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morganski-19 · 1 month

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The One with the Child

Robin and Nancy walk into the café after a long day of work. Stopping when they see Jonathan sitting on the couch reading a book with a toddler sitting next to him, playing with a toy. They share a confused look before walking around the couch.

“Hey Jon,” Nancy leads.

Jonathan looks up from his book. “Oh, hey guys. How was work?”

“Uh, fine,” Nancy says, still confused. “Just one, tiny, quick question.”

“Whose child is that?” Robin points at the toddler looking up at them with big eyes.

“Oh, right, this is Argyle’s niece, Stella. He’s in the bathroom, so I’m watching her for a minute.”

Robin flops on the armchair. “Oh, thank God. I thought that was just a random kid.”

Jonathan gives her a weird look. “Did you think I just stole a child? What gave you the impression that I would do that?”

Robin shrugs. “Someone could have just left the child here. You don’t know. That happens. You would be surprised how many times Steve has had to stay afterschool to sit with a kid whose parent forgot to come pick them up.”

“To be fair, my mom did that a few times when I was a kid.” Nancy pulls one of the other chairs closer. “Only a few times though.”

“My mom did that too. Happens when you’re a single mom.”

Argyle comes back from the bathroom, hair braided down his back. “Hey dudes. You meet Stella?” He sits down on the couch, Stella grabbing his arm and hiding behind it. “She’s a bit shy.”

“Robin thought I stole her.”

Robin makes a high-pitched noise. “I did not. I thought you were picked by a lazy parent to be entrusted with their child. That is far different than stealing.”

“Still doesn’t make it any better.”

Robin rolls her eyes, getting up to go order a coffee at the bar.

“Which sister is Stella’s mom?” Nancy asks, trying to change the conversation.

Argyle tries to get Stella to loosen her grip on his arm but fails. “Julia. She has a job interview in the city today so I’m watching her.”

“And you brought her here?” Robin sits back down with her coffee.

“Hey, this is a family friendly establishment until seven and by then she will be back with her mom. She should be done soon to come pick her up.”

Eddie walks into the café, waving as he orders a coffee at the bar. Doing a double take when he sits down, eyes wide.

“I know I’ve only known you guys for like a year but none of you had a secret kid, right?”

“No, this is my sister’s kid. I’m watching her for a few hours.”

Eddie relaxes in his seat. “Oh, thank God. I could not have dealt with that twice in one week.”

Nancy perks up. “Twice?”

“Yeah, remember my buddy Jeff from high school. Apparently, him and his girl are expecting. Sent me into a whole crisis.”

“Oh, that’s why you were cleaning your room a few days ago.”

“I’m offended that’s why you think I was cleaning, but you’re correct.”

“Why were you having a crisis?” Robin asks over her coffee. “It’s not like we’re not at an age where people we know start having kids.”

Eddie makes a large gesture. “That’s why I was having a crisis. It was the first one of my friends that is taking that next step in life. While I’m still stuck between two jobs, not in a relationship, and a giant fucking mess. Sorry,” he apologizes to Argyle.

“She’s two, she doesn’t know what that word means,” Argyle assures.

Steve comes into the café and sits on the chair next to Eddie. Covering his face in his hands. “If I see another first grader, it’ll be too soon.”

“Bad day.” Robin gives him a sympathetic look.

Steve nods. “Three kids had to be sent to the nurse because they were sick. Three, like visibly sick. They shouldn’t have even been sent in at all. And then the rest were just on edge and didn’t want to settle down after recess. And.” He finally spots Stella on the couch. “One of your sister’s kids?”

Argyle nods. “Yeah. Her mom should be here soon, so don’t worry.”

“I said first graders for a reason. They are monsters. What’s her name?”

“Stella. Do you want to say hi?” he asks her. Stella gives Steve a small wave.

Steve melts a little bit. “You have just made my whole day, Stella.”

A woman who looks a little like Argyle walks into the café. Argyle notices her and stands, picking up Stella from the couch. “Hey, Jules. How was the interview?”

“Pretty good. Thanks for watching her again, I appreciate it.” She takes Stella out of Argyle’s arms. “Did you have a good time with Uncle Argyle?” Stella nods into her mother’s shoulder. “Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”

Argyle shakes his head. “Not at all. Right Jon?”

“Yeah, not at all.”

Julia nods, finally realizing the rest of the group.

“Oh right, Julie, these are my friends. You’ve met some of them. Dudes, this is my sister Julia.”

The group gives a mix of greetings before going back to separate conversations. Julia says hello back before Argyle walks her out of the café.

“It was seriously no trouble watching her, it was nice to see her. And you.”

“I know. Wish I could stay more, but we got to get back.”

“If you need a place to stay, you can chill at our place. I’ll take the couch so you can have a bed.”

Julia shakes her head. “That sweet but I didn’t pack an overnight bag. If we leave now, we might make it before the next rush hour. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you and Jon.”

“Nonsense. You know you’re always welcome at our place.”

“When are you two finally going to cut the crap and get together already. The whole family’s been waiting for it.”

Argyle groans. “Tell me there’s not a betting pool.”

“You already know the answer to that.”

“Jesus. I’m not sure we even ever will. He’s like the first best friend I’ve ever had, I don’t want to lose him over some stupid feelings.”

Stella coos, grabbing at her mom’s hair. “We should go before she starts getting fussy. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you will. You might not believe me, but there’s more hope than you think there is. From an outsider’s perspective.”

“So, I can blame you when everything goes up in flames. Nice.” Julie gently slaps his arm. “Call me when you get back, alright.”

“I will. Wave goodbye to Uncle Argyle, Stella.”

“Bye, bye,” Steve whispers with a small wave.

Argyle smiles. “Bye, Stella. Nice seeing you both.”

They walk down the street to where Julia parked as Argyle returns to the café.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1

#morgan's friends au #stranger things #stranger things au #friends au #argyle stranger things #jonathan byers #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre relationship #jargyle #steddie #ronance #argyle has siblings #i believe that he would #even though we know next to nothing about him in cannon #but he seems like the guy who has a bunch of siblings #i don't know why

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praisethesuuun · 1 year

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Can I request a Buddha making love in the shower with his fem partner

This is my first time writing a smut for Buddha, so please be nice to me •///•

English is not my first language so apologies for any mistakes, having said that happy reading💞

Buddha x fem!reader: All For a Candy

Type: smut🔞

Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex, blowjob, shower sex

The air in the room was chilly, rippling your soft skin, warmed by the afternoon spent with your lover. He had convinced you to go with him, in the temple where you served as a priestess; interrupting you during one of your long prayers. You had not chosen to stay there: the local believers had entrusted you to the mother priestess immediately after finding you alone near the city gates, condemning you to a life of prayer, more uncomfortable clothes than anything else and chastity. But everything changed when you met a bizarre man who was looking for lodging for the night. His hair was styled in a very loose way, his eyes bore the beauty of a thousand freshly bloomed lotus flowers, while his expression went from calm to frustrated as the man crushed the candy in his mouth instead of melting it with the tongue. "Damn lollipops, I can never finish one without biting it"

His name was Buddha, a name that seemed to you at the time to fit his person. And yet, even if on the outside you were maintaining a calm expression, typical of a priestess, inside you were exploding with annoyance: the so-called Buddha would not stop filling you with questions, making you confused about the right path to take and refusing to leave you alone with the your thoughts. "So...why shut yourself up in a temple?"

