#dream in this living out his dream romance novel closing his eyes to the fact he's about to torpedo it in the grandest and bloodiest | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bedoballoons · 6 months

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Request!!! If I may~ How will they propose? 💍 For Lyney, Xiao, Wanderer, Albedo, Cyno, Kazuha, Tighnari, Kazuha, Heizou, Wrio, Kaveh, Alhaitham~ (feel free to remove some characters or split it if its too much to do at once :3)

Currently in wedding mood and brainrotting about how will the proposal go. Aaaaa 🥰🥰

~🦊🐾✨️

I love writing wedding proposals, they just are so beautiful and full of love, I hope you enjoy! <3

P.s. I did cut out alot of them but I will most likely make a second part!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Will you marry me?~༺}

CW: Very fluffy! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour, Albedo: My love, Wanderer: dummy, Kazuha: Butterfly)

(Includes: Lyney, Albedo, Xiao, Wanderer, and Kazuha!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney held up a card for you, but it wasn't like any of the others in his deck, in fact it wasn't even one you'd ever seen before, "Ooo did you get new cards Lyney? I thought I'd seen all your trick ones!" He chuckled softly, knowing full well that the card in your hands was not only one of his tricks...but also his whole heart, "This ones particularly special Mon amour, watch~"

You trained your eyes on the card, paying close attention as his hand waved over it, just like magic, the picture changed...showing nothing but a ring, a beautiful ruby ring. You weren't sure what it meant, if this was a trick of the eyes...or possibly a moment you'd been dreaming of, "Lyney-"

"What do you say? Care to spend forever together? Cause...I know I want to. I want to spend every single day with you." The magician smiled at you sweetly, you felt like your heart might explode, tears welling up in your eyes. There wasn't any other option, "Yes! Of course yes!"

"Phew, I was getting alittle worried." He pulled you close so he could kiss your cheek and before you could even open your eyes, he'd changed the card into the ring it had once shown.

𑁍༄Albedo:

"What are you up to my love?" Albedo sat down next to you, his arms wrapping around you almost automatically so he could pull you close and rest his chin on your shoulder. He just loved being so close to you, holding you and just watching whatever you were doing, it was almost like his way of studying what you liked.

"Just reading something. It's a love story and truthfully it reminds me of us." You leaned back into him, laying your head back so you could see his reaction...to your surprise...he had a slightly mischievous look.

"Do they? I suppose it isn't to difficult, our romance is truly out of a novel...do they happen to get married in the end?"

Your heart skipped a beat and suddenly you felt flustered, "Yes...why do you ask?"

"Just wondering if it's as accurate to our love story."

"But we arent-"

"Not yet, but if you say yes we could be~" He kissed your cheek as he reached into his pocket, retrieving a small black jewelry case.., "I promise it will be a happily ever after~"

𑁍༄Xiao:

"You arranged your teapot?!" You were in awe, unable to even form a coherent thought as you looked at the now beautifully decorated surroundings. Xiaos domain had originally never changed since he received his teapot, in fact he almost never used it as he preferred to sleep outside. He was originally going to give it to you...say you could build a home for the two of you to live together, but then something had changed his mind.

"I'm...sorry if it's not perfect. I was going to ask for help from the other adepti, but I decided I wanted it to be my own creation. My creation of the perfect spot for us..."

Your cheeks became dusted with a light pink as he spoke, he'd made the perfect spot for the both of you...and he'd done so in the perfect way. "Xiao I love it! We are going to live here together right! This will be our home!" You couldn't contain your excitement, you wanted to run into the home in the middle and squeal, but he seemed to have something else to say.

"Yes...but it's also more than that." He stepped closer to you, his hand gently intertwining with yours as he stared deeply into your eyes...he captivated your attention so easily when he did this, "I want this to be the place of our wedding. The place where we make our promise..."

"W-wedding??"

"Yes...if you will have me. I would like to marry you. Please?"

𑁍༄Wanderer:

"Can I open my eyes yet?" You groaned quietly, trying to peek through the cracks in Wanderers fingers as he lead you deeper into the forest, to a area you'd thought was off limits. You didn't know what had gotten into him, why he was so keen on making sure you couldn't see anything until he said so...why he seemed so absolutely and utterly nervous. He never got nervous, flustered maybe, but nervous? Maybe he was plotting something, "You're not trying to kill me are you?"

"What in teyvat are you talking about? If I wanted to kill you do you really think I'd go through the effort of bringing you here?"

"Maybe. Maybe I'd know if I could see where here is..."

"You can look in just a minute. Now shush and watch out for the branch at your feet."

"You said just a minute 5 minutes ago." You felt yourself wanting to roll your eyes, but to your delight he actually removed his hands so you could see...and it was anything but what you were expecting.

It was a miniature village, filled with creatures you'd only thought were in story books..and even crazier was the large cake they were grouped around. The letters were definitely wonky and some of the words weren't even spelled right, but it clearly read, "Will you marry me?" You spun around to meet Wanderers gaze and he simply smirked at you, "Answer my question dummy~"

𑁍༄Kazuha:

"Kazuha what is this place?" You gasped softly, taking in the vibrant hues of pink trees and the sweet smell of tea brewing, even the grass somehow held a magical feel due to its light blue tint. How this all could be in a cave was beyond your understanding, but of course it didn't surprise you, Kazuha had a way of finding the most beautiful hidden spots and he always enjoyed sharing them with you.

"It's one of the few places in Inazuma that I could come to after the decree had been set in place. It became a important part of my life, somewhere I could hide out and write my hymns and sorrows. Now I come back to show that the darkest part of my life has ended and is now replaced with the most bright and wonderful light. You of course being my light butterfly, I thought it only fitting to bring you here for this.."

Your eyes widened slightly, during his small speech he'd gotten more nervous...and then towards the end he seemed downright flustered, which was so different than his normally calm collected personality. "Bring me here for what?"

He smiled shyly at you, feeling like his heart might explode as he kneeled before you, retrieving the ring he had hand crafted for this very moment. He could tell you were beyond shocked and he hoped dearly that it was in a good way, "Will you marry me butterfly? I need my light in the dark...I cannot see any future without you..., every thought of the next day is centered around you and the love I can give you. Please, allow me to love you...forever and always."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 3 months

Text

Matching Scars, Matching Rings, and Future Tales

A/N: I forgot this was in my drafts. Wrote this a while back.

Steve and Eddie had healed together in the safety of Steve’s house. Harrington Castle, as Eddie had named it, had become Eddie's safe house until he was officially cleared of all charges. That had happened quicker than they had thought, and Eddie was about to move back in with his uncle when he nearly got jumped by some of Jason's friends. He went back to stay with Steve again until the shady government people dealt with Jason's goons.

"Hey, Stevie, since we have matching scars, you know what this means, don't you?" Eddie asked as he stood in front of the mirror with his shirt off.

"I don't know. That we're married?" Steve asked.

"Oh. I was going to say that we're connected forever and that you're stuck with me. If you really want to be married to me, then married we are, big boy," Eddie said with a wink.

"Hmm. Married, huh, and all I get is a bat bite scar, not even a ring," Steve said sarcastically. "How will this marriage work?"

"Oh, baby, if it's a ring you want, then a ring you shall get," Eddie said as he slipped off one of his rings and put it on Steve’s finger. "Better?"

"Well, I've decided to put off the divorce, so that's something," Steve said.

"You're hard work, sweetheart," Eddie said. "But worth it."

Later that night, Steve was sitting up in bed reading when Eddie appeared in the doorway, looking pale and clutching his pillow.

"Uh, I heard married people sleep in the same bed together," Eddie said.

"You have a nightmare?" Steve asked, peering at him over his glasses.

Eddie nodded. Steve moved over and pushed the covers back. Eddie crawled in and plopped on his side as he looked up at Steve.

"Whatcha reading?" Eddie asked with a dimpled grin.

"Um," Steve said, blushing. "A book."

"Gasp! A book! What's that?" Eddie exclaimed dramatically and then scowled. "Yeah. Thanks. I can see that it's a book. What book are you reading? . . . The Witch and the Pirate's Heart. . .Steve, are you reading a romance novel?"

"Um, yeah. . .I like romance, so what?" Steve said.

"Nothing wrong with that. So, what's it about?" Eddie asked.

"This pirate kidnaps a king's daughter, hoping to ransom her for gold. Turns out she has powers because her mother was a witch, a fact she never told the king about. The pirate falls for the daughter, and a war ends up breaking out when the king's rival finds out about her. So, the pirate has a choice to make: return to the sea to resume being a pirate or risk everything to save the woman he loves?" Steve told him.

"Oooh! I'm in," Eddie said. "Read to me?"

"Sure, I'll start over," Steve replied.

"You don't have to do that," Eddie said.

"Nah, it's fine," Steve said. "I just started it."

Eddie lifted up his arm and settled against Steve’s chest. Steve smiled as Eddie's hair tickled his chin.

"In the small but grand kingdom of Osprovia, there lived a king with his daughter, and they lived rather boring lives, or so the King wanted his daughter to believe. Since the death of his beloved wife, Christina, King Edmond did everything he could to make sure his daughter knew nothing of the troubles that came with being royalty. Meanwhile, Eleonora dreamed of adventure. . . "

The next morning, Steve smiled as he got ready for work. Eddie was fast asleep, with his face pressed into the mattress while drool spilled out of his open mouth. One arm and leg was hanging over the side of the bed while his hair was covering part of his face. He grinned and knelt down next to Eddie's face. Steve moved his hair out of his face and stroked it. Warmth bloomed in his chest. Eddie's hair was surprisingly soft. It took him a minute to realize that Eddie's eyes were now open and blinking sleepily at him.

"Morning," Eddie said.

"Good morning, I was just letting you know that I'm leaving for work," Steve said softly.

"Okay," Eddie said, his eyes closing. "Have fun, sweetheart."

Eddie rolled over and hugged Steve’s pillow to his chest. Steve watched him fondly for a moment as his breathing started to slow as he fell back asleep. He started walking out of the room and stopped when he heard Eddie mumble.

"Love you."

Steve went to open his mouth to say something when he heard Eddie's snores. Did he mean it? He shook his head and left to pick up Robin. He smiled as he gripped the wheel, gazing fondly at the ring on his finger. Robin didn't even notice until well into their shift.

"What the hell is that?" Robin asked.

"What is what?" Steve asked.

"That," Robin said, pointing to the ring.

"Oh, that," he replied casually.

"Yes, that. It looks like Eddie's ring," Robin said.

"Well, he is my husband," Steve replied.

"HE'S YOUR WHAT?"

"My husband."

"Your what?!"

"My. Husband."

"Your what?!"

"Robin!"

"Steven!" Robin exclaimed. "Did you get illegally married without me being there to be your best man?! We've talked about this! We both get illegally married to our partners on the same day!"

She punched him in the arm.

"Ow! No, it's just a bit we're doing. I think," Steve said.

"A bit?"

"Yeah. A bit. He's not serious. He made a joke about our matching scars, and then I made a joke that we're married. That's when he put the ring on my finger," Steve said, blushing.

"Oh my god!"

"What?"

"Oh my god!"

"Okay, you have to stop doing that," Steve said.

"You want it to be real," Robin whispered.

"What? I mean. I don't know," Steve said. "Shut up."

"Steeevvvvve. You would tell me if you were gay for this man, wouldn't you?" Robin said, pausing. "I'm sorry, bi for this man."

"You'd be the first to know," Steve said.

"I better be."

Steve walked through the front door of his house. The first thing he smelled was burning toast. Oh God, was he having a stroke? That's a sign that you're having a stroke, right? He walked into the kitchen and found Eddie freaking out over a smoking toaster.

"Eddie?" Steve asked, placing the box of food on the counter.

"I swear I'm not trying to burn your house down!" Eddie exclaimed and shrieked when flames burst from the toaster. "That's really unfortunate timing!"

Steve laughed and took the fire extinguisher from under the sink. Eddie quickly hid behind him and watched as he put out the fire.

"My hero!" Eddie exclaimed and kissed his cheek.

"What were you doing?" Steve asked.

"I was trying to make dinner," Eddie pouted.

"And it was toast?" He asked.

"It's the only thing that I really know how to make," Eddie muttered. "I want to do something nice and then tell you about how I got a job at Thatcher's Tire. Also, I lied. Hopper told me Jason's friends had been dealt with a week ago, and our house had been ready for a while, but I told Wayne that I really like living with you so it's really his house. I just wasn't sure how to bring it up with you."

"Well, it's a good thing that you didn't burn our house down," Steve said. "And you're lucky that I got our favorites from Ruby's diner. Let's eat, then clean up the kitchen, and after dinner, we can read more of the book."

"Can I read it to you this time?" Eddie asked, and Steve smiled at him.

"Yeah. Hold on. I have to go make a phone call," Steve said.

"To whom may I ask?" Eddie asked.

"Robin!"

A couple of weeks later, the 'earthquake relief fund' rolled in for everyone involved. Eddie fought with Steve on using some of his money to take him out to Enzo's.

"Come on," Eddie said. "I want to treat my husband. . . Please?"

"And you're okay with people seeing us there?" Steve asked.

"Yeeess, are you?" Eddie asked.

"Okay then, but we're going to have to wear something nice," Steve said.

"You're lucky that I went shopping today," Eddie said.

Steve came downstairs and saw that Eddie had finished getting ready first. He wore a tight red blazer, black jeans, and a black button-up that Eddie left quite a few buttons undone. His red guitar pick stood out against his pale skin. His hair was in a low bun with a few hairs framing his face.

"Oh, yeah, I'm definitely putting out tonight," Steve said without thinking, but Eddie just laughed and took his hand.

"Come on, big boy."

Enzo's was crowded tonight, which was a good thing for Steve and Eddie. They sat in the back next to a window. It set off away from the other people, which is exactly what they asked for.

"So, we finally finished the book," Eddie said coyly as he sipped his wine, and they waited for their food.

"Holy shit, I was not expecting it to end that way," Steve said. "I mean the real reason that King Thomas tried to take Edmond's crown and daughter. . .God, no wonder it was at the bottom of the bin at the thrift store marked do not read."

"I guess that person was against burning books," Eddie cackled. "I just hope there's going to be a second book because holy shit, that ending. Maxwell the pirate deserves better."

"We should make Robin read it so she can share in our misery," Steve said.

"Definitely," Eddie smirked, and they clinked their glasses together.

