers for them WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED? Once again, is the show flawless or even remotely coherent? Absolutely not. That being said Vee brought me so much joy by being stupid I'm forever grateful.

(also YinWar are so back GO WATCH JACK AND JOKER TRAILER)

8) Prapai from Love In The Air (2022)

To a certain extent I've enjoyed every MAME show I've watched. To do that you need to possess the rare ability called "I abandoned every shred of moral integrity to gawk at hot men". And Prapai? MAN is this bitch hot. Tall dark handsome? Check! Bisexual on a bike? Check! Stubborn and annoying? CHECK!

9) Xiang Hao Ting from HIStory3: Make Our Days Count (2019)

*incoherent wailing and sobbing* IM NOT EXPLAINING SHIT ABOUT HIM LEAVE ME ALONE

10) AlanJeff from Pit Babe (2023)

My newest obsession! I refuse to separate our local senior citizen and his favorite prophetic mechanic. Both of them are hot as shit in their own way. Alan is a sexy dilf with so much weight and responsibility on his shoulders it's a miracle he retained his optimism and youthful awkwardness. And Jeff is a prickly baby-cow-baby-deer eyed baby that is so touch starved it's actually a little funny. SO I GUESS ALANJEFF SANDWICH IT IS.

(don't be shy tag yourselves besties <3)

#tag game #bake me please #bake me please the series #not me #not me the series #never let me go #never let me go the series #my dear gangster oppa #my dear gangster oppa the series #moonlight chicken #history 3: make our days count #pit babe #pit babe the series #love mechanics #tonhon chonlatee #love in the air #love in the air the series #blacked out and tagged every show oops

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sharedramblings · 7 months

Text

Icy Problem

Summary: You are cold. Miranda has a jacket. You don't want to take it. Problem created.

Author's note: I think my attempt at crawling out of the funk is doing well. So here, take this thing that I did. It's yours now.

—-—-

Your stubbornness, most of the time, proves to be a great quality of yours. You don't put your foot down when you really really want something, not easily deterred when things don't go your way the first few tries. Once you set your sights on something, you're determined to have it, work for it, stand by it, simply fueled by your own stubbornness.

But pair it with your inattentiveness for the simple little facts that makes you you... then you suffer from situations like the one you currently found yourself in.

You're easily cold, prone to immediately feeling the low temperature creeping under your skin when you stay in an air conditioned room for a long time. Or even when the night falls deeper and the air becomes cooler. Or when you finish a tall cup of an iced drink, the amount of liquid more than you can normally consume. It's simply a fact of life for you— you easily feel cold. You easily get cold.

Yet you don't automatically bring a jacket with you, or any other piece of clothing that could help warm you up. Why would you, really, when every time you tremble from the cold, you can power through it? Until the worst of it passes, until your body can finally regulate your body temperature. So long as you can endure and survive around it, that fact simply doesn't matter that much to you. Like you have no recall for these kind of things, paying them little attention, even when the time comes that it matters most.

The intervention for this idiotic combination of yours comes in the shape of one tall constable, with her short blonde hair and milky white skin. Your girlfriend. Miranda Hilmarson.

The woman is observant, her eyes almost always roaming around when she's in a new, unfamiliar place. Attentive when in the presence of someone she only met. Always curious. Quite clumsy, but at the same time mindful. Especially when it comes to you.

It becomes her personal task to always grab you a jacket once the weather slowly leans on the colder side, aware of your susceptibility to the cold after months of being together. When the telltale signs that come in the form of goosebumps and slight shivers takes place, she promptly drapes the piece of clothing on your shoulders, which, truthfully, doesn't take that long to happen.

This time, however, she doesn't have one of your jackets with her, seeing as you two decided to meet here since she was on duty.

So here you are, standing under the cold night sky in the well-lit night market with your stomach full of mouthwatering street foods, visibly shaking as you listen to the street performer sing. Finishing that chocolate fudge brownie ice cream down to the last bite was a wrong decision. A delicious, chilly, wrong decision.

Beside you was your girlfriend, wearing dark pants with a white shirt underneath her gray zip-up hoodie, looking warm and cozy. Miranda has noticed your state, even before the full on trembling that you're trying so hard but absolutely failing to contain. She has offered you her hoodie then, unzipping the garment, but you refused and told her you're alright. Her cerulean orbs then did a quick sweep over your form before deciding to let it go.

The next time she brought it up, your arms were crossed in your chest, trying to preserve the body heat you still have. You can feel the quivering of your knees, the motions definitely out of your control.

"Here, take my jacket" she said, and still you shook your head.