"I already told you, my parents wanted it"

You were careful to keep the truth well hidden, avoiding the risk of making your temple look bad, painting it as a home for orphans; the other priestesses had been far too clear about it.

"Why don't you leave?"

"Why should I?"

"Your hate can be felt for miles, the stench is even stronger near you!" he said throwing her head back and holding his nose, leaving you shocked, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Who the hell is this lad?" you thought as you tried to process the scene before you. A shiver ran down your spine: if you were really that easy to read, then you were doing a terrible job of not arousing suspicion from others. Leaving that cage was your dream since you were a child; you prayed to the gods every day to send you an angel ready to lift you up and take you away, far, far away, from the mother priestess and the strong smell of sandalwood incense. A caged bird, fed out of compassion, that's how you felt.

"We're here"

Your voice was hard, firm, you had gone from being a precious lily to seeming like an imposing elm; Buddha felt the change in the air, perhaps he had exaggerated provoking you like that, or the bastard was aiming for just that reaction...

After all, it was his job to guide anyone who felt lost: your poor soul had ventured into the maze of darkness, a thick shadow full of life. "But where's the shadow, there's light"

You looked at him again confused, judiciously before opening your mouth again: "Excuse me?"

"Ah! Nothing!" the stranger became defensive, exactly like a cat that is seen rummaging in the garbage.

"Weird"

"Rude!"

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

That little meeting of yours, even if it seemed strange and completely out of place, would have been the beginning of something much more beautiful. The only problem was, you didn't know it yet.

His stay made you go through all the colors of rage, even making you sweat blood from the nerves that the Buddha made you feel. Apparently, the mother priestess had well thought of entrusting her care to you; who seeks finds and who finds keeps, right?

Bullshit, that was. The great abbess simply didn't feel like moving her ass off her soft pillow, so she left the heavy lifting to her only submissive, one submissive enough to follow her every whim. You.

"Perfect..." you whispered as you picked up the newcomer's dirty clothes from the floor, placing them in a hand-woven basket

"...just perfect"

Your gaze turned sad all of a sudden. It was precisely in moments like this that the chains wrapped around your body pulled the most, tearing you both inside and out, and the mother priestess was the very one who had tied them to you the same day she locked you in there. She kept you on a leash like a little dog, but you didn't have the courage to oppose it, how could you? Let's say you had found the courage to rebel and finally leave... and then what? What would you have done alone?

"Nothing!"

Screaming might have relieved you of some tension, even tearing off your ceremonial dress and throwing it on the ground helped. So that's exactly what you did, opening in a short space of time that armor you'd built up over the years.

The dress hit the floor exactly as an archer's arrow pierces a target, making a dry, muffled sound. Inside you there was a storm going on, the same one that was now making you cry tears of anger, hot, but cold when they fell on your bare skin.

"You'll catch a cold like this"

Panic. Your mind began to invoke all the gods you knew of, repeating mantras, turning your head into a temple and your body stiff as wooden planks. The terror that one of the priests had seen you like that made you more afraid than death: he would immediately have you considered a heretic, only to excommunicate you under the contemptuous eyes of heaven.

Tears began to cloud your eyes again, remaining motionless staring at the dark wall of the small room; fear refused to make you turn and face the man before you. It was over. Head of the line for the crazed little priestess.

"Here"

Buddha said in a tender voice, then warm, this time not on your face but on your shoulders. At that point, you couldn't take it anymore and turned your head only to meet a pair of lotus eyes, deep and curious, the same ones who had captured you few hours before. "Thank you" you mutter trying to calm your nerves, but the thing was, you didn't know how to react at all. "Go on" he urged you to walk, nudging you slowly, carrying you through the silent corridors of the temple, the floorboards at your feet creaking with almost every step.

Buddha made you sit on his mat, closing the door and making sure no one was spying; once quiet, he sighed, sitting next to you, waiting for you to speak. A few seconds passed before you decided to breathe your mouth, without even trying to maintain the mask of a devout believer, you had been unmasked. "I never wanted this and you shouldn't have see me like...that"

The man only hummed. He still wanted to hear more, uh?

"They found me nearby, in a lute basket. I had no choice"

"You have now"

Those words hit you in the heart, punching it. You should have packed a sweat towel, because that conversation was about to become a duel where the sharpest word would win, hands down. But what exactly does it mean to win? You didn't want to be there, that's enough, it was obvious. Maybe you didn't just want to show your restrictions, those that perhaps the Abbess hadn't put on you, but Fear itself.

"Why don't you join me? Better than staying here, isn't it?"

"Can I? Really?"

In Buddha's eyes, you were exactly a beautiful canary whose cage was being opened, even if you carried the rage of a hungry wolf inside. His soul softened, feeling affection and pity for you, which translated into a sincere smile. Your cheeks turned red instantly: living like that, you had never experienced sensations other than negative ones and you had lost every shred of wonder, yet his smile had moved something inside you. It was contagious and even your lips curled up.

That night changed everything, turning your life upside down like the bad pancakes Buddha tried to cook from time to time. You two decided to leave immediately, at the following dawn to be precise, escaping into the thickets and dodging the threats of all the priests. Your smile was dazzling, with Buddha running dragging you with his hand tight around yours.

"HURRY UP!"

"GOT IT"

"THEY JUST THREW ME A PAN"

Freedom was sweet, mighty. It crept under your skin with every stride you took towards the temple exit, while Buddha - strictly with a new candy in the mouth - had the same dreamy eyes of someone reliving distant memories.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

And here you are, years later, still together as the duo you were. Embraced in a hotel room where you have found shelter for the night, outside a stormy wind was blowing, which made the leaves of the trees whistle like freshly launched darts. "It's getting cold" you whispered in his ear, ready to get up to go get another blanket. Those days had been particularly stormy and had made the lives of travelers like you difficult. Finding that little inn in the woods had been like a blessing, as if some angel had smiled at you. In front of your aching legs and empty stomach, a clean bed meant a glimmer of sunshine amidst the raindrops.