"I'm glad Edmond worked things out for both kingdoms. He's happy, and I know that he would do anything for his daughter even if it meant helping out Maxwell," Steve said. "I definitely like Edmond."

"I don't know, I kind of like King Thomas and his fancy hair," Eddie said.

"He was an asshole," Steve said.

"Yeah, but he had good reasons," Eddie said. "I'm just glad Edmond finally decided to stop running away."

"I did like that Thomas decided to stop pretending to be someone he's not," Steve said.

Steve reached across the table and took Eddie's hand in his, rubbing his thumb across Eddie's hand.

"You know, you look good tonight too, Stevie," Eddie said.

"Well, you did say you like me in yellow," Steve said.

"Aww, you wore it just for me?" Eddie said.

"I'd wear anything for you," Steve said, and Eddie opened his mouth. "Within reason."

When their food came, they switched back to talking about the book again until they were done with their dinner.

"Do you want to order dessert?" Eddie asked.

"Uh, actually, can we have dessert at home?" Steve asked.

"Sure, whatever you want, Stevie," Eddie replied.

As soon as they walked through the door, Eddie sped off into the kitchen and started digging through the freezer.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked.

"Looking for dessert, duh. Ooh, we still have Rocky Road left!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed laughing.

"Ooh, but we have double chocolate!" Eddie said. "Which one do you want?"

Steve sighed and put the ice cream back, closing the freezer. He grabbed Eddie by the hips and lifted him onto the counter, stepping into his open legs.

"Eddie, when I said that I wanted dessert at home, I meant that I wanted you," Steve said.

"Ooh! Oh!" Eddie said, pausing and staring at Steve. "I don't know what to do next."

"Well, I think this is the part where you tell me whether you want me or not," Steve said nervously.

"Oh! Yeah, I fucking love you," Eddie said, blushing. "I actually wanted to give you something."

He pulled out a box from his pocket and opened it. Nestled inside were two silver rings, bats wrapped around the band.

"What's this?" Steve asked.

"Well, Steve, they look like rings to me," Eddie replied.

"Alright, smart-ass," Steve said. "I mean, what do they mean?"

"I want this to be real, like really real. You know, like a real marriage. I mean, as real as it can be. I still want you to keep the ring that I gave you, but I made these rings because I thought they'd be cute as wedding rings. I know it's been like six months, and we haven't dated at all. Plus, it would be illegal, so it probably wouldn't be all that real," Eddie rambled.

"I'm so tired of dating. I've dated, and I don't want to date anymore. I think that I knew that as soon as you pushed me against the wall of that boathouse. I love the rings, and I love you. This marriage might not be legal, but it doesn't mean it's not real. A real marriage means something to both of you. It's a promise that grows old with you both," Steve said. "A piece of paper, a pair of rings don't mean anything until you make it mean something."

"Have you been secretly working on wedding vows?" Eddie asked. "Because holy shit, so much better than mine. All I can think about is how much that I want to be with you forever."

"That's pretty good too," Steve said.

Steve grabbed one of the rings before slipping the ring onto Eddie's finger before letting Eddie do the same with him. Steve cupped his face and kissed him deeply. Eddie gripped his hair at the nape of his neck and wrapped his legs around Steve's waist as Steve gripped his thigh. In a flash, Steve picked him up.

"Woah!"

"It looks like I was right. I am putting out tonight," Steve smirked.

"You are not carrying me up the stairs like this," Eddie said.

"Okay."

Steve moved him over his shoulder so that way Eddie was looking directly at his ass.

"Oh, yeah, this is a great view," Eddie said.

A little while later, they were both naked and covered in sweat. . .completely exhausted from consumating their batty union. Steve was smiling at the ceiling, and Eddie watched as the smile fell from his face.

"Watchya thinking about, big boy?" Eddie asked.

"Robin," Steve said.

"Oh God, is this marriage over already?" Eddie asked.

"No! She's going to kill me! We were supposed to have a double illegal wedding!" Steve exclaimed.

"Oh, that's good. I thought I was going to have to explain to you that Robin's a lesbian," Eddie said.

"I know she's a lesbian and I know that you know that I know that she's a lesbian," Steve said.

"Look, if she wants to get married one day, then we'll stand up beside her and whatever wife who's lucky enough to marry her," Eddie grinned. "If you want to have a ceremony, that is."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I always knew Robin was a package deal," Eddie said. "Besides, I would be an absolute failure of a soulmate in law."

"I love you," he said.

"And I love you, Mr. Munson."

A FEW MONTHS LATER. . .

Robin stormed into the Harrington-Munson Castle, Vickie following behind her. Eddie and Steve were lounging on the sofa watching TV.

"Excuse you, how do you know we weren't going to go upstairs and fuck?" Eddie asked.

"Please, it's Saturday," Robin said. "Saturday mornings are for cartoons."

"How do you know we aren't thinking about trying?" Eddie asked.

"For a baby?" Robin asked. "Is there something you want to share with the class, Eddie?"

"Yeah, if Steve is determined enough, I think he could get anyone pregnant if he wants it that badly," Eddie said.

"So, you think that if my best friend is baby crazy enough, he can just look at someone and get them pregnant with the power of his mind?" Robin asked.

"Yes!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Yeah, sounds about right," Robin said softly.

"Well, wouldn't that mean that you wouldn't even need to have sex to get pregnant?" Vickie asked.

"Shit," Eddie cursed. "You're right."

"Robin, why are you here?" Steve asked.

"Why did you make me read this book?!" Robin asked, holding up the Witch and the Pirate's Heart.

"I read it too! It was really good," Vickie asked.

"THOMAS AND EDMOND WERE GAY FOR EACH OTHER AND THEIR FUCKING BREAKUP NEARLY CAUSED A WAR! AND IT ENDS WITH MAXWELL IN A COMA!" Robin yelled as she collapsed on the floor. "Steve, why the hell did you make me read this book?"

"They're bisexual, actually," Vickie corrected, and Robin glared at her girlfriend.

"And Maxwell turned out to be a woman! Holy shit! And Eleonora realizing she still has feelings for Maxwell regardless of their gender. . . Holy shit! Maxwell needs to wake the fuck up!" Robin exclaimed. "Who the fuck is this author? Who is Christopher Quinn? Is there a book two?"

"Yeah. We tried to find anything about the other, but it didn't even say where it was published or when," Eddie said. "We looked through dozens of dozens of bookstores."

"Seriously?" Vickie asked.

"Maybe it was sent from the future because that sex scene between Veralyn the elf and her pixie girlfriend, River, was pretty detailed," Robin said. "It was a head of its time."

They all sat around the coffee table, talking about the book and debating it's origin. Meanwhile, amongst the trees behind Steve’s house, a man popped out of a portal and began searching the ground. He looked suspiciously like Eddie, but older and with shorter hair.

"Goddamnit! I know I put that book somewhere! Oh, Steve is going to kill me!"

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pricelessemotion · 1 year

Text

I’m such a fool | S. H.

part one part two

Summary: steve has his own confession to make. you’re not sure how to take it.

Pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

Warnings: language, angst with a happy ending, alcohol, underage drinking (reader and steve are both 20), friends to lovers, little women “you’re being mean” reference

Word count: 1.7k

Notes: part two of the linger duology but can be read as a stand-alone. pic is not mine all creds to the owner!

masterlist

—

“What are you doing?”

You’re currently cradling Steve’s face in your hands, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. The droplets of perspiration at his hairline are indicative of a typical day in Family Video, where the AC doesn’t work and neither do the employees.

“Making sure that you’re not sick.”

Steve murmurs a sound of confusion as you take your hand away and dramatically wipe it against the bottom of your vest. It’s been a slow day, the customers few and far between. On days like this you’re normally in the back, sorting through new shipments and cataloging them. Instead, you’re leaning against the counter and looking at Steve like he’s grown two heads.

“Two very pretty girls just walked out the door without a failed pick-up line or a signature smile. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” You ask, your brows furrowing in faux concern.

“Oh, fuck off.” He waves his hand in the air as if swatting away an annoying fly and turns to look down at his clipboard so that he doesn’t have to look you in the eye.

If Steve is being honest with himself, he hasn’t felt in the flirting mood lately. As much as he has pretended to be normal since your confession, he hasn’t been. In fact, Steve feels like all he has been doing is pretending. Pretending like he doesn’t notice the way your hair smells like coconut shampoo every time a scarce summer breeze pushes the scent in his direction. Pretending to sort the returns while you sit behind the counter reading a weathered copy of a romance novel he can never remember the name of. Pretending to curse the lack of AC in the store, when really he’s grateful for it because it means he gets to see you in as little clothing as possible.

Yeah. Steve’s gotten real good at pretending lately.

What he doesn’t know is that you’ve gotten real good at pretending too. You try to ignore the relief that settles over you at the fact that Steve seems to be in too weird of a mood to flirt. Hoping to lift his spirits you cast a sidelong glance at him.

“Are you doing anything tonight?”

Steve doesn’t even know why he decided to come to this stupid party. Actually, he does. The reason standing right in front of him, wearing a mini skirt and nursing a red solo cup of whatever the hell was in the punch bowl in the kitchen.

Robin’s arm is slung around your shoulder, the two of you wrapped up in your own little world when suddenly the song changes. You’re pulled out of the kitchen, hand in hand with your best friend as she slur-screams I love this song. You begin dancing together, albeit haphazardly, in the middle of the living room. Usually this is the part where you would turn around and beg Steve to join you, but he’s still standing in the doorway of the kitchen. You’re shining so bright tonight that he’s afraid if he gets too close he might get burned.

He sighs and looks down at the cup in his hand. It was more for show than anything because he promised to be the designated driver tonight but, god, if he didn’t wish he could drink right now.

The sliding glass door opens with little resistance, his drink forgotten on the kitchen counter. As he steps outside and sits down at the edge of the pool, he curses himself. Since when did he become this guy? He used to go to parties all the time. He used to have fun. Instead, he’s the guy who isolates himself and sits at the edge of the pool while letting the girl of his dreams dance the night away.

The door opens again and he hears the melodious sound of your laughter. You shut the door quietly, but the sounds of the party are only ever so slightly muffled. You’re still giggling when you join him, the slight sway of your walk giving away the depth of your inebriation. Clumsily, you drop onto the ground next to him and gently nudge his foot with the tip of your converse.

“What’s on your mind, Stevie?”

The nickname sounds easy coming from you.

“Where’s Rob?” He’s avoiding the question and he knows it. He hopes that you’re too drunk to notice.

“Vickie showed up. I thought I’d give the lovebirds a little alone time.” You give him a thoughtful look. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He huffs. He should’ve known that even in the state you’re in that you would see right through him. You’ve always been able to see right through him.

You let the silence hang in the air while you drop your head back and trace the constellations in the sky. You’ve gotten as far as Orion when he finally plucks up the courage to speak again.

“I think you know what.” He says it softly, as if the tone of his voice could ever cushion the blow he’s about to deliver.

The first look you give him is one of confusion. You’re still thinking about Orion and the seven daughters of Atlas and Pleione. The second look you give him is one of betrayal. A million responses run through your head. Some are angry. Some are spiteful. Some are, annoyingly, full of hope. Shaking your head, you decide to go with the simplest option.

“Why?”

“I think you know why.”

But that’s all that Steve does. He thinks. He thinks about your incessant need to always have a paperback in hand. He thinks about the mixtape that’s been on repeat in his car since you gave it to him. He thinks about the way your lips might feel on his. He thinks about how you might react to his confession, but he doesn’t know. You’ve always been able to read Steve like an open book. He still struggles to know what page you’re on.

Maybe it’s the moment. Maybe it’s the alcohol flowing in your veins. But the words flow out of your mouth as easily as the spiked punch flowed in.

“You’re being mean.” Tears begin to collect on your lower lash line. You lift your head and blink as if trying to will them away, but they fall down your cheeks anyway. Steve wants nothing more than to cradle your head in his hands the same way that you did that morning and brush them away. He doesn’t. His hands stay firmly planted on the ground.

“Baby-”

“Don’t.” You begin, your voice low and threatening.

You struggle to stand up because your entire body is shaking with anger. Or hurt. Sometimes one disguises itself as the other and you can’t find it in yourself to figure out the difference. Not when he’s looking at you like that.

“What am I? A last resort? You worked your way through the entire female population of Hawkins and thought you’d settle for a sure thing?”

“Hey-”

“Do you know how many girls I had to see you flirt with? How many dates I had to watch you go on?” You cringe at the hurt filling your voice and want anger to come back and take its place.

Steve tries to cut in again but you don’t let him have the chance. He may have been the one who started this conversation, but you were sure as hell gonna finish it.

“You don’t get to do this to me. Not when-” The tears are making your voice sound watery and garbled in a way that you despise. “Not when I have spent the past year of my life loving you.”

Steve is mentally kicking himself because he really needs to stop going to parties and letting the girl he’s in love with get drunk and break his heart. Once is bad luck. Twice is a pattern.

But against all odds you’re still standing there. The mascara you had so delicately applied earlier now smudged. Steve doesn’t know if you’re shaking from anger or from the cold but he shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders anyway. You don’t push him away or storm off and leave him in the dust. Instead, you trace the constellation of moles on his neck until eventually you’re looking into his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to figure out and I’m sorry that my timing is awful.”

You take a moment to really look at him. The alcohol that once clouded your judgment is long gone. It seems to have been swept away in the flood of your argument, taking the anger and hurt along with it. It’s been replaced by something lighter. Something that feels a lot like hope.

“I’m sorry too for, uh, basically calling you a whore.” Steve laughs and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your features.

“I kinda deserved that. I swear I’ll do everything in my power to make it up to you. You deserve the world. Hell, you deserve the entire universe and-”

When the two of you finally kiss, it’s something akin to a stellar collision. Hands desperately grasping at each other as if afraid you might slip from the other’s fingertips. The muffled sounds of the party, the chirps of the crickets, the slight gurgle of the pool filter all fade into the background. There’s nothing on your mind, only Steve. Steve. Steve.

Once you remember that breathing is a thing, you pull away and laugh at how Steve whines at the loss of contact and chases your lips. You press your forehead to his and close your eyes, toying with the hairs at the nape of his neck. He hums appreciatively, arms circling your waist to pull you ever so closer.

“You’re a fool, Steve Harrington.” You say, still trying to catch your breath.