"It's not that cold" is what you reasoned. You experienced far worse than this.

Miranda sighed, knowing you won't easily back down. But she also won't, more than willing to match your stubbornness.

"You're literally trembling from the cold." She stated the obvious, eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Besides, I've been wearing this since I got here."

"Mir, baby, no. I'm fine, p-promise." You reassured, which didn't go exactly as planned, seeing as your teeth decided it was time to chatter, making your voice shaky. The cold was truly biting your ass, seemingly enjoying the way you tremble in place.

"At least take my hand? And move closer to me." There wasn't any room for argument as Miranda was quick to hold your hand in hers, feeling how icy your palm has become. She pulled you closer afterwards, becoming more conscious of the tremors that took over you.

Unconsciously, you leaned in, drawn by the warmth from her side. You squeezed her hand, laying your head on her upper arm, squishing your cheeks on the soft material of her hoodie which is a size slightly larger than her frame.

The little compromise made way for enjoying the performance in front of you. It was nice, the singer's voice was pleasant to hear, and she was truly enjoying each song she sings, which adds a lot more flavor.

And then the wind picks up. If you weren't in such a state, you're sure it was just a gentle, cool breeze, blowing through the night and over into the open space. A breeze you think you'd enjoy any other time. But you are cold, and it feels like a harsh, frigid air as it moves to get to you. As a result then, a violent and totally irrepressible shudder jerked down your spine as the wind made contact, and you have no time to cover it up, even with a miserable try.

"Okay, that's it. You're wearing this whether you like it or not." Miranda lets go of your hand as she tried to remove her hoodie as quickly as she could, failing to swiftly do it in her haste. That gave you the chance to stop her movements by holding the zipper adjacent to her chest closer to her.

"No, I wo-won't! I can't have my girlfriend feeling c-chilly" You argued back with a more trembling voice, unrelenting still. Miranda's cheeks were already tinted pink, and you're pretty sure that the low temperature has something to do with it. You weren't keen, more now than ever, on the idea of wearing her jacket just because you don't have yours.

"Well, I can't watch my hardheaded girlfriend freeze to death!" She yelled back, mirroring your use of words, exclaiming and emphasizing the last word.

"Freezing to death is a bit absurd, M-mir."

"Not when you haven't stopped shaking!" The scowl in the blonde's face was enough to silence you, a show of the mixture of the worry and annoyance she feels towards you. Deep down you knew she was right, and instead of acknowledging it, you figured it's better that you don't retaliate, also taking into account the fact that your stammering helps further prove her point.

"Five minutes. You'll either take my hoodie or we'll go home." She said with finality, taking your hand in hers again before going back to watching, the furrow in her eyebrows not letting up.

You two decided to stay longer when you were both eating each of your ice creams, as it has been too long since the last time you two were mindless about the time, simply enjoying the peacefulness of not always hurrying to do errands. And that was about to get cut short because of your carelessness.

Despite the tiny disagreement, Miranda hasn't let go of your hand. Rubbing at the skin of your knuckles while her attention is divided on you and the performance. She was gracious with time, letting the second song finish first, the last note ringing before going to the concern at hand.

Before she can speak, however, you step to her front, maneuvering her arms up sideward, arms snaking beneath the jacket and effectively slotting and snuggly fitting yourself in the space between the piece of clothing and her shirt, hugging her. That was the choice. You don't want to end the night prematurely, wanting to spend more time with her outside the apartment.

Miranda's face was flushed from the cold then, but the rosiness on the apple of her cheeks spread more and deepened in color at your actions, the split-second confusion melting to give way to a giddy, soft smile before securing you in her arms, rubbing the side of your arms to help warm you up faster. What a smart choice it was, simultaneously dealing with the problem at hand while subtly apologizing, using Miranda's love for hugs to your advantage. Not to say that you aren't craving to be in her embrace, just that it was a double win situation.

"Can we stay longer now?" You ask, looking up at her. You let the short-haired blonde envelop you in her warmth, almost being covered in her gray jacket.

"So long as you're no longer cold." She said softly with a hint of inquiry, checking if you're starting to get warm and comfortable.

You nod then, swaying you both in the tune of the next song, changing position a few minutes later so you too could face and watch the street performer. Miranda's arms were on either side of your head, resting on your abdomen while she rests her chin on the crown of your head, both of you warm and shielded from anymore trembling.

—-—-

Additional note: This was entirely fueled by a prompt I've seen in passing (months ago) of sharing clothes with a character, and what better way than sharing a jacket with Miranda?

#miranda hilmarson #miranda hilmarson x reader

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