"I heard they have spas downstairs, we could try them"

Buddha's voice was honeyed, like the candy cane that he was tossing with his tongue. You felt like eating his lips, stealing it from his mouth and playing a little, but no one was snatching the beloved snacks from the Buddha, he would rather throw the bed at you than follow you all the way to the hot springs. So, you went with that option because, hey, you only live once, right?

Your loved one couldn't even complain since you were inspired by one of his lessons. Your head rose slowly, approaching his like a tiger stalking its prey; he guessed and grinned playfully before speaking: "You just can't resist me"

"No, I can't!" you answered with an innocent smile, melting Buddha's heart. You were so beautiful: with your cheeks still dyed red, your hair a little disheveled and your skin still marked by his signs of love. He couldn't resist you either, so he decided to humor you and kiss you, in such a romantic way that for a moment you wondered if it was really your man and not a double.

His tongue danced with yours, while his hands rested lazily on your back, leaving some courtesy caresses. Buddha didn't even have time to realize it, that all the fire of your skin against his was instinctive as if they had thrown a bucket of water over it. His lids - closed before - had opened as soon as he felt a gust of air against his chest. A moment of silence, then he shifted his attention to the door to your open room and the trail of a blanket disappearing behind the wall. Confusion, realization, and then: "O-Oi! My candy!"

A breathless chase around the hotel began, where you darted in amusement with the candy stuck in your teeth, trying not to choke yourself on it by mistake, while Buddha was moaning behind you, chasing you with devotion. These little moments were your favorite and even better was the way they played out.

In a short time, the sliding door of the indoor spa could already be glimpsed and you jumped in as if there were no tomorrow. Paying attention to the floor of large stones, you made your way towards the largest pool; you started to turn, ready for your lover's angry expression, but he pounced on you at the first opportunity, throwing both of your bodies into the hot water. "Bad girl! That's no good!" he scolded you in a playful way, splashing you with water.

"Tell the truth, you liked it"

"You stole my dessert so it's impossible"

Buddha answered you, before taking off his soaked trousers to throw them near the edge of the tub, huffing lightly.

"I'll make it up to you, then"

A sensual smirk crept onto your face, while your (e/c) became veiled in lust, as if a goddess of love were manipulating you like a puppet. The man grinned as he felt his sweetheart's hands push him towards the edge of the perimeter, where he was trapped by your arms. The water rippled in concentric circles with your every step, while its roar colored the air together with the further sound of the small waterfalls. "So get started now, you'll be busy"

Buddha whispered in a deep voice, using the strength in his arms to sit on the marble edge, making you immediately collide with the sight of his already partially erect cock. You held his length in your hand, you could feel his warmth, how the pulse beat under your skin. Buddha had a little spasm when you kissed him, you smiled when you saw him tilt his head back and moan. But you wanted to own him, leave an indelible mark on the man.

You started using your tongue and it made him jump. Oh Gods, it was hard. Working with your mouth, you licked it from base to tip, smiling between various moans. You tasted the crown with your tongue, it tasted sweet and salty at the same time, then you kissed up and down. You moistened your lips before dipping it in your mouth, you did it looking Buddha straight in the eyes. His hand worked its way through your hair and grasping it, tried to guide you gently, up and down the length, cheeks slightly sunken as you massaged the part you couldn't reach.

"Fuck" moaned the man, who came after a few minutes. Every sound that came out of his mouth was like a drug for you, making you suddenly blush as you felt his seed flooding your throat. A choked sound came out of your mouth at first, then you swallowed it all to regain your title of good girl.

"You came...so much..." you huffed, looking up at him with eyes slightly closed.

Desire possessed Buddha, prompting him to immerse himself again in the tub to join you; he grabbed your breasts, squeezing them and pressing his thumb on your nipples, making you literally scream. Your lover wanted to love every inch of your body, squeezing and biting your every curve.

"Please, don't stop~"

"Damn water" he cursed. In fact, the water made him lose friction on your skin: Buddha's hands were constantly slipping and he couldn't get half the things he wanted to get done. From nervousness he kissed you hungrily, biting and taking your breath away, while one of your hands grabbed his now loose and wet hair, as if to push him even more towards your body. Touching his skin was all you wanted, to hold him close and merge with him.

Your souls vibrated in sync, while your sighs and moans were drowned out by the rushing water, urging you not to hold back.

"Buddha..."

His name escaped your mouth like a prayer, one of those recited with heart in hand and with all possible devotion to one's god. "Alright, sweetheart. Turn around, can you do that for me?" Buddha asked you urgently, rosy cheeks and pure lust in his deep gaze. "Yes, honey" you answered with the exact same tone and turning your back on him.

Buddha grabbed your arms pulling them back and arching your back; you could feel some of your hair sticking to your skin as your legs spread in preparation for the future. Buddha was impatient, he couldn't help himself anymore: you drove him crazy, the man had never felt anything like that for a woman, but the meeting with you had moved his entire existence and now he couldn't help but overwhelm you.

Buddha forcibly thrusted his hips towards you releasing a deep growl and entering your womanhood. You sighed deeply arching your back even more and releasing a loud moan, which echoed throughout the room. How beautiful that feeling of fullness was and even more so given the person who was filling it. Something mixed with serenity and lust pervaded you making numerous shivers pass along your entire body.

He began to move his pelvis at an excruciating pace, for both of you. Buddha accelerated after a few minutes and your moans only encouraged the man more and more. Your legs were almost weaving but feeling your partner's hands holding you up gave you a sense of stability and security. The noises that escaped his lips, combined with those of the water, excited you more and more, while small droplets of sweat began to run down your body until they became part of the pool.

"Fuck...fuck, (Y/N)...you're so good"

From that position the man enjoyed a breathtaking view: your slightly bent head, your firm ass bouncing with every movement, his cock repeatedly entering and exiting your tight pussy, the rippling surface of the water and the latter which emphasized the sound of their skins touching. He couldn't take it anymore. He was about to reach his limit and he wasn't going to until you reached yours too.

His movements increased and became more desperate and sloppy. The scream of pleasure that came out of your mouth was melody to Buddha's ears behind you, who sighed deeply. With that position you could feel his member grow and throb inside you, it was as if you could sense every single vein rubbing against your skin. You were about to reach the limit and Buddha noticed it from the grip that your walls were exerting around him. He increased his hip movements even more regardless of the noise that was rumbling through the stone walls of the spa. Just as he was about to release his pleasure, he walked over to you and, in a low hoarse voice, asked, “Should I finish outside?”

But you opened your lids slightly, freeing yourself from his grip, you pressed your back to his muscular chest, while his strong arms moved around your hips. “Don't even think about it" you said before looking back and kissing him, bringing both of you to orgasm. Buddha held you in his arms, his movements became slow to fully enjoy the moment. You released a loud moan that was muffled by the deep kiss. His saliva mixed with yours dripped from your chin, just like his semen, which was now slowly pouring out of you in small streams.