The smirk that graces his features is nothing less than devilish. He uses the pads of his thumbs to wipe at the tear streaks that have since dried, cradling your face as if it were the most delicate thing he had ever touched.

“I’m a fool for you.”

—

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

taglist: @freezaz123

#steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #mimi wrote ✍️#the linger duology #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things

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avelera · 1 year

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Genuinely curious, in GS what are some of the reasons Dream starts falling for Hob? In the beginning he’s more open to talking about his grief and relating to another human being, why is that? I do absolutely get the answers of this from the fic I’m just interested in hearing your thoughts 💖

Ooh, thank you, Anon, this is such an exciting question! Consider this an official "Giving Sanctuary" Behind the Scenes look!

Let me just quickly get the Doylist reason for Dream being so in love with Hob from the beginning in GS out of the way first:

I had, at that point, seen a lot of fics where Hob has the uphill battle of wooing Dream and/or Dream spent most of the fic coming around to the fact he was in love with Hob. Which makes a lot of sense! Dream is very closed off with his emotions and in denial about so many things about himself. There is a lot of evidence for a read that any relationship between Hob and Dream is going to require Hob to continue to be the emotionally open one and slowly chip away at Dream's reticence and denial of any and all emotion.

But it's been done. It's been done by really heckin' good writers so around ch. 2 of writing GS I had a discussion with my incredible beta reader @thornfield13713 (without whom this fic would simply not exist) and the outcome of the conversation was, "Hey, what if Dream did know that he's in love in this fic? And what if Dream fell head over heels with Hob in 1689 right there at the White Horse and acted upon it?"

I was so excited and amused by the idea I couldn't resist going with it! Further discussions with amazing people like @fishfingersandscarves made me even more convinced of the hilarity of a fic that extrapolated on Dream's heart eyes in 1689 when Hob says he has, "so much to live for," to full on teenage crush territory, doing the Dream equivalent of giggling and twirling his hair. Why? Because Dream is sadness-sexual and Hob is suddenly (after a bath) hot to him! He has this long romance novel cover hair, an open shirt revealing his manly chest hair, and an air of tragedy about him which was catnip for Depression of the Endless here. (Fishy did some HILARIOUS doodles while we were brainstorming this!).

And the thing is, there is evidence for this version of Dream! Dream goes from zero to a million with Nada, the whole relationship lasts about a day I think?? So there's actually plenty of evidence that once Dream knows he's in love, he's not actually that repressed! He goes for it! Even with Alianora they basically get introduced and he says more or less "if we're to be lovers, I'll give you my heart, my constancy, and my love forever". They just met!

When it comes to love, Dream in the comics is actually quite a romantic! To the point where the popular fanon that he doesn't know love feels like might be a disservice. If anything (and this appears in GS) the reason he's hesitant to be demonstrative at first with Hob is because of traumatic events in his life like Nada?

So I asked myself, what if Dream does actually have a modicum of a sense of responsibility to not repeat that mistake that he made with Nada, and so he knows he's in love with Hob but hesitant to give in until he can be 100% sure he's not going to hurt the person he loves again, and then he's hesitant because, like a self-aware adult, he realizes that Hob feels beholden to him for getting him off the street and so Dream resolves to let Hob make the first move? (Made all the more hilariously tragic because Hob decides to let Dream make the first move because of his fears of losing the friendship.)

So anyway, that was the reason I wanted to write a Dream that knows he's in love from the outset BUT, let's dive into the Watsonian, in-universe answers to your question because I adore talking about it so much!

So in the fic, Dream's original, "Oh," moment where he fell in love was the one we see, in my opinion, canonically on screen in the show when Dream gives Hob that ridiculously soft and wondering look when he says, "Death is a mug's game, I've got so much to live for."

However, the actual divergence point from canon, the reason Dream doesn't just feel the first soft stirring of An Emotion towards Hob but then still just fucks off for another hundred years, is the decision to prolong the night by going to another pub but more importantly, it's when Hob offers his sympathies about Orpheus.

But even then, when Hob offers his sympathies? Dream doesn't offer almost anything back! In fact, if you read the dialogue closely, Dream is pretty much entirely focused on himself and only himself during that entire conversation, up until the very end when he offers Hob a place to sleep for the night.

Thing is, Dream in GS is the softest I ever write him, but he's still not a great person in Ch. 1, he's actually incredibly selfish and self-centered, and there's a very deliberate reason for that! This ties into your question of exactly how and why Dream falls in love so hard and fast with Hob there. Let me explain:

It's my belief that one of the most insidious aspects of grief and depression (clinical or otherwise) is how it isolates us. But more important, how it makes us turn inward, which exacerbates the isolation. Dream has been mourning the death of his son at this point for give-or-take 2,500 years. He's marinated in that grief. He has turned inward, and selfish, and cold, and cruel because of it. The pain is real but it's a pain so intense to him that it makes him completely blind to the pain of others. It has arrested his development, his maturity, and his empathy for others entirely, so he is effectively operating at a teenage or early 20-something emotional level ever since. He sees slights everywhere, he thinks subjectively if not objectively that no one has suffered as profoundly as he has. He feels abandoned by his family and he feels like no one in his life understands his grief.

Some of this is based in fact! He is, in fact, the only Endless to have a child they care about (that I know of so that is canon to the fic) so none of his other siblings could really empathize with him or offer him more than platitudes.

Even worse, Destiny, Destruction, and Death, his three favorite siblings arguably, all directly or indirectly led to Orpheus's death, with Destruction encouraging him to go to the Underworld after Eurydice, Destiny warning Death not to offer the boon of Super Immortality, and Death abiding by Destiny's recommendation since he gives those so rarely. But not only did they not stop Orpheus they didn't warn Dream so he could take this moment more seriously and possibly intervene.

Now, would Dream have listened? Probably not! But with 20/20 hindsight, his bitterness was compounded by the (likely incorrect) belief that if he had just known everything that Destiny, Death, and Destruction knew, he could or would have prevented Orpheus's death. Or at the very least if he had known that he was about to lose his son, and there was no stopping it, he could have at least enjoyed their final days together. Of course that would have altered events significantly but it's also very unlikely Dream would have altered his own actions even with the knowledge that Orpheus was going after Eurydice. Dream's conclusions that he would have taken action if he'd known everything (except that Orpheus was doomed) are illogical thoughts based on grief, not objective reality or self-awareness, but they've compounded Dream's bitterness and isolation towards his own family before the fic begins, unlike in canon, where Orpheus still being a severed head means Dream's grief and blame is much more complicated and thus intractable.

Likewise, Calliope also officially broke ties with Dream as a result of his coldness towards Orpheus after he met Eurydice and his failure to prevent Orpheus's death (viewing Dream much the same way Dream views his siblings' lack of intervention) so Dream was truly alone and stewing with his grief for millennia.

Enter Hob Gadling, who recently lost his son. Who, counter to everything Dream expected after seeing that Hob had a son and a wife he loved in 1589, has not given up on life the way Dream has. Dream is actively wishing to die in GS as a result of Orpheus's death and only held back by the weight of his responsibilities, which I think is pretty much canonical to the comic series.

Now, I've ranged far from my point, but to swing back to it: Dream is still in a very selfish and inward-facing place in Ch. 1, even as he helps Hob. To be clear, he doesn't fall in love for Hob's sake in that moment, he falls in love very narcissistically with the projection of his own grief in another person. When Dream says, "[I'm not weeping for you] I'm weeping for myself," he's telling the truth. He sees in Hob's misery and rags and suffering the outward projection of how Dream feels every single day since Orpheus died. He sees in Hob's isolation how Dream feels after being (he feels) abandoned by Calliope and his siblings. Dream feels like he's looking in a mirror at himself right after Orpheus's death (absurd as that might from a material angle given all the power he has vs. Hob's destitution). He's not quite taking Hob out for another drink at that moment, he's taking "Dream the Day Orpheus Died" out for a drink and only slooowly over the course of the conversation begins to see Hob for his own sake, not just a reflection of himself.

Arguably he didn't invite Hob out to the Penny Whistle to help Hob but because he's having feelings for this reflection of his own pain. He's still too depressed and inward-facing to really be cognizant of Hob's grief, he only sees his own, so being with Hob is still a form of sort of wallowing at this point.

But the thesis of the story, and indeed, my own emotional thesis around grief and depression and healing, is that helping someone else begins to break down those walls. Not entirely, but it's a start. Hob's moment of selflessness, when he takes a break from his own grief to care for Dream, is the first crack in the ice that's encased Dream for millennia. Taking care of Hob over the course of the story helps Dream widen that gap and, in the course of their conversation at the Penny Whistle, just enough light breaks through the grief that has buried Dream that he begins to see that he has been buried by it.

Up until this point, Dream has just sort of... accepted that his pain and grief are just the world itself. It's just the way of things. The fact that other people like Hob (when he's enjoying life, unlike 1689) can't see that the natural state of the world is pain and darkness make Dream think those people are stupid. It makes him hate them and himself and life. This little crack of light that Hob allows in by showing Dream empathy illuminates for Dream that there is something out there besides his pain. That maybe he is wrong that there's nothing to life but misery. Maybe he is, in fact, trapped by his grief. Maybe, in fact, his grief isn't the truth, but has actually blinded him to the true state of the world around him.

That is really the moment Dream goes from fond of Hob and nominally invested in his survival to head-over-heels, Nada levels of love-at-first-sight obsessed with Hob in an instant. And it's still selfish! I'd argue his love for Nada was selfish in a similar way, falling for someone who made him feel things.

But Dream realizes he's in love! He realizes it the moment that Hob takes his hand and won't let him go and tells him he cares if Dream is there in 100 years and he cares not in any sort of transactional way other than it makes him happy to know that Dream is out there, hopefully happy as well, and that it's an entirely selfless love of Hob's or that it's selfish insofar as Dream's simple continuing existence gives Hob hope of a familiar face every century. He tells Dream, whose parents treated love as transactional at best and unwanted at worst, that Dream doesn't have to do anything for Hob to continue to wish the best for him. Nothing is expected! In fact, Dream didn't have to do anything in the first place, even be kind to Hob, to win this love. In fact he's been pretty awful to Hob, but it doesn't matter, because Hob cares about him anyway just for being himself and being alive and being there in accordance with their agreement to meet once a century.

This is incredibly revelatory for Dream, to simply be cared about and wanted by someone who isn't dependent on him (like a subject) where he can argue that they don't really care about him, they care about his function as Dream Lord. Even Jessamy and Lucienne Dream can dismiss as caring about him because of how he fulfills his function. Which, when one is in a deep depression, can overcome the obvious facts that Jessamy and Lucienne love Dream for who he is, not just for being the Dream Lord! But with Hob, even depression can't make the argument that Hob cares about the Dream Lord and not for Dream, since Hob knows nothing about Dream's function as of yet.

It's impossible to understate how revelatory this moment at the Penny Whistle is for Dream. To have someone who understands his grief about his son, who reaches out in sympathy, who basically says he will fight God for allowing Orpheus to die and says it with complete sincerity. To have someone care and be invested in Dream without any possibility that he does so for his role. To have, for the first time, someone ask Dream if he's ok now about Orpheus's death, even though it was 2,500 years ago! Unlike everyone else, even Calliope, Hob is the first one not to assume that Dream is over it yet, or that he never felt anything at all. Hob is the first fellow grieving father to see Dream and ask him, as a father, if he is still grieving his son, and if he's going to be ok, and if he's actively suicidal about it!

This beat was based on real anecdotes I've read from parents who lose a child, how the mother is often flooded with sympathy and support, but fathers are often ignored as far as their need for support after (just one more way toxic masculinity fails men). My partner said it rang true that, as a man, no one had ever really asked Dream if he was ok after Orpheus died, beyond the initial condolences, and he's not ok. In fact, he's been actively buried in the darkest despair about it ever since!

So Dream falls in love with Hob here. Yes, it's for selfish reasons at first, that Hob finally gives Dream the sympathy he's always craved. But that selfish love of Hob for comforting him is the thread that helps lead Dream out of the dark. Then, over the course of their time together in the Manor House, that hole in the walls of his despair begins to break open even wider. Dream begins to see Hob for who he is and his good qualities. He begins to see Hob's grief over Robyn and sympathize with it for Hob's sake, not just his own. He begins to want to help Hob for his own sake, not just so Hob can say more nice things to Dream, but because he realizes he wants Hob to be happy, and that Dream wants to be happy, and that together they don't need to suffer like this. He begins to look around, finally, and see how Lucienne is afraid of his anger, though she's done nothing wrong, and that Jessamy cares deeply for him and suffers discomfort on his behalf because of her motherly love for him.

The selfish love leads him to selfless love and really, that's why it's all over for Dream with regards to Hob. He has been drowning for millennia and Hob is the first breath of air he's had. He's basically high on the first positive emotions he's felt since Orpheus died, and it's thanks to Hob.

Dream's emotions are immature as a result of that arrested development, because Dream hasn't felt anything consistently good since Orpheus died. He is, in fact, effectively a teenager! He gets a crush! He's doing the Endless equivalent of giggling and twirling his hair and complimenting Hob for pointing out blindingly obvious things. Dream's body, that he's been basically ignoring except for possibly the occasional physical release of a one-night stand, suddenly springs back to life in embarrassing ways because he's not buried in misery anymore. Dream begins to feel things, physically and emotionally, because finally someone cares about him in the way he needed to be cared about. And so he falls in love, Big Love, Forever Love, with Hob for being there, being the person he needs, for loving him the way he needs. And very fortunately, Hob is over the moon ecstatic to get the chance to shower Dream with that love, because he feels the same way in return!

This is already insanely long. Obviously I have a lot of feelings about this. But it was amazing even to me how much Dream in 1689 specifically clicked with Hob the minute Hob began to share his grief and offer his sympathy to Dream in return. After that, it was amazing I could keep their hands off each other for as long as the story did! Which was, minus Destiny's intervention, one whole entire week lol.

#giving sanctuary #giving sanctuary bts #1689 fic #sandman meta #dreamling

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yeehanfrf · 1 year

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Week 8 Recs: Middle of the Road

The Week 8 theme was "Middle of the Road," or those fics that are just long enough to spend some quality time with but not too long: 10,000 to 25,000 words. Behind the cut, you'll find the recs gathered from the Yeehan community, organized by rating and then alphabetically by title!

General Audiences

The Silences We Dare to Break by illune [15,500 words] Reccer comment: "This is an underrated gem that I feel not only Yeehan shippers but also Gabe Reyes enjoyers might like."

Once a year, Cole Cassidy is forced to face the fact that not all of his loved ones are resting peacefully in his memories. To his surprise Hanzo is willing to listen to his woes, if only for a brief moment.

Teen and Up

Autoclave by SaltCore [11,867 words] Reccer comment: "how much do you want your feelings hurt in under 12k words?"

Hard choices are a necessity in this line of work—Genji learned that years ago. But necessity doesn’t make those choices easier, especially when he has to watch someone else pay the price. He wants his brother and brother-in-arms in any state but dead, but it's a matter of Hanzo paying.

Blue Skies by helo572 [13,555 words]

A trip to Nepal sees Cassidy trying to keep him and an injured Hanzo safe when they are lost in the snow.

Mature

Foxhole Dreaming by fishpoets [18,569 words] Reccer comment: "some whump, lots of pining, and there was only! one! bed!!"

After Hanzo and McCree are ambushed on an undercover mission and McCree is injured, they need to hide out in a secret bunker that McCree knows of while they wait to be rescued. The prospect of a few days in close-quarters alone with McCree wouldn't be a problem, except for one thing: Hanzo's feelings for the gunslinger don't stop at friendship.

Frozen Doll by hunahuna_un [14,066 words]

"Hunger pulled Jesse towards the river, bringing him closer and closer to somethin' a whole lot tastier than fish. Though, as he'd immediately realize, it was a completely different kind of tasty."

Asked my partner for summary, hope you like it. xD

Story about Shapeshifter McCree & Winter Fae Hanzo.

Work of Fiction by sksNinja [12,609 words]

Hanzo Shimada is a reputable Japanese historian and a well known antique appraiser. He lives in finely decorated a single unit apartment. He keeps tabs on his unruly younger brother, and attempts to keep him in line.

Hanzo is a functioning and contributing member of society.

His weakness for Romance Novels is irrelevant.

Explicit

Crooked Stems by Interrobang [13,465 words] Reccer comment: "adorable and charming and, as he put it, 'the only strip club AU in which neither main character is actually a stripper,' lol."

Hanzo had made a life for himself, and quite frankly he was content with it. He was almost 40. He was tired from a youth spent in too many family meetings about too many political escapades. He just wanted to sit in a cold room with thousands of dollars’ worth of flowers and watch his florist business flourish.

He didn’t need anything shaking that up.

AKA the only Strip Club AU in the world in which neither of the main characters is actually a stripper. Featuring Chef Jesse McCree, Florist Hanzo, and too many innuendos.

A Man Is His Actions by etlagiapet [23,722 words] Reccer comment: "A cool take on Hanzo and Cole's first meeting! Uses the old name"

It’s been five months since Shimada Hanzo arrived at the Gibraltar base, and Jesse McCree still can’t look him in the eye without grimacing. He tries, because he promises Genji he will, but no matter how much he wishes he could forgive and forget, Jesse just can’t accept Hanzo and what he did to his own brother. He can’t tear the man away from his actions, no matter how different he is now and how long it’s been since.

Except there's more to Hanzo than Jesse realizes - more to the story of the Shimada brothers than he was privy to - and a reappearance of a mentor thought long dead throws everything Jesse thinks he knows about himself and what he believes in into chaos.

Nantaimori by ChillieBean [15,403 words] Reccer comment: "what's better than hanzo eating sushi off cass? (answer: nothing)"

It had been months in the making, and it was supposed to be a straightforward night: Be Hanzo Shimada's personal waiter, gather intel on a potential partnership with a neighbouring clan, get out without making any waves.

Cole's plans come to a crashing halt when he is asked instead to be the nantaimori—to lie naked for the duration of the meeting while Hanzo eats sushi off him.

Pine Woods by coinin [14,659 words] Reccer 1 comment: "a lovely funny fic about the duo hiding out in a curious cabin. Things get steamy, literally and figuratively."

Reccer 2 comment: "Whenever I read this, I just want to go on a winter vacation"

After a mission goes awry, Cassidy and Hanzo are forced to flee into the Finnish wilderness. Will they find shelter before they freeze to death? And more importantly, what are they going to do to stave off boredom if they do find safety?

Plan B by urgaylol [15,261 words]

Hanzo and McCree ask the age old question of "What the hell happened last night?"

Tell Me Yer Name by kylar [23,161 words] Reccer comment: "a smutty fic about blackwatch cass & yakuza hanzo"

Hanzo escapes the castle for a breath of fresh air following a particularly difficult day with the clan, and finds one in a mysterious, handsome American cowboy that instantly earns Hanzo's attention. Hanzo knows from subtle clues that his presence in Hanamura could mean trouble for his clan and himself, but that doesn't stop him from carrying on a secret affair with the charming cowboy. It's just a fling though, and he knows it will end eventually. He'll be able to put the cowboy behind him and continue on with his responsibilities and duties to the Shimada Clan. Little does he know, it won't be that easy, and the cowboy's short presence in his life will have a dramatic and devastating impact on everything that is to follow their little affair.

And that's a wrap on Week 8! Thank you so much to everyone who submitted a fic rec. Stay tuned for the Week 9 theme: "I'm Working, Here," or favorite works in progress!

In the meantime, you can also check out the Week 7 recs here or check the list of past and future themes here!

#yeehan #yeehan fic rec friday #yeehanfrf #cole cassidy #hanzo shimada #overwatch fanfiction #author: illune #author: SaltCore #author: helo572 #author: fishpoets #author: hunahuna_un #author: sksNinja #author: Interrobang #author: etlagiapet #author: ChillieBean #author: coinin #author: urgaylol #author: kylar #week 8

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astarsol · 9 months

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extra chapter - love new and old

your eyes open for a second, the sound of someone lightly snoring next to you. the movie has finished by now and your mouth is slightly dry. everything feels a little hazy as you look over. akaashi's eyes are glued shut, his lips slightly parted.

the lady sitting beside him has a few bags of pretzels splayed out on her makeshift table. when she notices you're awake, she pushes it towards you, her eyebrows rising. "take it, take it," she ushers you to grab it, "the lady left it for you and your boyfriend."

"he's not my- nevermind. thank you so much for keeping a hold of them," you smile, grabbing yours and popping a pretzel into your mouth, "he actually works with me, we're finishing a book together."

her eyes instantly lit up, her body reaching for her bag. she grabs a book, holding it closely to her body, "oh i love to read! what do you write?"

"romance novels typically, i just love writing about two people falling in love," you toss another pretzel into your mouth, the lady showing you the cover of the book. it's a classic romance, a couple kissing on the front.

she sets down the book and holds her hand close to her chest, a soft sigh passing her lips. she turns back to you shaking her head a little, "would you like to hear about my love story? bella and i have lived many lives together."

you nod, looking at akaashi to notice his eyes are still sealed shut. he has an innocent look on his face, one of peace and tranquility. you turn back to look at the lady, her all knowing eyes peering between the two of you.

"my name is gia and i've known bella since we were young girls. she had the most beautiful hair, and her eyes are such a vibrant green. our families were friends for generations and so we saw each other constantly. never ending parties and get togethers, we grew accustomed to each other's presence."

gia sits forward, her eyes searching yours, "over time i realized my feelings for her, but as you know, not everyone likes people like us. so, we kept everything a secret. we ended up getting married not too long ago. and i don't think i'd ever change my life for anything else."

you finish off the bag of pretzels, having eaten them as she spoke. her speech is slightly off, but it's clear that she is very happy with her life. with the love of her life. unconsciously, your eyes drift back to the sleeping akaashi.

his sleeping self is beautifully wonderful. a soft smile still making its way to his face, as if he is having an amazing dream. you turn back to gia, your eyes a little wide, "that's a beautiful story gia, my name is y/n. are you heading home to see her?"

"yes! she had some work thing, so i took a mini vacation. we send pictures constantly, it's so adorable," she waves her hand a little, "she'll pick me up from the airport. so, that means i gotta finish this book. thanks for talking with me, i could talk about bella forever.”

she has a glint in her eye, one of longing and loving. you nod, “of course, maybe i’ll see you around once we land. i’m sure she would do the same, gia.”

you relax back into your seat, your mind drifting to one of rest. and just before your eyes close for a second time, you can feel a weight rest on your shoulder.

masterlist

synopsis: you’re struggling to write a new book for your publishers. especially since it’s a romance novel, and you’re short on romance. what’s even worse is that your editor is terrible at communicating. so your boss sends the two of you on a ‘vacation’ of sorts. get the two of you to work out your differences and get you writing. what’ll happen to the two of you and how will your friends react through the short bursts of information you give them?

fun facts; - it’s national gf day! - it gave me an excuse to make an old lesbian lady! - yeah yeah and i wanted to appreciate akaashi’s appearance some

taglist (open): @merofvenus, @existential-traveller, @kurenix, @reveusecherie, @thechaosoflonging

#amorist duos smau #amorist duos #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu social media au #keiji akaashi x fem!reader #keiji akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji

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malon235 · 1 year

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Dreams of Romance

A #haidehya drabble

*~*~*

Alhaitham is many things, intelligent, observant, strong, dedicated. Traits of a scholar and a most reliable companion.

Alhaitham is not, however, a romantic. He doesn’t talk about his feelings, even though they are deep and sometimes overwhelming. He doesn’t do extravagant gifts, nor over the top displays of affection. That’s just not his thing.

Dehya knows that he loves her though.

It’s in the small things, the way his fingers tangle with hers underneath the table at a restaurant, the soft glances and tiny smiles when she points something out to him while on a walk, the single flower sitting on the table next to a freshly poured cup of coffee.

At first this upset her. Was it so wrong to want to be romanced like how they write about in the light novels? She never knew that this was something she wanted, living up to this point thinking that she was better off on her own, not having to deal with another person so close to her.

But when Alhaitham walked into her life, a book in his hand and a quiet smile on his face, she knew that she was gone. It was like a tsunami, how easily he consumed her.

Quiet and overpowering, he easily slipped into her heart and filled every crack and crevice her life had left on it to that point, and he did it so effortlessly.

Now it was virtually impossible to think of her life without him in it.

It took some time to fully learn what Alhaitham’s love language was, and her friends still don’t fully understand, but Dehya just smiles when they tease her about it.

She knows he loves her, just as she knows that she loves him in return. It’s quiet, but it’s strong, just like Alhaitham himself. When he gives his heart away, it’s his whole heart, with no strings left attached.

Sometimes that scares her, knowing that she holds it in her hands, but she loves him so much that it tempers the fear into something easier to handle.

The fact that Dehya, a wild mercenary from the desert, somehow managed to capture the heart of the handsome scribe of the Akademiya above all others is still something she can not quite believe.

When she gets the angry stares and poisonous words of jealousy from his many admirers, she quickly brushes them aside, and he chuckles when she tells him about them.

A quiet groan throws Dehya out of her thoughts, and the cool morning air chilling the skin of her exposed shoulder is replaced with the press of warm lips.

“You’re thinking so hard for this early in the morning,” Alhaitham whispers softly, his breath tickling her ear. His voice is rough with sleep, half an octave deeper than usual, and her toes curl at the sound of it, raw and exposed and gentle.

She turns her head to the side, meeting his bright teal eyes staring down at her, and she smiles at him.

“Good morning to you too,” she murmurs, lifting a hand to smooth out his unruly silver hair.

He ducks his head into her palm, nuzzling it affectionately before pressing a kiss against her wrist.

“Less thinking, more sleeping,” Alhaitham grumbles, laying back down and pulling her closer against his chest.

He buries his nose into her hair and squeezes his arms tighter for just a moment before sighing. With a chuckle, she pulls the blanket tighter over both of them and nestles deeper into his arms, closing her eyes and humming softly under her breath.

Yes, Alhaitham may not be a sappy romantic, but he loves her, and she loves him in return. As they fall back asleep, savouring each other on a lazy Saturday morning, she’s never been more certain of anything else.

#haidehya #genshin impact #fanfic #drabble #threadfic #fluff

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fangirl1-t · 10 months

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Meeting of two worlds

Stacy rolled out of bed, turning off the tv after what felt like an eternity. It had been three days since she stepped on the floor, and in those three days, she had binge-watched three seasons of vampire diaries but had finally had enough of the never-ending tension that Damon held with Elena. "It's all fiction." She mumbled as she greeted the sunlight with a frown. Grabbing an apple from the kitchen and opening the door to her parent's room to let them know she was alive, Stacy quietly hurried towards the library as she found them sound asleep.

Opening the door, Stacy lurked around her favorite section. It was a well-known fact that Stacy maintained her library more than her own bedroom. Sorting books into different genres on different shelves was repeated weekly when she cleaned the whole room and placed new tags on the various shelves. Obsessed with romance, half of the library consisted of classic young love novels that warmed the heart of every reader as soon as they flipped the covers, but this time Stay wanted something different. She drifted towards the recent 'enemies to lovers' collection that she bought after going through multiple book reels. The idea of angst turning to romance sparked butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

Ruffling her hand through the colors, her eyes set on a black novel that read blasphemy; not remembering why she ever bought a book with such a name, Stacy decided to give the unknown book and author a chance. "Might be good." She mumbled to herself in a reassuring tone.

Returning to her room, Stacy flipped over her blanket before settling in and starting her book.

*The Book*

Tia set her first step in London a week before her college, being accepted into her dream university when she had no hope was a glimmer in her life. And although her parents weren't entirely happy that she was moving to a completely different continent, they were proud of her. They had allowed her to find accommodation near her college, where she would live with a roommate.

She met with her landlord and got the keys to her apartment, 576 St. Barts Avenue. She put her bags in and saw a completely white and blue apartment organized to every inch; for sure, her roommate was her complete opposite. She sat waiting, deciding to look around. She went inside the first bedroom; by the way, it was kept, it seemed no one stayed in it. Being tired after a long flight, she decided to take a relaxing bath and simply sit in the tub and listen to her favorite music. Maybe that is why she did not hear the door open and kept seated with her eyes still closed. It wasn't till a man screamed OH MY GOD that she became conscious of her surroundings. "Who the fuck are you?" She asked as she tried to cover herself with her arms. "Who am I? Who are you? And what in the world are you doing in my bathroom?" "God, you must be my roommate; ugh, sorry, I didn't know this was your room." "Roommate? Oh, right, you were supposed to come today. I forgot. I'm Ambrose; nice to meet you." He said, extending his hand, and Tia stared at him with raised eyebrows. "Right, sorry." He whispered, throwing a towel towards her and walking out. She wrapped the towel around and went out to where he was sitting. "I'm Tia; sorry for the weird first interaction." She said, laughing. "No, I should apologize; I- it's just that I didn't expect anyone to be in there." Replied Ambrose, unable to take his eyes off her. "You're staring… I should go wear some clothes." Tia said, walking out of his room.