Once you broke away and caught your breath, you burst out laughing, breaking the silence: "I should steal your snacks more often"

"Try it, I'll give you all the punishments you deserve"

"Now, that's what I wanted to hear~"

He smiled at you, a sincere smile full of affection, before capturing your lips again, softly as if you were made of porcelain.

Your heart started beating fast: this man would be your death, he had given you everything he had to offer without expecting anything in return, freeing you from your cage and treating you like a queen. You loved him, yes you did. Buddha felt the same way and although he couldn't offer you a life as rich as the one you were living before, he will never regret the moment when he freed his precious canary from the cage in which it was locked up.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror x you #snv x reader #snv x you #request #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv buddha #buddha x you #buddha x reader #ror buddha #record of ragnarok buddha #snv smut #ror smut #record of ragnarok smut

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a-casual-kpopfan · 1 year

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Reminisce and Regrets

A/N: “Italic” dialogue indicates it being spoken in English. “Normal” dialogue indicates it being spoken in Korean.

Shoutout to @nojisunnomercy for the commission piece, really make me and Ghost to write and go through to make a sequel to Consquences and Regrets.

~~~~~

I made you my everything. Put my life in your hands and you held the strings.

She really was your everything. Don't know who I am anymore.

Let me down every time and I hit the floor.

Even with what she did, you still forgave her back then, entrusting her not to hurt you again.

And you gave me nothing at all. Only empty excuses to try and break the fall.

Despite your forgiveness, she ended up betraying you again. So, I did what I never could to do.

And I cut myself loose from you.

If she didn’t do it… Would you still be with her?

“Hey!”

“Oi, you bastard!”

With a yell, you snap back to reality, the image of her gone from your mind, replaced by your grumpy friend, frowning at you. “The food is going to be cold if you keep staring into nothing like that.”

At that time, you put your earbuds down, and noises start to flood back into your ears. The clinking of utensils hitting each other’s and the plate. Chattering from nearby tables. Sounds of people walking and cars driving on the road.

No longer are you drowned in your own thoughts. You’re back to reality: a small café near your workplace, where you and your friend decide to have lunch.

“You can just start first you know.” You shrug. “Didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Bro, I already finished half of mine, and you haven’t even touched yours.”

“Oh.” Looking down onto the table, you barely touch your food while your friend is almost done with his.

“You know, it’s not like we are strangers or anything.” Your friend lets out a sigh. “I’m worried about you dude. You haven’t been like this since the first week that you arrived here, and that was years ago!”

“Yeah, well, you know I got cheated on by my ex, what else do you need to know?” You chuckle lightly, starting to dig into your already cold meal.

“The details! The beauty is in the details, my guy.” Your friend responds with a chuckle, which morphs into a worried smile “Don’t you think let it out is better than keeping it all in?”

“Well... I’ll think about the offer, but thanks anyways.” You smile at your friend. A bit mischievous, but a good person at heart. You know he only has your best intention in his mind, and you are grateful for it. But you are not about to ruin her image, it’s the least you can do for her, even if she betrayed you twice.

“Anyways, I got us tickets!” Your friend decides to change the subject, tapping something on his phone before showing you the image of 2 tickets on his hand. “For what, exactly?” You think you know what those tickets are for, but you pray to God that you are wrong, just this one time.

“For the Loona concert!”

Fuck.

You swear in your head. It’s bad enough that the news of their tour, and images of them circulating in twitter inadvertently got you thinking about her again, after all those years. Now attending a concert and seeing them live?

God knows what could happen.

“How did you even get your hands on this?” You ask purely out of curiosity as to how your friend managed to acquire the tickets. You know how fast these tickets sell out. “Heh, what can I say? Lady luck was on my side that day~” Your friend looks incredibly proud of himself.

“So… Who are you going with?” You ask, a futile attempt in hopes that you might not have to go. “You, of course.” You groan at his answer.

“Come on, I know you want to attend it. You’re Korean, for god’s sake!” Your friend beams at you. “Most people don’t even recognize me as a Korean.” You counter. “That’s because you grow your fucking hair and beard out. They look good on you by the way, paired with those glasses-” He does the typical chef’s kiss motion “but just saying.” Your friend nearly explodes, but in a playful way, as he points out your distinct changes.

“I get your point, and?”

“And it might be a nice chance to use your mother tongue again. You’ve been using English ever since you got here, and God bless you for being fluent in English because none of us know a lick of Korean, I just feel like it’s unfair for you.”

“You really don’t have to do that.” You smile lightly. Amongst the various coworkers you worked with when you first arrived, only this guy stuck with you through thick and thin, inadvertently ending up as your best friend… Still, he can’t replace her, but he is good to you, and you gratefully accept that. What you don’t want to accept is the tickets.

“But-”

“Nah ah, no buts! I already paid for the damn tickets; I can use it however I want. And I want you to go with me on that day, and that is final!” Your friend stares at you with his fake aggressiveness that you are oh so familiar already. And you know that he won’t budge at this point, no matter how much you say to him.

“Alright, you win. I’ll go with you.” You let out a light chuckle, to which your friend also smiles at you. “There we go, couldn’t you be like this earlier?”

“Shut up.” Both of you laugh at the banter while enjoying the rest of the lunch. You can’t help but feel dreaded at the notion of seeing her, or the girls again, but they might not recognize you with how much you’ve changed. Ignoring the dull pain in your heart at the thought of them not recognizing you, you still think that it would be for the best. You are not the same as you were back then.

Not anymore.

-----

“Yah! Yeojin! Sit back down, why are you jumping around??”

“I’m so hungry… Do we have anything to eat? Hey, are you listening to me?”

To say that the bus is chaotic would be an understatement.

In typical Loona fashion, the girls are completely turning the bus upside down with their shenanigans, like they have an endless reserve of energy. Well, most of them, anyways.

Sitting at the far back of the bus, Hyeju watches them silently. Per usual, Hyeju isn’t one to participate in the chaos as much as the others, but there’s another reason for this.

See, after the incident with you, it took Hyeju a long time to earn back the trust of the girls again, some longer than others. Thankfully the members gave Hyeju another chance, but things were never quite the same.

Like how cracks can still be seen on a fixed object.

Her mistake has left scars. Some deeper than others.

She then takes a glance at Heejin who is also not partaking in the chaos, but just looking outside the window with a blank stare. Heejin never really did forgive Hyeju. She only held in the anger inside of her for the sake of the others, but with observant eyes, it wasn’t hard to recognize Heejin was avoiding Hyeju.

And honestly, despite how hurtful it is, Hyeju can’t bring herself to be angry at Heejin for that.

You and Heejin were basically glued together.

She introduced you to the girls.

She was the one that was with you through thick and thin.

But in the end, she had to give up on him for Hyeju’s sake.