Not remembering when she fell asleep, Tia woke up to a knock on her door, "It's open." Was all she said as she got up and checked her phone. Ambrose walked in to see her room already a mess, clothes everywhere and scattered things, and nearly died. "There is food in the fridge if you're hungry, night." The door closed as he left. What was that? Tia thought to herself as she rose from bed to grab a bite before sleeping again.

Tia woke up at around 11 the next day and went out to see Ambrose already sitting there, "aren't you up early." He said sarcastically with no hint of a smile which for Tia was weird cause she always smiled. "Good morning to you as well." She said, giving him a fake smile, and grabbed a banana from the counter. Between preparing for college and fitting in this entirely different place, Tia and Ambrose hardly get through the week until Friday night.

Tia walked towards her apartment in the middle of the night, too drunk to comprehend anything. As she stepped into her room, Tia immediately went to the bathroom to throw up, but as she opened the door, she saw Ambrose coming out of the shower, "Damn nice abs." She heard herself say before she could stop. "What the fuck, Tia!" Ambrose said, wrapping a towel around his body. "Hey, you saw me. It's only fair. And why are you in my bathroom anyways?" Tia said, slurring. "This is my room. Get out." Was all he said as he dragged her to the door and closed it after. "Asshole." She said to herself as she went to sleep in her room.

When Tia went out the following day, Ambrose just ignored her and went out, slamming the door. He is so annoying, she thought to herself as she got her bag and headed for college.

As days passed and their bickering over silly issues continued, they considered each other blasphemy. "How can someone be such a stuck-up, so egoistic, mean, and conniving pathetic control freak. You think you can control everything and everyone around; well, breaking news Ambrose, the world doesn't revolve around you." Tia screamed as they stood in the living room, fighting yet again. He dared to tell her how she should live and keep her life in order. "A little organization and set of rules won't fucking kill you, Tia. Maybe they'll make you a tolerable roommate. You're annoying as fuck with all your things scattered all around; you have no schedule, no plan. It's crazy." Said Mr. I need to control everything. "Well, My liege, not everyone needs to have every detail of their day decided; not everyone is a machine," said Tia without having a better comeback. "I can't keep arguing with you. It's like banging my head on a wall." Was all he said before walking to his room. "Yes, well, I'm not dying to talk to you either." She screamed as she went to her room. God, so pathetic, she said as she sat in her bed. "I HATE HIM."

_________

Wow, Stacy thought to herself as she ended the first few chapters, which were filled with fueling the rage of the two characters who hated each other. Stacy laughed at the idea of this not being a famous book; she absolutely loved how engrossed she was. It could be a good book, or Stacy needed an escape. She began reading early when she heard that a reader lives a thousand lives. She wished to swap lives with the main characters; she wanted to feel the love they felt every time she read a quote that made her believe that someone someday would be at least a breath of life to her, even if he was all of it to her.

Refusing to put down the book, Stacy further read the infuriation and wrath that both Tia and Ambrose felt for each other. They found ways to make each other miserable by simply existing, yet the idea of nonbeing she felt would make both of them feel incomplete. Reaching chapter fourteen, after pining over the two, a fight over Tia not coming out of her room for days made Stacy finally relate to the character. Perhaps they were similar in more ways than one, she thought as she read further.

________-

"You're supposed to knock," Tia stated as Ambrose walked into her room; she stood by her closet staring at him, scared cause she had never seen him this angry. "When was the last time you went to college? Or ate food? Or stepped out of your room?" "I don't know what you care anyways," she said. "God, you're such a mess" "Well, I'm not your responsibility. You don't have to check in on me or pretend that you worry; even if I'm a mess, it's not you who has to clean it up. It's not your job, so get out." "Dammit." He said as he made his way to her swiftly and slammed his hand on the cupboard. Flinching, she looked into his eyes as he caged her between himself and her closet, his arms blocking the way for any escape. Tia thought of ducking under and escaping from between his legs, but the idea seemed too redundant even to her. "You don't see it, do you. God, you really are clueless." Was all Ambrose said to bring her back to reality before leaving the room?

Tia couldn't sleep all night; his words echoed in her mind. How he looked at her with something that felt different than hate, perhaps worse. She thought about his muscular arms and how his caramel eyes looked at her. She shook her head; in all the months of bickering, she had never realized how good-looking Tia found the man who stood a few inches above her tiny self as she was all but 5'2, whereas he stood at what seemed to be no less than 6'6.

______________

Stacy smiled, knowing what Ambrose meant when he said you don't see it. She knew that love was inevitable, yet the first glimpse of it made her happy. It also made her yearn for something similar, but she was now satisfied with fiction. Wanting to read more, Stacy got distracted right at the end when her best friend sent her a TikTok about the multi-universal theory. According to the idea that everyone knew was more or less accurate, different realities existed harmoniously in parallelism. In all honesty, it did mean that anything was possible and was happening in some dimension. Stacy imagined the idea of her living in one of her favorite books and closed her eyes to take a nap when suddenly the doorbell rang.

Finding no one at home, Stacy opened the door only to find an extremely tall guy standing in front of her, smiling. "It's you. I found you. I finally found you." He said, unable to believe his eyes while Stacy tried to remember if she knew him from somewhere. She hadn't seen him before, yet he felt oddly familiar. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?" "I'm Ambrose." The guy said, smiling just as significantly as always as Stacy stood in shock and started laughing. "That's not possible, am I dreaming, obviously I was just reading about you… I mean, Ambrose, I mean, wait, what? Who are you?" "I'm Ambrose, I just told you, and you're Stacy; you're my comfort character." Stacy stood clueless, was she on a show, was this a prank? Her brain had stopped working. "Can I come in? I'll explain everything to you." The guy asked as he stepped inside.

After what felt like hours, Stacy stood, "So let me get this straight, you, Ambrose are from a parallel universe where I am a book character, and you traveled through dimensions to meet me?" He nodded. "Great story, pal. I'd love to read it. Just sell me the book and leave cause this isn't funny. "I'm not joking; it sounds silly, but it's true. I know about your family and your pain; you don't talk to anyone at home and find solace in books; I know that you fell in love before, and I know how hurt you are right now. My universe is advanced, and we found a way to travel to our comfort characters in the instance where we are their comfort characters too. We're supposed to improve it; I'll improve it for you."

Stacy knew that it made no sense, but she wanted to see how it played out, so for the next few days, they did everything together, and before she knew it, she found herself constantly smiling in his presence. He made all the date ideas she had read in the book come true. He recreated scenes she adored from the book and acted precisely how he was written. She knew what she felt, but also knew she was scared. Going to a college party seemed like a burden, but Ambrose somehow made her think it would be good. While she enjoyed, for the first time in a while, a book scene with heartfelt confessions spiraled down the clock. Soon enough, she was dragged out of the car and driven home silently. Upon entering the home, Ambrose finally burst, "How could you do that? You were all over that guy." "We were just dancing. "You were a mess, Stacy." "Well, I'm not your mess to clean," she said, realizing how scenes from the book were turning into reality, and just as she had guessed, Ambrose slammed his hand into the closet and said, "You don't see it do you?" And sped out of her room.

Wanting to know how it ended, she followed him downstairs to where he stood in anger. "Ambrose," Stacy said just above a whisper, but he heard her. The house was silent, and he could listen to her over a crowd of hundreds if she called him out once. Without a thought, he took long strides toward her, and before she knew it, they were kissing. His hands cupping her face, Stacy leaned into the kiss and put her hands on his chest. He hugged her right after and carried her to her bedroom. Putting her in bed and tucking her in, she heard a faint mumble that she couldn't comprehend exactly as she felt a kiss on her head and drifted off to sleep.

Stacy! She heard her mother yell, "You've been asleep for hours. Get down this second." Of course, it was a dream, she thought as she walked down to her mom. Even though it wasn't real, she felt it more than she had felt. She talked to her family and simply went up to read again after a few hours.

As Stacy read the last few pages of her book, she smiled brighter than the power of a thousand suns. "I love you in every universe," said Ambrose as the book ended, and she kept it on her side table. "I love you too." She said as she stretched her arms in a happy mood, moving on to live her monotonous life.

*slam* he closed the book, finally satisfied, having read "I love you too" in his book just as his mother screamed, "Ambrose!" And he smiled, looking at the roof, remembering what he whispered to Stacy before leaving, "You're all of life to me, Stace."

#fanfic #fanfiction #fiction #imagines #love story #lovestories #stories #txt fluff #comfort #comfort character #romance #books & libraries #aesthetic #fantasy #funny #drama #cute

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wardogsong · 1 year

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[ HEADSHOT! HEADSHOT! ]

Frank Castle does not believe in vampires. In fact, given a chance, he will steadfastly and stubbornly scoff at and refute the existence of something so ridiculous to him.

This is a man of the belief that those mythical creatures of the night are confined to fiction in all it's many forms-- the silver screen, the written word, the drawn pages of comic books and graphic novels. They're the kind of thing you save for an evening of Netflix and chilling; all the better for wrapping an arm around your significant other and nibbling on their neck a little to get the evening going spicy.

The long and short of it is that he simply has no cause to believe in them as real beings that walk among us, in spite of the fact that he inhabits a very strange world that only seems to get stranger by the day. Mind you, this is a man who has helped to bring two children into the world. That had to include all the usual appointments-- admittedly, because of his service, only some of which he was there for. Still, those check-ups and ultrasounds and blood-test filled days were bound to feature questions around his and his wife's medical history. Neither of them are carriers of the much discussed X-GENE-- something that is endlessly more real to him and easier to parse and accept. That's SCIENCE. It's in the vein of passing down hair and eye colors, bum tickers, and all kinds of other physical family baggage.

As far as he knows, you can't just pass down a case of the sparkles.

Hell-- he'd more seriously consider a case of demonic possession before he ever took seriously a flash of fangs and a confession of being beautifully undying. He's Catholic like that, even when it's been an eon since setting foot inside a church. Both cases would honestly make him suggest psychiatric help first, but the former. . . the former is close to home. He BELIEVES in the former. He KNOWS a thing or two about dark attachments of the soul.

But the Lord Ruthven shit? C'MOOON-- Polidori just had a bitter axe to grind against Byron. None of those dead guys are still prancing among us. Vampires make him think of Halloween, Hot Topic, eyeliner and My Chemical Romance band shirts with striped arm warmers. Scene kids and vampires are the same thing, right??

Now, from where does this bullheaded rejection spring? It's from the smallness of Frank's world. Truth be told, he's never been one for GRAND dreams. His were always local things-- even when they were as absurd as a child's glossy and romanticized desire to be a wiseguy in the style of Michael Corleone. Frank's world used to be Bayside, Queens to Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. He never really made plans to leave it-- not by further than getting out of his parents' house and someday into his own. Such small sights were never set on the rest of the world beyond or what lived in it. His was a world of old school by-the-slice shops, creeping bodegas, car-fixing garages where he might someday work for the legit side of things.

Enlistment and eventual deployment only narrowed his world even further, despite being responsible for sending him into the cradle of civilzation. In that place all that mattered was putting one foot in front of the next, checking his corners, doing the job and surviving the day and the incompetence of the United States Marine Corps.

There were no vampires for him to meet in Iran, Pakistan, or Afghanistan.

And afterwards? Afterwards there should only have been the smallness of HOME again. Of Maria tucked into his side, of Lisa held in his arms, of Junior at his knee.

Ain't that just the kicker though? After all that-- after all that happened to him, he could BE one of them. Maybe not beautiful, but definitely undying. Except he doesn't know that.

And still doesn't feel like he has any cause to BELIEVE.

[ Tell ‘em closed case. ]

#ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏ ʙɪᴛᴄʜ sᴘɪᴛ ɪᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs sɪɴᴄᴇ '08 #. ( ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴs ) .#a study in bullheadedness #next you're gonna tell him you believe everything The Bugle prints

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nanabrainrot · 2 years

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2. The Bitch to Scratch

Summary: You hate Bruce when he’s mean.

Part 2 Dark!Bruce Wayne x Housewife!Reader

Warnings: rough sex, facefucking, cis afab reader and she/her pronouns, established marriage, misogyny, codependence, ambiguous consenting

The truth was you had let it be known that you weren’t having kids with him. Bruce was a traditional man, that was what the term could be. He wanted you home, where he knew where you’d be, you weren’t permitted to work, shit, you didn’t even need to lift a finger. But you wonder what he loved you for if not your spirit, the zest you had almost 10 years ago. You were kids and you’re not going to be a kid forever; you were bound to change as often as the weather as you grew. But in Gotham the weather was rarely other than gloomy. You didn’t think you’d be living in a sky high penthouse like you had always dreamed of and seen in the movies would leave you feeling nothing but solitude as you did in studio apartment those years before him. “Fine, don’t have babies,” he said carelessly as he nurses a glass of rum, “you don’t need to be a mom to be the perfect wife.”

You should’ve known then.

“Gghgg -“

“Quiet.”

Bruce’s hands are big, big like a bear’s paws compared to yours and you swear you could feel his calloused padded hands move against like he wanted to claw you, to mark you. His body wasn’t so broad, yet it was abrasive and you knew you could bicker with him but he could hold you down like a house cat pressing on a field mouse, right before he ate you up. You wish it was fucking eating instead.

But this is less indulgent for you and more for him. In other words: your husband is fucking your mouth like a fleshlight. Your head hanging off the bed, upside down, as you laid across the King four poster bed, back taut against these unnecessarily expensive linens. Bruce respected you as his wife, but not as his equal. It was how the cookie crumbled. You knew this ages ago and surmised you had no room to talk a decade later. It’s like you could if you tried to in this position.

It’s nice to be close, to hold his undivided attention when he isn’t beating the shit out of some weirdo at night, but you often found yourself not having the joy to feel more than used by this act of “affection.” Bruce loves you. You’re his wife. But he loves you like a pet. He loves you as a cat but treats you like a dog; you often wonder when he would rip off the bandaid and get you a kennel and muzzle. You wondered, even now, if he wished you were a dog: compliant and loyal. You were loyal, faithful to him as your husband, but the day you’d play compliant would be a cold day in Hell.

“Hghugh-“ your chest heaves as you gurgle lewdly, his cock drawing in and out of your jaw with brutality. You don’t think, don’t talk when you’re like this. You’re perfect. Your body jolts when he pinches hard on your nipples like it’s been jostled with electricity, your shaky hands frantically pushing him away for a breath, but a truly determined dog will push its limits for its own.

He should design your a dog collar one of these days. A leash maybe.

“I’m gonna cum on your face,” he says matter-of-factly, earning a whine from you. He never learned to ask things, probably from the fact everything he wanted could be bought. He was so boyish for a grown man.

His calloused pads twiddle roughly on your nipples still, his favorite fixation, as he always took a deep pleasure in yours. Perhaps you’d even call him a gentleman if he wasn’t a dick to you. Your legs cross and uncross, kicking and jolting them pathetically and uncomfortably from your head hanging off the bed, your leaky hole abandoned and probably going to remain abandoned until he comes back to bother you a-fucking-gain. Despite the soreness of your throat as his slams into it, you still wonder what page you were on. He had come to you and discarded your romance novel, some charmer on a ranch and his farm girl, maybe page 94? 98?

Thinking does you no justice, Bruce surmised. Your eyes all ready and coated in that watery mascara he keeps buying you just to see it leak. When he pulls out, you’re coughing, trying to catch your breath. You’re still breathing though, he thinks internally at your dramatic display from his commonplace manhandling. As you catch your breath, he chokes a bit, breathing a bit of his cum as he greedily looms over your shaky figure, pumps carelessly at his cock’s upper half over your face, his lip twitching as always when he came. Your face is an amazing canvas for his painting. Everyday he feels like Van Gogh. No one but him has ever gotten to use this body, this personal whore, and if he died he’d rather you dead than live without him.

The air is still as you cough pathetically, curled all cold on your black comforter, your hair and makeup soiled by his display of affection. He grins at the sight, your life led by his hand on a leash like a pet. You and him had no one but each other, like both of you were parasites and hosts at once. You sniffle meekly, glassy eyes looking up at him from laying on your belly, your elbows holding you up and your shoulders slumped in that show of defeat. You are pathetic and broken by now, but it’s okay. At least you have a husband. At least you weren’t an unmarried, soiled whore like every other Gotham bitch.

“Can I shower and wipe off your -“

“No,” he replies shortly. You don’t even wince. It was like walking out the ocean surprised you were wet by asking that. “Okay,” you replied in a shallow, hoarse voice. You’re not even arguing today. Bruce worries he’ll break his face with the grin he sports, your face all cold and hollow. “Lay on your back and we’ll go to sleep like this,” he cooes at your cum-covered form, from two previous rounds of just fucking your face. You grunt in recognition, going to slink to lay on your back and nurse your achey neck from letting it dangle off the bed. “Where are you going?” He questions at you moving to lay down. Oh. He’s playing that game.

“Lick it clean, Mrs. Wayne.” The air isn’t still because your sniffling, looking all tired and worn and sexy, sexy just like this. You move to lay in front of him across the bed on your belly again, looking at his soft dribbling cock. He had already had his fill. Despite earning no pleasure from you sucking lazily on his flaccid dick, the real pleasure Bruce had was breaking you into a correct woman. Your tongue swirled lazily around it. Suckling, sucking, lapping tearfully at him, until he hands yanks your hair so hard you yelp like a hit dog. “Thank you, princess. You can lay on your back under the covers.” You’re looking up at him and wonder if he was always this kind of man.

“Okay.”

You see, Bruce lays side to side with you, nude, with an arm around you without fail when he’s home. Both of your shoulders propped up on s nest of pillows he so graciously allowed you to choose. Your head is on his shoulder, like always. Your face still sticky with drying cum, with smeared sad black eyeliner and mascara, your hair in a sad, sloppy bun and you are so beautiful tonight anyway.

“Are you gonna kiss your husband goodnight?” He asks low, like he knows the answer. “Of course.” You sound so hoarse.

Your lips meet. Then they part. The room is black like your linens, freshly washed and smelling of cotton (and your shame). He goes to bed so quickly, his body twitching as he rests. You stay up a little later, looking out the window, searching for a bat signal. It never comes. You wake with him in the morning and only eat scrambled eggs at breakfast. When a delivery man comes up with boxes a few days later, you don’t even ask why.

You look forward to the break of day, for no reason other than you hoping to see the sun’s smile for a split second. At least one of you could smile.

#battinson x you #battinson x reader #The Batman (2022)#the Batman x you #the Batman x reader #nana writes #sin tag

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twiceasfrustrating · 3 years

Note

I'm sorry if I already requested this of you I honestly have the memory of a walnut. But can I request headcannons of the boys + dia who find out MC has an emotionally abusive husband? Like fluff with some murder maybe?

thank you

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)

Additional Tags: abusive relationship mentioned, some are a bit murdery, I don't know how to write fluff for such a situation but I tried

A/N: If you are in an abusive situation in the USA and need to speak to someone, please call 1-800-799-7233. If you cannot call, you can also text “START” to 88788. If it is safe for you, you can also go to the website directly. Abuse takes many forms, but it is always about control.

Feel free to add the numbers/contact for other countries if you have them.

Lucifer

He got upset at MC once and they flinched when he yelled and they started apologizing like there was no tomorrow. That was how he found out something was wrong. They wouldn’t say anything, but he could tell that something was deeply wrong. Perhaps he had never noticed before the formation of their pact how MC shuddered around him whenever he got upset, but now he did.

He is very careful not to yell again and when he does he is quick to lower his voice the second MC shows distress, reassuring them that he is not angry at them and would not harm them. It sounds almost hollow after how he acted when they originally met, but he means it.

There was one time MC dropped a dish on the floor while cooking and it broke, spilling hot food everywhere. They started picking up the pieces in a hurry, not even paying attention to how the hot shards burned and cut up their hands.

Lucifer was quick to pick them up off the ground and tend to the fresh injuries, all while they kept apologizing and saying that they would clean it up as soon as they could and saying they would make something else. Lucifer forbade them from doing either and cleaned the mess himself. He did that a lot. Took care of their ‘mistakes’ and cared for them. They would almost believe he wasn't the same terrifying man they had first met.

It takes a long time for MC to get used to their new relationship with Lucifer and once they do they are far more comfortable and less skittish.

He is not pressuring the story out of them. He can wait, as difficult as it is, for them to open up. However, he is no fool. He knows who is to blame, and that man should be very afraid should Lucifer and he ever meet.

Mammon

MC always spoke so well of their husband when they first met the brothers. Mammon was actually jealous and wished MC would talk about him that way. They would always say how kind their husband was and how he loved them and how he wanted the best for them. It sounded like some kind of cheesy romance novel.

Things started to get weird though when he and MC started to get even closer. He would invite them out, only to hear “I don’t think my husband would like that” or “I shouldn’t be alone with you”. It was weird the first time, but it quickly became a pattern. A very worrying pattern. Mammon knew abuse when he saw it. He was the family butt monkey and a witch punching bag, after all.

The difference is that he’s a fallen angel that is used to such treatment and, as a demon, the things done to him do very little in the long run. Humans are far more fragile though; their minds, bodies, and hearts. And then Mammon started to hate MC’s husband with a passion that could not be matched.

He cared less about making that bastard pay and more about taking care of MC. Such treatment can ruin a person, especially good people like MC. He would do anything to show them that they deserved better than that man, whatever that eventually meant.

Leviathan

He and MC have a little too much in common for his taste. It is actually almost disgusting how little self-worth they seem to have, but he can also see how that was trained into them.

They play down their worth a lot: “It’s nothing”, “It could be better”, “I failed again”, etc. They never say anything positive about themself. They are really good at picking out their flaws, but almost incapable of pointing out their merits.

It goes against everything Levi believes in, but he has to start praising them since they won’t praise themself. He likes hanging out with them, the stuff they make is nice, they are a really quick learner. It feels weird to praise someone, but it’s nice to see MC start to feel a little better about all the things they do.

Although, he also has the mild thought of showing MC’s husband that there are more terrifying things in the world than the horrors a human is capable of. After all, Levi has seen the monsters that dwell in the deep; he is one of those monsters and there is a reason humans fear the darkest depths.

Satan

There are some wonderful upsides to being the avatar of wrath. Normally, Satan wouldn't be so crass as to give into them, but sometimes humanity is just so vile that he can't help himself.

One of those upsides is a mind filled to the brim with the instinctual desire to rip and tear anything he can get his hands on to pieces. It's an instinct he fights off constantly with his centuries of training and self-discovery, but just this once he doesn't mind becoming the beast he was born as.

MC's husband squeals like a stuck pig throughout the entire night, only the winds, spiders, and Satan being able to hear and appreciate the sound. And appreciate it he does, until the screaming stops and his hands are drenched with blood.

He really needs to get himself cleaned off before he sees MC again, otherwise they will be terrified. He needs to look his best when they come running to him worried about their missing husband. It’s sad how much they worry about him despite everything.

Asmodeus

MC was always so calm and docile when he wanted to spend time with them. He didn’t really get it at first but it was easier to dress them up and take them out, so he didn’t question it. At least, not until someone (read: Solomon) not so subtly pointed out that it is unusual for someone to be so passive, almost to the point of being doll-like.

Asmo didn’t believe it at first. How could anyone treat someone as sweet as MC so cruelly, especially someone that is supposed to love them? But from that day onward, his eyes were opened up and he started to notice things.

The way they didn’t put forth their own opinions and let him take the lead on everything, how they stuck close to him when they both went out, the subtle way their fingers reached out then drew back when they liked something.

“Do you like it?” He would ask and their response was “do you?”

It was so difficult to get them to start putting their own wants and desires above what they thought he’d like. When they showed interest in something, he would fawn all over it. If they liked something, he liked it too. He would buy them things they even glanced casually at, told them they were worthwhile and lovely, anything that other man would never say to them.

He tore them down so completely, but Asmo would work tirelessly to build them back up.

Beelzebub

He is the softest man in the world, and sometimes MC just lets things slip out. He’s very easy to open up to and they don’t think about what they say. He was the first person that they opened up to about what was happening to them.

Suffice it to say, Beel was shocked when they mentioned how terrified they were for the exchange program to end. Despite everything that they had been through over the past year, they didn’t want to go back.

Beel had only felt so powerless one other time in his life. He couldn’t go with them to protect them and they couldn’t stay in the Devildom forever to stay safe. It was painfully cruel just how much he couldn’t help them.

All he could do was hold them and listen to them get everything off of their chest, dreading the day that the exchange program would end.

MC has to hurry up and learn how to summon him, because he wants to keep them safe from that awful situation. He would never allow another person it the world to hurt them again.

Belphegor

Belphie likes exactly one human in the three realms and every other one is none of his concern. Or, they wouldn’t be his concern if it weren’t for the fact that the one human he cared about was the victim of this particular instance.

He’s not like some of his other brothers. He doesn’t do comfort and he isn’t the best at torture, prefering to get everything over with quickly so he doesn’t have to expend all the extra energy. But, for such a special occasion, he is more than willing to put in the effort.

Humans really do create their own worst fears. Their minds run a mile a minute and they have the strangest way of finding how their own terrors can overpower what little defenses they have.

He may not be able to touch MC’s husband, but he can certainly return every slight against his favorite human. Long, sleepless nights wracked with unending horrors that only that man can truly appreciate.

All the while, he will gladly hold MC when their own nightmares overtake them, trying to put their mind at ease for just this moment. How he wished that his powers could control the waking world as well as their dreams...

Diavolo

“Don’t go back.” It was the first time Diavolo had brought up the idea. It was one he had been considering for a long time, knowing that it was extreme given that MC was a human and had to live in the human realm. However, he couldn’t live with himself knowing the kind of life MC would return to once they left.

The shouting, the insults, discarding everything MC liked because their husband doesn’t care for it… Diavolo would never feel right knowing he sent someone dear to him back there.

He had the means to help them get literally anywhere but back to that man. Diavolo could help set them free from that life, even if they didn’t want to stay in the Devildom. He knew MC would have the support of everyone they had met.

All they had to do was say yes and he would move the Devildom itself to get them out of there.

#obey me #dark fic #mine #request #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #swd obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #headcanon #obey me headcanons

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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

Text

Bennett: Affection HCs

I KNEW I HAD THIS ASK IN MY INBOX AND I JUST READ BENNETT’S BIRTHDAY LETTER TO YOU SO I SAID FUCK IT. I’M WRITING THIS. I MAY HAVE 2 FICS IN THE PROCESS BUT I CARE ABOUT BENNETT SO MUCH.

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Xiao Ver: Affection HCs

Bennet: Windblume Love Letter HCs

[Masterlist]

—

[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact @morthecreator @ aanne2601 @aklxojjk @fulltimeventisimp @hanniejji

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Bennett: Affection HCs

Bennett has so much love and affection to share but he’s also so shy and awkward in his delivery. It’s so endearing that you can’t help but but try and stifle your giggles lest he get more embarrassed. He just get’s so nervous since this is his first relationship and he knows his track record on luck isn’t super bright so he’s always fumbling. Trying to force his nerves away when he wants to hold your hand but as soon as he reaches out to lace your fingers, you’ll turn around, and Bennett throws his arm back so hard that he accidently pops his shoulder out of his socket. While you’re fretting over him he’s trying to reassure you that he’s completely fine and that this happens all the time. Which isn’t very comforting, he thinks things could have been worse. What if he accidently slips and drags you down with him or even worse, his pyro vision acts up and he has sweaty hands? He’s screaming internally at that.

Bennett totally reads romance novels to get a better understanding on what a relationship is like but his execution is a bit questionable. He tries to be suave and attempts to wrap his arm around your shoulder but he accidently slips halfway and he’s fallen into the fountain. But when he hears your barely contained chuckles as you try and help him out, he can’t help but feel a flutter in his chest that he doesn’t mind the unlucky accidents that happen to him if it makes you laugh. He’ll shake the water out of his hair and grin at you before he takes your hand in his and you both go back to the church to dry him off.