What did Hyeju do?

She betrayed you.

The reason why you decided to move abroad while cutting off any form of contact.

It’s been 3 years since then.

Hyeju sighs to herself, looking outside to the moving scenery. Three grueling years without you by her side, they say that you never know what you truly had until you lost it, Hyeju understands it fully, now that she lost you.

She never quite realized just how involved you were in her life, until you left. The apartment was never quite the same without you, without your warm touch, it lost its homely atmosphere, now it’s just a cold, empty room. Meals weren’t the same without your soft voice, humming and listening to each of her daily rants, the bed felt cold without your hug, pulling her in and reassuring her that you were always with her.

Why did she do it? Why did she betray you? Even after 3 years, that question still lingers in her mind, as a reminder of her own mistake. She simply took you for granted. After the first time, you were gracious enough to give her your full trust again. And she… She thought that she could get away with it as well. How could some instant gratification be compared with stability?

She was wrong, so, so wrong. She was wrong to even entertain that thought, to even meet up with that man, to be seduced by his mere words.

And that made her lose the dearest thing that she had.

You.

-----

Well, here you are.

Standing in front of the venue, instead of all the excitement that you should be feeling, all you can feel is impending doom or anxiety in short. You start to question yourself repeatedly, “is this a mistake? Should you turn back? Why are you even here-”

“Dude! Less thinking and more walking!” You feel a hand striking your back, nearly making you stumble onto the ground. You glare to the side at your friend, who is smirking at you.

“You’ll thank me for this one day, now let’s get going.” He pulls you to stand straight again, before pushing you into the venue.

“Here goes nothing, I guess.” You mumble, mostly to yourself to brace for what is to come. “See? You’re already speaking in Korean! I know you’re excited, you don’t have to hide it from me~”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You let out a sigh, starting to walk into the venue on your own without your friend pushing you. “Let’s head in, or else we might be stuck outside for a while.”

“I heard you, let’s go!” Your friend’s energy seems to remind you of a certain bunny, causing you to chuckle slightly.

The walk inside the venue is generally uneventful, if you ignore all the crazed fans with the merch gossiping among each other. As you do your best to ignore them, because everywhere you look, you see their damn faces.

On the shirts, printed on handheld fans, posters.

God, what in the actual fuck.

You thought you could handle this, seeing them again, but just the sight of them, of her, on the poster, already makes you feel sick to your stomach. Three years, three long years, and you are still haunted by the memories of that day. Three years without seeing them, three years of you, changing yourself in order to not be weak anymore. Yet just a picture of them, and the wall you’ve built so meticulously has already started to crumble slightly.

“Dude, you alright?” Your friend doesn’t miss the faint pained expression on your face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ok, my stomach is just a bit hurt, that’s all.” You harden your resolve once again before reassuring your friend with a slight smile. Your friend says nothing of the matter, but you feel his gaze on you as you both move to your seats on the inside of the stadium.

In an attempt to distract yourself from the fans and pictures, your eyes dart around other places, trying to find a safe haven where you don’t have to look at all the fans and pictures of the girls. You eventually find it, but you don’t know if it’s really a ‘safe haven’.

You spot a figure looking like a man, his black hoodies and jeans a stark contrast from the crowd. Given that you are also dark colored clothes, you can’t say anything about the man. But there’s just something about him, something that you can’t put your hands on, for some reason, he feels familiar.

“Dude, why are you staring at a stranger?” Your friend elbows you in the chest.

“… Nothing.” You disregard your uneasiness to get back to the matter on hand. “I just accidentally look at that direction.” Trying to play it off and walk off with your friend to find your place to watch.

“Pfft, yeah right.” Without looking, you can feel his eyes roll at you. “Let’s head inside before someone call the police on you for being a creep.” Silently, you take one last glance at the man in hoodie, before joining your friend at the seating area of the venue.

“This… Feels weird.” Mumbling to yourself, you look around the place. Now that you think about it, you rarely ever watch their performances from the audience’s point of view. Being a close friend to a certain bunny, and later, boyfriend of a certain wolf, you spend most of the time backstage with them, watching them either on the TV in the waiting room, or directly behind the backstage.

You never had the chance to watch from the audience due to your relationship with the girls, you were important to the members. A big brother, a drinking buddy, a listener, a friend, best friend even, and then boyfriend to her. They couldn’t let you stay in the audience during their performances.

Somewhere deep inside of you, you missed those days, days you spent with the girls, taking care of them and having fun with them, to be with the one you love, no, loved.

You find it hard for yourself to forgive her, you already did that once, after all. All the love and energy spent on her, to be reciprocated with betrayal. Not only once but twice. Who does that kind of thing? Who betrayed the trust of someone who loved them very dearly that easily?

The more these thoughts resurface, the more your heart ached. Not for her, but for the relationship that you lost because of her. How could you stay with the girls, now that your relationship with one of them is strained? They know her longer than they know you, so whose side are they going to take?

While you fall back into your deepest thoughts, you fail to recognize the venue’s light dimming, as screams begin to echo out from the fans. Only when you hear their voices do you awaken from your thoughts, to be greeted by the girls standing on stage, already performing the first song with the fans chanting along with the music.

You turn to the side, to also see your friend excitedly chanting along with his broken Korean, much to your amusement.

As for you, you were never one to like the crowd, so you just stayed seated, watching the performance with mixed feelings in your heart.

Your eyes soon glued onto her.

Your ex, the one you loved so much, but also the one who broke your heart into pieces. She seems to be doing ok, you thought. Her stage presence is much better than before, and so is her confidence. Despite projecting a cold image, she has always been somewhat timid behind the curtains. It took you many hours of encouragement and pep talks to give her the confidence boost she needed, and to see her like this… You can’t help but be proud, just a little bit.

Before your mind can start treading into forbidden memories, you turn to another person.

Your “Bunny”.

Well, you don’t think you have any right to call her that anymore, after all, it was you who cut her off when you moved overseas. Admittedly, it wasn’t right for you to just cut her off like that, when you and she have shared so many things together, the both of you going way, way back. But in your emotional state, you couldn’t bear to see or hear anything that would be remotely related to your ex. And so, in a fit of rage and depression, you changed your number, cutting off every relationship that you had in Korea, except for your family.

As the concert goes on, you barely pay any attention to the performance itself, too busy drowning yourself in your thoughts as you drift back and forth, in and out of your head, between happiness from seeing the girls again, to sadness that you’re seeing your ex again, to depression and guilt of you cutting them off from your life.