Whenever he sees you he has to take a couple minutes to calm his heart. Even when he’s out with Fischl and she’s talking in her special way, as soon as he catches sight of you, he’s sighing in adoration with the love-sick puppy eyes. That’s when Fischl knows she’s completely lost Bennett and you’re probably behind her. She sighs out a bit exasperated as she shrugs before she’s dragging him to meet up with you. No matter how red Bennett gets or what he’s yelling, Fischl has a death grip on him and grins smugly before she calls out your name to let you know someone’s got heart eyes for you.

While he’s extremely grateful to the Adventures guild and Mondstadt, having you beside him really hits deep. That you accept and love him despite the unlucky streak he has. You are so special in his eyes and the fact you choose to stay with him makes him sniffle a bit. Somedays he wakes up and can’t help but feel the rush of happiness he feels just being able to see your smiling face. He might get poked fun from his Dads but it’s completely worth it. It’s actually really wholesome when Bennett wants to introduce you to his family since they already know plenty about you because Bennett will literally not shut up about you.

The praise he receives from his dads and Katherine make him grin happily but when you praise him, he ends up growing so shy and pink. Awkwardly scratching at his cheek as he says it wasn’t that big of a deal just because he wants to hear you praise him more. He’s pretty hard on himself so your words really mean a lot to him. Likewise, Bennett is super optimistic. He’s your #1 cheerleader and it’s contagious adopting his positivity outlook on life. Whatever you’re interested in or wish to do, he’s fully on board and supportive.

He’s always coming back from his adventures with scraps and cuts that it really concerns you when Bennett shakes his pain away. He’s always had a head-first battle tactic that’s not easy to change in one day, so instead you ask Barbara to teach your some healing abilities or tips to try and help him out a bit. While you’re a bit clumsy and not as well-versed as Barbara. Bennett still hugs you with so much force as he exclaims he’s never felt so empowered before.

When Bennett feels sad, he’ll lean his shoulder against yours and close his eyes. Slowly moving down until it’s his head against your arm. He stays there before you reach over and place his head in your lap and slowly run your fingers through his hair. It’s a small and ordinary moment but it means the whole world to Bennett.

Bennett always keeps whatever you give him in a special pouch, from a small slip of paper wishing him luck to the small four leaf clover you gave him, it’s always on him whenever he sets out. He knows that despite his best wishes, you can’t spent every waking moment together and he doesn’t want to endanger you with his bad luck on more dangerous expeditions. He actually full on bawled when you said you wanted to join the "Benny's Adventure Team" and actually stuck around even after all the unfortunate incidents that happened. But whenever he’s far away from Mondstadt, away from you, he’ll take a small break and go through the small trinkets you’ve given to him with the softest smile as he handles them with care. They are his treasures after all.

It’s been a rather challenging adventure today. Bennett and you took on a commission to investigate a hilichurl camp on Starsnatch cliff only to run across an Eye of the Storm instead. While you both managed to defeat it, you both got your fair share of cuts from the anemo winds and the hard ground when you had to dive away from the orb crashing down. You’re silently thanking yourself for taking those lessons from Barbara as you’re trying to patch him up.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect an Eye of Storm to appear instead. I guess my bad luck is spreading again,” Bennett chuckles awkwardly to himself as he winces a tiny bit at the throb of his cuts. You simply shake it off as you try and gently place the cloth back on his cheek to wipe away the small amount of blood. You’re just happy that you both managed to get away from that monster without any serious injuries.

“Don’t say that Bennett, we defeated it didn’t we? That’s one less problem for the Adventures guild right?” you say as you smile encouragingly at him. He nods in silent agreement but his eyes rake over the cuts and on arms and knees and he can’t help feel sadden. He gently pushes your hands away from his injury's as he opens his own pouch that carries his adhesive bandages to place upon your scrapes.

“Bennett?” you question. You’re so used to the happy go lucky Bennett that this sudden quiet atmosphere looms above you as Bennett quickly returns the favour. It’s only when he takes a small moment to scan your body for anything he missed before he takes your hands in his. Rubbing small circles over your skin, whether he’s trying to comfort you or himself into speaking you’re not entirely sure.

“There’s a dream I want to tell you about. I want to find the most valuable treasure to give back to Mondstadt and get our Adventures guild to become the biggest branch in Teyvat. That way my Dad’s can take a break and we can go adventuring all over the world. We can go visit Fischl at her home or take Razor to see the ocean!” he grins happily at you as his eyes light up in such a way that it takes you a few moments to register what he’s saying. You can feel such a rush of love pour into your system at his wholesome dream that you can’t help but clutch his hands closer to yourself.

“I’ll stay beside you the entire time and I promise we’ll make your dream a reality. Benny's Adventure Team will be the greatest adventure team there ever was,” you lean forward and boop your nose against his, “But you need to take better care of yourself first mister.”

“Now come on. Let’s go home together Bennett,” you smile down at him as you stand up and extend your hand out to him. It takes a few moments for Bennett to act as he gazes up at you. The hand that’s been placed in front of him as support in so many of his unlucky incidents, covered in the bandages he carries around from the family he cares about, the hand that is still there after everything. Bennet knows he’s always been unlucky. That’s just the way it is. He’s always running on what drops of luck he can grab and live life to the fullest but right now. Even with the dull stings of anemo winds on his cheeks, the throb of new bruises he’s probably developing, he reaches out and takes your hand. He’s never felt luckier in his entire life.

---

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go gag on the sugar I just wrote. I may have strayed away from the affection hcs but I care about Bennett and his character stories cripples me. I had to re-write this so there are some issues but I’m tired. Either way, Happy birthday best boy 💕💕💕

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retvenkos · 3 years

Text

to dance among the stars | c.b.

Bridgerton - Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader, fluff requested by @musicallisto

tw: talk of marriage

word count: 1.4k

prompt: “Dance with me?”

A/N: I started writing.... forgot i had a prompt to fit in... decided to just keep going and hope for the best. i feel like that meme “it’s not much, but it’s honest work.”

Summary: (Y/n) hated dances and balls, but if there was anyone who could change their mind, it would be Colin Bridgerton.

(Y/n) laughed into the clear night air, throwing her head back in blissful happiness, unaware of the way that Colin Bridgerton looked at her - as though his whole life was in her smile. A clement wind greeted the two on their stroll, allowing the music from the nearby ball to drift toward them, a sound much more soft and inviting now that there was distance between the two and the dance floor.

“You, Colin, will be the death of me,” (Y/n) said, her words like a happy sigh, a gentle ending to her enjoyment of his presence.

“The death of you? I thought I heroically saved you from having to entertain suitors all evening,” he teased, straightening his jacket dramatically, as though they were in one of (Y/n)’s novels - the kind with epic romances and gruesome battles. (Y/n) scoffed, swatting him on the shoulder. “I am your knight in shining armor, aren’t I?”

“Well, yes—” Colin chuckled, earning a smile “—but I saved you from your mother. She’s been looking for a project now that Daphne’s entertaining the prince, is she not?”

“My mother is always looking for something.” Colin rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I won’t be properly saved until I marry some girl from the ton.”

“Oh.” Colin’s words ushered in an awkward lapse of silence that had both of them turning away from each other, taking a sudden interest in their shoes. They slowed their walk to a stop, and the breeze drifted between them, as though pushing them apart.

It was silly that something like a wayward comment could reduce them to silence, but the future lay within that statement - a future fast approaching and terrifying in its weight. The ton was designed for marriage. Here, at these balls and parties, both of them were supposed to find someone to marry - to bind themselves to another for the rest of their lives.

Another couple walked past the two and (Y/n) watched them go, disappearing into the evening - perhaps to dance among the stars.

“Well... is there someone who’s caught your eye?” (Y/n) fidgeted with her gloves as she spoke, not entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer. Colin had always been a flirt, and his romantic tendencies had always been something (Y/n) both admired and teased, and yet to know if his heart truly lied with one of them was the very thing she wanted least. Being out here with Colin - away from everyone else and anything that might stand between them - was the only thing that made the ton worthwhile. All else paled in comparison to these moments seemingly stolen from the flow of time, where they were two souls together, walking the same path for a brief while, hearts close enough to touch.

To have them be taken away would be too much of a heartache. Worse than anything she could fathom.

Colin looked at (Y/n) with his brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, (Y/n) took hold of the conversation once more.

“Perhaps Marina Thompson? She was quite popular before she fell ill. Will you be the one to ask for her hand, at the end of the season?”

“Miss Thompson is a fine girl, but... no.” (Y/n) looked up abruptly and met Colin’s blinking stare. Even when baffled there was something light about him - kind and caring - it tugged on her heart more than she cared to admit. “I would much rather wait than make a hasty match.”

“Hasty?” (Y/n) stifled a laugh, the mature word - not at all like the Colin she knew - bringing humor back into the conversation. Colin was forcing down a blush, his cheeks warming in color, like roses beneath his skin.

“I just mean I want to love my wife before we get married, instead of having to force feelings after the fact.”

(Y/n) smiled, taking a step closer to lock arms with Colin once more. “I hope you get to.”

The two resumed their walk, never going too far from the festivities to be considered improper, but managing to stay well away from anyone else. Colin admired the way that (Y/n) looked under the night sky - her beauty something wholly unique to her, and yet perfectly matched to the darkening sky. In the light of her eyes lay all the beauty of the cosmos, and in her smile lay all the thrills of the world. All the universe was captured in her essence, and Colin knew that all of his longing for travel could be satiated with a single touch; a kiss from (Y/n) could carry all of the wonders of the world, and no matter how many times he visited her touch, he would never lose his wanderlust.

(Y/n) fixed him with a look, as though they could sense that his thoughts rested with them.

Colin cleared his throat. It was one thing to care for (Y/n) - it was quite another to admit he had fallen in love. “What about you? Surely you’ve found a suitor who is the least bit exciting?”

“They think themselves exciting, if that is answer enough,” (Y/n) sighed, looking at Colin through the corner of her eye. “But truly Colin, having to entertain them is the worst part about these dances.”

"Even worse than dancing? I know you avoid getting out on the floor like it’s the plague.”

“Because when you’re on the dance floor, you’re trapped! That’s when entertaining suitors is at its worst.” Colin chuckled at (Y/n)’s words. “If I had a choice, I would come to these balls and the only man I would dance with is you.”

“Me?”

(Y/n) nodded.

Colin paused and they drew to a halt so he could better marvel at the woman before him. “If you had your choice in the matter, wouldn’t you rather avoid the dance floor altogether?”

“No,” (Y/n) said, dipping her head with a look that said she had spoken too much but was too fond of what she said, and not keen on taking it back. “I suppose I would like to dance with you.”

You’d dance with me?”

(Y/n) scoffed. “Well, I know you enjoy it.”

And around them, the world was hushed. The voices and sounds of the nearby ball were drowned out by the thumping of their hearts. Colin looked at (Y/n) and saw them so clearly, he was almost taken aback. How could one be so beautiful that their existence shamed a sky full of stars?

“Dance with me, then?”

He spoke before he acted, but it wasn’t long before his hand was outstretched, waiting for (Y/n) to take it.

“Right here?” But her hand was already resting in his, her smile bright and warm. "There's no music."

"Then come a few steps this way." Colin pulled her a few paces closer to the ball. (Y/n) chuckled as Colin tugged on her arm, guiding them nearer. He put a finger on his lips to shush her, causing (Y/n) to roll her eyes, smiling all the while. The soft lilt of music was slightly louder, here, but still distant enough that they had to be silent to hear the beat. Colin took a step closer, and although there were still enough space between them and enough bystanders around for their actions to be considered proper, there was an intimacy in the moment to make (Y/n)’s cheeks heat up.

"Is it loud enough for you to hear?” Colin whispered.

"It's perfect."

Adjusting his hand in hers, Colin led (Y/n) into a dance, smiling at her in a way that could only be described as lovestruck. His entire being was in awe of her as they spun around each other, like the moon in orbit of the earth. There was something heavenly in (Y/n)’s eyes, and when the song ended, the light in them did not fade.

“I love you,” Colin breathed, the words falling out of his mouth before he had the time to realize he had said them. It was the purest of admissions, one he hadn’t planned or even dreamed of admitting until the very moment he said it. “I-I love you,” he repeated, as though he needed to affirm the truth.

“Colin, I love you, too.” And all the world was in their smile, once again, all of the universe seemingly wrapped up in their blissful words.

Colin let out a laugh that was almost a joyful sigh, and in his eyes were stars - constellations that burned brighter than the sun. He took (Y/n)’s gloved hand and kissed it, wishing it could be something more.

“Perhaps you will dance with me more often, then.”

“At every ball we attend.”

-- taglist: @findmeintheafterglow, @prttybitchin // message me if you want to be added!

#bridgerton #colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagines #one shot #imagine #fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #fluff #reader insert #fem!reader #i wanted to make it gender neutral but then i started talking about suitors and whatnot.#and finally. a decent fic title

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legolasbadass · 3 years

Text

A Lifetime Apart [1/3]

Artwork by the lovely @gwen-ever

Relationship: Thorin x OC

Summary: Thorin meets his One while still a young prince in Erebor, but their lives are torn apart by their families and the arrival of Smaug.

Based on Alice Tynan’s interview with Richard Armitage in ‘The Vine,’ this fic was inspired by @gwen-ever’s wonderful art for the @tolkienrsb 2021!

Warnings: Angst. Seriously guys, this is really angsty, get your tissues ready. (gwen and I are not sorry lol)

Rating: T

As always, the fic can be read on AO3.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

There is a room in Erebor, a secret place where once their love bloomed in peace. All the memories of that place, where he held her and worshipped her with his lips, were forever engraved in his mind. It was there that, after months of struggling with his feelings, he had realized she was his One.

All Dwarves know that Mahal sometimes creates two of his children from the same stone, bonding them for life. Of course, not all Dwarves marry. Even those granted this honour by their Maker do not always choose to marry, for some value friendship above all other bonds, while others devote themselves to their craft. Still, as a young boy, Thorin had hoped Mahal would deem him worthy, and every night he had dreamt of the moment he would meet his One, conjuring their likeness like an artist who paints a picture and gives it life.

He had also wondered what it would feel like to meet his One. Would he know immediately? And how would he know? Perhaps it would be like in those romance novels his sister liked so much. A tender, all-consuming look from across the room, silently reassuring the other that they had found each other at last.

Perhaps due to long hours in the council chamber, Thorin had become more of a realist as the years went on. He always had to be on his guard, and he learned quickly that he could not trust his desires, for they could be manipulated by advisors and enemies alike. Romanticism was fine for artists but not for princes. The idea of a destined love became no more than a child’s fanciful dream, and Thorin grew gradually less opposed to the concept of an arranged marriage until the thought of it did not bother him at all. After all, his parents had been married for a political alliance and had still grown to care for each other. Thorin knew he would do the same.

At least, that was what he had told himself before he met Rúna, his dear Rúna.

He did not know immediately that she was his One, but from the moment their gazes met, he knew he would never again be the same. Her presence had so bewitched him that he had not realized he was walking toward her until she stood right in front of him. Then, stumbling over his every word, he had thought himself defeated, oblivious to the fact that she felt the same indescribable pull toward him.

“Thorin, at your service,” had been his first words to her.

“Rúna, daughter of Ragni, your highness,” she had replied with a curtsy, enchanting him all the more with her melodious voice.

“I hope you are having a pleasant time, Lady Rúna.” Already, he had loved the way her name rolled off his tongue.

“More pleasant than you, at least, seeing as you have found nothing better to do than stare at me from across the room,” she had replied teasingly.

Blushing furiously, he had attempted to remain formal and composed but, ultimately, had failed miserably. “I had hoped that would go unnoticed, or at the very least, that you would humour me and pretend like nothing had transpired. And just because I was watching you does not mean I am not having a pleasant time. On the contrary, my spirits were lifted by the sight of your fairness.”

Thorin could still remember the beautiful blush that had painted her cheeks. “Forgive me,” he had said hastily. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I did not say I did not enjoy it,” she had replied with the most enchanting smirk.

That was how their conversations usually unfolded. Thorin, who always prided himself on being in control and always knowing what to say, would find himself barely able to think. He blamed her low-cut gowns and the redness of her lips for that.

They soon became inseparable. Every day, they would meet in their secret room, a haven where they shared stolen kisses and soft caresses. Âzyungel, she would call him, for she, too, had accepted Mahal’s will. She had accepted Thorin as hers, and in those moments, both of them had believed nothing would ever separate them, for they were destined to be together.

Deep in the caverns of his mind, a voice called out to Thorin, warning him against the intensity of his passion, but he did not listen. He found himself thinking of her at the most inappropriate times, and she haunted the nights he wished he could spend with her. When he closed his eyes, he saw her smile and heard her laughter, clearer than the soft splashing of water against limestone rocks.

What would it be like to spend his whole life with her, his Rúna?

Thorin thought with utter surety that he would soon know when they announced to their families their intent to wed. At first, everyone was overjoyed. Rúna came from a wealthy and respectable family, so the king had no objections to his grandson’s choice — not that any of that mattered to the couple. Ale and Dorwinion wine flowed freely as the news travelled through the mountain. The prince had chosen his princess.

Thorin and Rúna welcomed their families’ approval, but they secretly longed to be alone once more. When at last they found themselves in the comfort of Thorin’s chambers, they drank some more wine between languid kisses, committing the moment to memory. Fingers braided hair then caressed the skin they hastily revealed, their cheeks tainted with the soft glow of love.

That night, like their hearts forever bound, their bodies became one. Thorin was gentle, attentive to her every need, and even afterwards, he continued to bathe her in tenderness, scattering kisses all over her skin as they murmured promises of eternal love to each other, bodies entangled.

Rúna fell asleep to the soft lullaby of his heartbeat beneath her cheek, and though she never doubted for a second his sincerity and devotion, those promises were never fulfilled.

Rúna knew they should have been patient, and although she was usually very sensible, she had not known how to resist her handsome prince, especially not when his body had promised her glorious passion, now and for the rest of their lives. Besides, it was not as though premarital relations were unheard of. However, princes had to follow much stricter rules. And these rules had been carelessly ignored. And as the days went on, Rúna knew she would not have the luxury of keeping their transgression a secret, for inside her bloomed the product of her and Thorin’s love, but also the cause of their demise.

Even if it had not been for her growing belly, her morning sickness and alarmingly fluctuating moods would have given her away. And they did. She had never seen her parents so furious, and their disappointment pierced her heart. Her father shouted about her stained reputation and their ruined bloodline, leaving her in tears as she tried to scramble away in search of Thorin even as she knew it was hopeless.

She knew they would separate them.

King Thror, with the support of Thorin’s parents, banished Rúna from Erebor, never to see her beloved again. She tried to fight them, indignation festered inside her like a poisoned wound, the unattainable promise of Thorin’s love shattering her heart into a million pieces, but it was hopeless.

They did not inform Thorin of this, for it was their firm intention never to let him know about the bastard child. Instead, they told him she was bedridden while they conjured up a more permanent plan. And so, unaware that his One had been taken from him, Thorin brought flowers to Rúna’s door every day. He hated every moment he was forced to spend away from her — it felt unnatural — but he consoled himself by thinking that they would spend their whole lives together.

Then the dragon came.

Thorin had been out hunting in the woods with his siblings when a strong wind began to rattle the treetops. Then a roar like thunder split the sky, and the blood of Thorin’s veins froze when he heard a shout from afar.

“Dragon!”

Rúna.

Without so much as a glance at his companions, Thorin bolted toward the mountain, fear clogging his throat.

Refusing to believe this was real, he did not even stop when the gates loomed above him, riddled in flames, but the screams piercing his ears grounded him to the bitterness of reality. The air was wrought with the stench of burning flesh and the sorrow of a broken people. All around him, children cried in fright, and mothers wept while the distant ringing of useless steel announced their defeat.

No help came from the Elves that day, nor any day since; a betrayal Thorin never forgot. Even if there had been survivors still clawing for breath inside the mountain, they had no means to reach them.

Rúna.

Thorin searched for her everywhere, shouting her name until his lungs burned, but when the moon appeared, and she was still nowhere to be found, Thorin knew it was hopeless. Grief crashed over him like a hurricane.

He had lost her.

He wanted to tear the sky open and demand retribution from Mahal himself, but all his remaining strength he used to remain on his feet. He had to be strong for his people — what remained of them. His family had miraculously survived, but even that could not have filled the gaping hole where his heart had once beat.

Rúna, his dear Rúna. The memory of her lips against his turned to ash in his mouth. When he had last kissed her and held her, he had done so thinking he would have a lifetime to keep loving her. But she was now no more than a memory.

He forced himself not to think of that, for his people needed him now more than ever. Only once he was finally alone did he let his tears run free, and all through the night, he sobbed into his pillow, his only comfort the memories of their secret room, untouched by fire and blood. Thorin held onto those memories all through the years, never forgetting, never forgiving.

—

Khuzdul translations:

Âzyungêl: Love of Loves (used here to refer to the Dwarven belief in a single, destined soulmate)

Taglist: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @mcchiberry @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

#trsb21 #tolkien reverse summer bang #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #thorin fanfic #thorin x oc #thorin x reader #thorin x you #thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield x you #a lifetime apart

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interact-if · 3 years

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Day 2 of Pride Month interviews! You know them, you love them…. give it up for Ames!

Ames, author of Attollo and Metamorphosis

Pride Month Featured Authors

“…and it was a singular, terrible thought, which burrowed itself into your mind like an engorged maggot. This was not a man nor a monster. This was a concept, an ideology, a terrible myth, which had personified itself to stand before you now.You were, to put it simply, screwed.”

After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend.

Too bad it’s never so simple.

Demo: Attollo, Metamorphosis (TBA)

Tags: cybernoir, thriller

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: Tell us a little bit about your project(s)!

Attollo is a cyber-noir horror set in a walled city off the coast of the Atlantic that’s been a victim of a nuclear disaster. After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend. Too bad it’s never so simple. Attollo is a 17+ game that deals with heavy topics and a lot of moral questioning; from cults to corrupt government, it has no shortage of monsters in the dark—both metaphorical and literal.

Metamorphosis is a crime/horror story based in the world of crime scene cleanup, where there are three simple steps: Get the call, clean the scene, and don’t ask too many questions. These are the rules that you live by under the employment of Noctua’s Crime Scene Services, and you credit them for keeping you alive.

However, after a routine house call brings forth nightmares of memories that are not your own, you find yourself pulled deeper into Noctua—a city of both monster and man—in a bid to find out the truth behind the murder of Deirdre Callow, and better yet, how her memories came to be yours. Your job mandates that you don’t dig too deep—but could this finally be the exception?

Metamorphosis is 18+ and will have explicit content; follow the last moments of a stranger to find out not only who took her life, but how this connects to the underbelly that Noctua works so hard to hide.

Q2: Why interactive fiction? What drew you to the medium?

Lmaoo, oh man. I think it really all began last summer when I first found examples of interactive fiction. I don’t even remember how I came across it, it might’ve been that I saw it mentioned in a post or I saw it as a tag on Itch.io, but at some point, last summer I began to investigate it more. I think what really drew me in was the ability for the player to control the narrative; it was like playing an old RPG, but modernized, and the fact that I could see a story unfold that was influenced by my decisions was so fascinating to me. Not to mention that IF allows so much more character depth than regular novels, in my opinion.

I’m 99% sure my first exposure to interactive fiction was through the game Crème de la Crème (a fantastic game, by the way) and I just enjoyed it so much that I went haywire for the genre. Then Temple of the Endless Night came out (another fantastic game that I’m looking forward to!), and that was really the turning point for inspiring me to give it a go. Now, almost a year later, here I am working on my own two games!

Q3: Are your characters influenced by your identity? How?

My bisexuality doesn’t have much of a major influence on the game, but I do think it contributed to the way that I view and write relationships. I figured out my sexuality around high school (I kissed a girl in high school and found out I liked it just as much as when I kissed a boy) and since then I’ve been very involved in the LGBTQ+ community of both my hometown and uni town.

I think this involvement, like being able to hear about other people’s experiences and share my own, has made me feel a lot more comfortable writing some of the characters in the game. Although Attollo and Metamorphosis both don’t focus heavily on relationships (both have murder in them, which I feel is a bit more pressing), I do keep the option for any RO’s to be romanced by anyone, regardless of gender or preference, because that’s simply what I’ve become so attuned to. In terms of side characters relationships as well, I think my involvement and my own experiences have allowed me to write far more diverse relationships than I might have, and I think that this has also allowed a more fulfilling experience for players when reading through.

I also have incorporated some struggles that I’ve faced before because of my identity into the games. For example, I and a few others have faced issues with religion due to who we are, and I incorporate this into both games. Dreamwalker, Pariah, and Sysba from Attollo all have shadows of this experience in their character origins, and Ilali and Ariston from Metamorphosis has a major point involving identity and beliefs. Both games also have undertows of ostracization and division between groups, which is also something I’ve experienced in the past. Being able to grapple these moments and control them via a narrative has been eye opening for both myself and others involved, and I’m hoping it can be a learning experience for the readers as well.

Q4: What would you like to see more of in LGBT+ fiction?

I think, now, the amount of progress in LGBTQ+ fiction is expanding at a wonderful rate. There are so many interactive fictions with options to select sexuality, select gender, select beliefs, etc. However, despite this expansion, there’s still a good deal of backlash against some aspects of LGBTQ+ fiction.

For example, as a bisexual woman who has dated men, I know there are some individuals who may not consider me a part of the LGBTQ+ because of this aspect. Not only is this incredibly disheartening, but it’s a viewpoint that I think should be educated against, and fiction is a fantastic pathway to do this. Another example I can think of is a friend of mine who identifies as asexual but is sex-neutral rather than sex-repulsed. Most people can’t believe her when she says this, and she often faces backlash for this declaration as well. This is another thing that I think that, with exposure through a medium such as fiction, can be worked on.

What I’m trying to say here is that I think LGBTQ+ fiction can be a brilliantly educational platform—if used right. Although it already teaches so much with what it has, I think having that representation of different subgroups of sexuality, of their experiences and beliefs, so people can become aware and knowledgeable of these options, is something I’d like to see more of.

Q5: What or who are some of your biggest inspirations?

Oh man, I struggled to list off inspirations because I know I have some, but as soon as someone asks me who they are my brain just goes ‘brrrrrr’ LMAO.

In terms of the games that I write and the worlds that I build, I think David Lynch and Robert Chambers are probably the two that I somehow incorporate. Attollo and Metamorphosis both have a lot of surrealist horror, which are what these two really specialized in. Shirley Jackson is also another person who inspired me a lot when it came to the writing and creation of Attollo, especially the intrapersonal relationships between the characters.

In terms of life, this is something else I really struggle to answer. I don’t really have celebrity inspirations or anything like that, but I do get inspired by my close friends and sister a lot. Seeing them go through the struggles that they face and absolutely thrive really drives me to push through my own struggles. They’re the strongest, most brilliant group of people that I know, and I consider myself incredibly fortunate that I can be a part of their lives. Not only that, but we also all collectively encourage each other to push further and to chase our dreams (as cheesy as that is LMAO) and that’s something that I think is another stroke of good fortune. I struck gold when I met them, and they’re some of the biggest inspirations in my life.

Q6: What’s a super vague spoiler for your current project?

For Attollo, I’d say ‘Home is where the heart is.’ For Metamorphosis, to quote John Berendt, ‘Always stick around for one more drink.’

Q7: Lastly, what advice would you give to your readers?

What advice would I give to you all? Oh my, I’m not exactly a wise woman here, but I’ll do my best to give you something lmaooo. I think what I really want you to walk away with, from both my stories and this interview, is that if you’re passionate about something, then share it with the world. Don’t let anyone deter your passion.

I remember listening to this painter once who commented to his friend how he ‘really liked painting’, and his friend’s first response was ‘but are you good at it?’. He then compared this to the scenario of walking; would you say, ‘but are you good at it?’ to someone who said, ‘I really like walking’? No, because it simply wouldn’t make sense, and it doesn’t make sense to say that to anyone who’s doing something out of passion.

To put it simply—if you love something, then don’t let anyone take that passion from you. I began writing these stories because I’m passionate about Attollo and Metamorphosis; I love each character, each bit of lore, and I share it with you because I want you all to enjoy it as well. Am I the best writer? God, no. Does everyone like what I write? Definitely not. But will I let this stop me from writing, from enjoying what I’m doing? Never, and I want you to do the same.

Explore your passions, embrace your passions, and let what makes you happy continue to do so

#if: events #Pride Month 2021 #pride month #queer authors #queer fiction #queer creators #interactive fiction

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