Before you even know it, the concert is nearing its end, with the girls doing the encore song while having fun on stage.

I don't need nobody to move my body

All me with no strings attached

I don't wanna be somebody who

Lets somebody hold me if they hold me back

I just wanna dance, dance

Dance on my own (dance on my own)

You can’t tell if there is a hidden message to this song or something, but you feel like this song just hit a little bit too close to home. Maybe that’s why you’ve been looping it a lot these days. And it’s hitting you hard right now, seeing that your ex is one of the people singing it on stage as well.

How ironic is that?

When she was the one that betrayed you and now singing that she can be by herself? You tighten your fists as tears start to gather in your eyes as rage and sadness begin to cloud your mind. How can she sing that so-

No.

Before you can go any further, you mentally restrain yourself. As expected, you’re losing control over your emotions because you can see the worried look on your friend’s face as he glances over to check up on you.

“Bathroom.” You manage to utter one word before standing up and leaving your seat, and your friend behind.

“Fuck.” You swear to yourself once you enter the bathroom. Making your way to the sink, you splash your face with water in some false hope of cooling down your mind. “Get it together.” You look at your drenched face in the mirror.

“It’s almost done, just a little bit more.” You talk to yourself in the mirror, like some madman who’s off his meds. Luckily, no one is here to judge your weird behaviour.

After a few more minutes of talking to yourself, you gather enough courage to return to your seat. But right as you leave the bathroom, you see the man in black hoodie from earlier walking by.

Now, as any normal person would do, you are going to return to the seating area to calm down an undoubtedly very worried friend. But once again, your gut feeling is telling you that this guy is bad news. And your gut feelings are usually never wrong. After all, it was your gut feeling that made you suspicious of cheating in the first place.

So, you decide to trail behind the guy, lighten your steps in order not to make any sounds. The man just keeps walking forward, his steps heavy and hurried. He’s walking with a purpose, there was a destination in mind, and you can’t help but keep following him, all the way to the backstage area.

Seeing how the guy knows how to avoid security, your suspicions are confirmed by now, but for safe measure, you kept your distance from him.

Then you heard noises, more specifically, chatter and laughter. You can recognize their voices everywhere, even if you aren’t up to date with them anymore.

Oh no.

The man starts to pick up the pace after he hears the voice heading towards a fork in the hallway, prompting you to do the same. You see him pull something out from his hoodie’s pocket. You can’t see what it is, but it’s shiny, you start sprinting after the man now.

You’re catching up to him. But he’s also getting very close to the girls, their laughter can be heard closer and closer.

Faster.

Now’s the time that you put all the efforts you made in the gym to good use. With a short burst, you catch up to the guy, and promptly crash your shoulder into him, pushing him into the wall in front of the girls just as they arrive, earning screams and yells from them. But you can’t hear them.

With the collision, the both of you fall onto the ground, the object the man was carrying seconds before fall off his hand, landing on the ground. A pocketknife.

The man glares back at you, his hood already fallen, yelling “You motherfucker!” in fluent Korean, stunning you for a brief second.

Because, you know this man.

He was the one that Hyeju cheated on with.

That brief stun period is enough for him to land a kick in your face, before scrambling for the knife. Thankfully, the pain is enough to wake your senses up, leading you to get on your knees and lunge for the man, using your entire body weight to land onto him, before your arms quickly find their way around his neck, tightening the chokehold you have on him while he struggles to break free by bashing his elbows against your ribs.

You grind your teeth and tighten the hold even further, ensuring the man has no way to escape, before you feel him going limp on your arms, and you being pulled out someone, presumably the security.

Looking at the unconscious guy, you smile faintly to yourself, maybe those Jiujitsu classes weren’t that useless after all.

Everything immediately afterwards is somewhat of a blur to you, not to mention the adrenaline subsiding and the pain kicking in. The fact that you encounter not one, but the two people responsible for betraying your trust back then and in such a situation as well.

From what you can deduce, Hyeju probably cut contact with him out of guilt, and him being constantly denied contact probably drove him crazy. Looking at the unconscious guy again, you can’t help but let out a sigh. What can you say?

Karma’s a bitch.

Although you feel a tinge of relief learning that small piece of knowledge, you still don’t particularly feel like you are in the mood to answer some questions from the security.

But you are cautious enough not to stand near the girls though, in case they recognize you because they sure did recognize the other man, as evident by Hyeju’s trembling. As happy as you are to see the girls up close again, you don’t think your heart can take any more than this, so, you take what you can get.

After a brief question, you start to head back to the seating area, your head thinking of what excuse to use for your worried friend. Before you leave though, you hear the voice of the girls calling for you, and as much as you want to just ignore them, that would be too rude of you.

“Thank you so much for helping us, mister.” Haseul speaks up for the girls.

“It’s nothing, I just did what anyone else would do.” You smile lightly.

“But your glasses were broken because of it, was it not?” Indeed, your glasses were broken, but you don’t really need glasses to function day to day and you just want to get out of here as fast as possible.

“I can still see fine, so don’t worry Miss. Instead, I think you should focus on comforting your friend over there, she seems quite shaken, no?” Your attempt to divert the conversation is a success as all the girls turn to the shaken Hyeju, talking amongst themselves before heading back, not forgetting to give you a small bow when they leave.

Except for one person though.

“Oppa.”

Shit, of course it’s Heejin. That girl has always been observant when it comes to you. But that isn’t enough for you to give up.

Keeping up with the façade of not knowing Korean, you pretend to not hear it and just keep walking. You can hear her calling you “oppa” repeatedly again. But you aren’t going to stop. The moment you cut her off, you stop being best friends. Not anymore.

“Pooh, is that you?”

Pooh.

Such a stupid name.

Yet, you stop dead in your track at the mention of that name, no one has ever called you by that in years. It was from way back in their childhood. Something your parents lovingly call you due to your chubby figure back then. Something that Heejin also called you, joyful of having another ‘victim’ being called by a nickname, after gaining the ‘Bunny’ nickname from her parents. At least, all the way up to when you started dating Hyeju, at least.

That name should have stayed buried in the past. Why did she- No, the question here should be, how did she figure you out?

“You look surprised.” Standing frozen in the spot, you can see Heejin walks into your view from behind, smiling lightly. “Did you really think that, by growing out your hair and beard, and bulking up, that I would not recognize you?”

Her eyes look up to yours, and you can see the anger, the disappointment in her eyes, but also relief and genuine joy upon seeing her best friend again. “Was our friendship really that shallow to you, Pooh?”

Guiltily, you can’t bring yourself to face her directly, your eyes diverting from her face. You’d rather look at anything else than to see her right now, if not you feel like the wall that you’ve spent years building might not collapse on the spot.

“You don’t have to say anything.” She whispers. You can see streams of tears rolling down her cheek. Your heart hurt more at the notion of Heejin crying, especially because of you. “I’m glad that I got to see you again, even if it was for a moment.” You feel her hand resting on your cheek, gently caressing it with her thumb going along the grooves of your beard.

“My goodness, you’ve really changed, haven’t you.” A small chuckle. “Goodbye, Pooh.” As you feel your palm leaving your face, you can hear the crumbling of the walls surrounding your heart. Years of steeling yourself, but all it took was just a moment with Heejin to bring it down.

“Wait.” You utter, your hand grasping onto hers to prevent her from leaving. Before she can react, you pull her into a tight hug, whispering to her. “I’m sorry, Bunny. I’m sorry.”

Taken back by your action, Heejin seems to be silent.

One second passed by.

Two seconds.

And then you can feel her body trembling as her arms try their best to hug around your huge frame, her face buried into your shoulder as she lets out choked sobs.

“How could you leave us like that? Leave me like that?” She cries into your shoulder. “Was our time together not even worth it for you?” Her grip on you turns tighter. “How could you…”

Her words are like a knife piercing your heart, you know you’ve done something wrong to her and the others. So, all you can do is try to compensate for it. There’s no turning back now, Heejin would not let you leave if you don’t leave her your phone number, and the girls are going to know about this sooner or later.

The girls… Are you ready to face Hyeju again? After all this time?

You forcefully stop yourself from thinking further. That can be dealt with later. You have a crying bunny to appease.

-----

As expected, after a good 10 minutes of crying, Heejin gave you 2 options: either give her your number, or you follow her back to her hotel. Without any real options, you reluctantly give her your number, only then was she satisfied enough to let you leave.

After that, you had to deal with the situation that was your worried friend. Thankfully, he bought your excuse of being stuck in toilet due to constipation and the both of you part way after chatting for a bit.

Which brings you to right now: lying flat on your couch, physically and emotionally exhausted from the chaotic evening. You just want to take a long, long sleep now.

Before you can even drift off to sleep, your phone begins to ring nonstop. Looks like the night isn’t over yet.

“Hello?” You pick up the phone.

“You still awake?” You can hear Heejin’s voice from the other side.

“Yeah, thanks to a certain someone calling me.”

“Hehe~ Anyways, I’m only in the city for tomorrow before heading to our next destination, can we meet?” Despite performing for around 4 hours straight, you can still feel the energy in her voice. Unconsciously, you start to smile as well, infectious of her energy. Just like old times.

“Lucky for you, I have tomorrow off, so let me sleep for now and maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.” Despite losing contact for so long, the two of you still converse like nothing ever happened. Like you were never apart. Joking and teasing like the old times.

“You better show up, you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Go get some sleep Bunny, it’s been a long evening.”

“Mhmm, see you tomorrow, Pooh.” Again, with the nickname. You feel like you’ve already outgrown it. Even your parents don’t call you that name anymore, but Heejin keeps on using it, and you don’t know why.

“Goodnight.” Deciding that it’s been long enough, you hang up first, and without even moving to the bedroom, just lay on the couch until sleep takes you.

-----

“Ah, wait!” Heejin pouts, looking at her phone. “This guy, still hanging up like that, maybe he didn’t grow that much after all.” Even while complaining, Heejin still has a smile plastered on her face.

When you left them 3 years ago, cutting off all contact, she was devastated. In one night, she lost her best friend of 20+ years, and her crush. It was with the joint effort from the rest of Loona that she is still willing to co-exist with Hyeju.

Even as groupmates, she can never forgive Hyeju for what she has done to you. Who would she side with: a groupmate of a few years, or a best friend of 20+ years? Being an idol might be her dream work, but she would never abandon you.

Ever.

And now, after years of sulking and wallowing in depression, she’s met you again with a stroke of luck. Though she can tell that you have changed a lot throughout the years, something just can’t be changed. Like how you were willing to hurt yourself to save others. Heck, you just saved the girls this evening after all.

It’s regretful that she can’t stay here for long, but now having a way to contact with you again, she will make sure to make full use of it-

“Unnie?” She turns to the open door, being caught off guard while thinking to herself. She sees Hyeju standing just outside the door. “What do you need?” Despite her best effort, Heejin’s voice still comes off as quite cold, which is understandable.

“Just now, you were talking with oppa, weren’t you?” she asks with a bit of trembling in her voice. “And it was him who saved us this evening?”

Heejin scoffs, not wanting to let Hyeju figure anything out. “Just a friend, not him.”

“But you only called one person ‘Pooh’.

Heejin’s eyes widened at that. “How much did you listen?” Hyeju turns timid at her glare. “The- the whole thing…”

Heejin faces palms herself. “And what do you want?” She isn’t trying to hide the venom in her voice anymore. “You betrayed him, twice at that. What more do you possibly want to do to him?”

Gathering her courage, Hyeju looks back at Heejin defiantly. “I want to…”

A/N 2: teehee, here’s your 5k words xD

#loona #artms #comission #male reader #son hyeju #olivia hye #jeon heejin #heejin #kpop fanfic

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sgiandubh · 9 months

Text

Such unsmiling people

The comment that moved me the most after posting that August 10 diatribe came from a very special blogger, @myrthil23. I promised her a longer, thoughtful answer, so here it is.

I share with her way more than meets the eye and with a bit of deductive skills, you could easily place us very specifically on an European map. To be honest, I was surprised (and then absolutely thrilled, of course) to find someone like her hanging on in here. But this is not the only reason prompting a response - her comment made me think a lot about a couple of relevant things.

For those who loathe foraging for reblogs, here goes:

In the colorful Shipper family, the Eastern Europeans are (supposedly) the unsmiling ones. This is one of the stubborn clichés that informed the Western gaze, especially in Communist times. Unsmiling, foreboding and unfathomable people: I am not smiling, I am laughing while writing it, because if anything, Myrthil, @zeya-zg, a couple of others and I do share a superb ability to use bullshit-o-meters, an unsinkable sense of humor and a hefty dose of sarcasm. All of these are basic, compulsory street smarts if you want to survive, God knows how, a nuclear winter of sorts.

Imagine you grow up in a world with empty supermarket shelves but permanently sold-out concert halls, where trivial details such as cotton swabs, potato chips (crisps, heh), political parties or The Last Tango in Paris are virtually unknown. Imagine your family is either cautiously aligned to some public idiocy they loathe everyday at home, teaching you at the same time to never talk to strangers. Or even worse, a political pariah, for reasons that have everything to do with the way you sip your tea, as Ella Fitzgerald would say. The latter situation (mine) was something very much akin to a civil death. And you just knew you could never be, for imbecile but firm reasons, an architect, a lawyer or even an epidemiologist: jobs way too sensitive to entrust the enemies of the people (and their spawn) with.

What is left for you, then, when the view from your window, in 1982, is something not very different from this photograph:

(side note: these people are staying in line to buy 1 kilogram of sugar for each person, which was the monthly allowance fixed by law in my country, from 1980 to 1989; you could only buy those with Government-issued tickets, not unlike what happened in the UK during WWII or what you can see in series like The Handmaid's Tale)

When all is seemingly lost, you will still have, in no particular order: books. Music (including piano lessons). Sports. Each other (although that was overall more complicated than it seemed). Going to the opera and never taking off your winter coat inside, but enjoying every second of it. Impromptu dinners by candlelight during power outages ("wir machen ein bisschen Stimmung"/let's make a bit of atmosphere, grinned my aunt). Foreign languages (a must). Fits and giggles and jokes galore. And the ability to adapt to just about anything, anywhere.

When change finally reached us, many had the almost surreal opportunity to go West. Some came back, others didn't, simply because they chose to continue elsewhere their pursuit of happiness. And yes, Myrthil is right, that fabled West was always something to behold and measure up to. In my case, it was almost too easy, but then I consider myself really lucky: going to live in Paris, at 18, felt both as homecoming and being left alone (and with unlimited credit) in a candy store.

So, here we are. We may have discovered Sylvia Plath a bit late, but I think we are decently knowledgeable about Chaucer. We sometimes may sound Edwardian and if we do, you should probably blame C.E. Eckersley's Essential English (this is how that life-long affair started, for me). And if anything, we bring another, perhaps even more inquisitive, angle to these strange things we are dealing with daily, in here.

But for the love of Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, don't you ever dare tell us what to think and with whom to talk. Don't call us stupid. Don't call us liars. Historical reasons prompted a durable allergy to sanctimonious speech and yes (I can only speak for myself) I will always, always react. Because we do not deserve the arrogance of people who have no idea of how it really was to grow up somewhere in Eastern Europe during the Eighties. Oh, and something else, lest I forget: being pariahs never bothered us - we can cope.

Other than that, we should go along just fine. :)

youtube

PS: @claraisabelcampohermoso, you probably don't know how your gif made me smile. Nadia will always be Nadia: a humble, warm person with a terribly heartbreaking story.

#fandom #Youtube

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whisk3ysugar · 11 months

Text

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, Feral!Miguel x Reader

Warnings: Smut without much of a plot!! Mentions of blood..

Word Count: 1786 (I think)

A/N: I saw @smotheredinlighterfluid post about this and I just had to try to write it out.. Um.. Its pretty bad but I TRIED. I TRIED... Also this is not a continuation to my last post/series/thing!

It was well known that Miguel O’Hara was a failed experiment. Or one of the sorts. However, he didn’t like to elaborate on what that meant exactly. Miguel rarely entrusted others with his own secrets. Much less people who depended on him to protect them. It wasn’t usual for Miguel to go around explaining how or why he had the powers he did, and he very much despised the idea of others gossiping about what he was or what his background was. He didn’t actually trust anyone. Not even the people he was supposedly closest to. Not even you.

You had been working on Miguel’s team of elite protectors for a few years now. But did that really mean anything? Did that actually make you any more valuable or trustworthy to him than it did anyone else? In your head, the answer was a very clear no. But that didn’t stop you from striving to be his favorite.

Sometimes you swore you hated him. Sometimes you made yourself believe he actually saw you. As a friend maybe. A partner? No, not that type. Just an acquaintance. Hopefully. But it wasn’t really the truth. You were just a weapon to him. An object. But did knowing that really change your view on him anyways? No. You still admired him as if he were a god. As if he were life itself. It was unfair really. Him not caring about you at all. You caring entirely about him. Years together, working, protecting eachother, and yet you still weren’t seen by him.

Well, that’s what you thought. None of it was really ever clear. Did he actually hate your guts? Did he really not care? You didn’t actually know. And to be honest.. Neither did he. He didn’t really see you as just another worker. Another slave to him. Another person who was there at his beck and call. No. You were closer than that. But he didn’t need to express that. He would never allow himself to indulge in such fantasies. Never.

So why was it all crumbling down withing seconds? Why was he letting loose so easily? Why the hell was he actually letting himself come undone? It wasn’t like that, no, not at all. He would never purposely let himself ease his needs. It wasn’t ever about him. His line of work did not allow any space for that.

This wasn’t a typical thing. Absolutely not. He was different. There was something entirely different about his whole.. persona. He wasn’t as calm and collected as he’d normally be. The side of him that was put together must’ve threw itself out the window because why the hell else would he be so aggravated when heading to work. It wasn’t like he did anything differently lately. His routine was perfectly put together for every single day of his life. He never broke the order. Except for today.

His fists were clenched together tightly as he headed into his office. He needed to get work done. Protect people. Do his god damn job. Everyone needed him. Or that’s what he liked to tell himself at least. When his mind wandered.

“Good morning, Miguel”

He didn’t even need to turn to see who was speaking to him. Every morning was the same. You’d always greet him quietly while heading to your side of the office. He would rather die than admit it, but he enjoyed seeing you everyday, and hearing your voice call his name. Today was no different. That’s what he tried to convince himself. But it was different.

His eyes wandered. Wandered to you. Sat at a far desk, monitoring what you needed to, writing reports, doing your job. Like he should be doing. That didn’t matter though. His mind was swirling with thoughts. Thoughts like ‘What the hell is happening to me?’ or ‘Why is this happening?’ He didn’t really need that question answered. He knew why these things were happening to him.

It wasn’t regular for his ‘urges’, (to put it lightly), to come to him. Failed experiments do come with side-effects after all. Why would he be any different? Usually he’d take some time to himself to relax. To wear off the unavoidable effects. But not today. It hit him like whiplash today. And he’d have to endure the feeling of heat building in his core. Fueling his whole body. Taking absolutely everything in him to hold himself back.

How could he though? How could he hold back when you fluttered your eyelashes in such a sultry manner. Were you doing it on purpose? Were you staring at him like that because you knew what was happening to him? No, of course not. He wouldn’t expose himself like that so easily.

“Is something wrong, Miguel?”

“No.”

“You’re sweating..”

“It’s hot in here.”

“Do you want me to turn on the air conditioning?”

You spoke as you made your way out of your chair and over to his desk where the AC just so happened to be.

It wasn’t like you meant for it all to happen. You didn’t mean to brush your thigh against his leg. You didn’t mean to look at him the way you did. But you couldn’t hide it when he was so close and just emanating ferocity.

You didn’t mean to end up shoved onto his desk. Fighting to escape the binds of your own clothing.

But you did.

He was fed up with everything. He needed release. Release of his pent up frustrations.. Release of his emotions. Release of everything. So he would have to use you. Not that you minded. He had practically swept you off your feet when he grabbed at your thighs and plopped you on the desk. You actually quite enjoyed the feeling of his claws digging through your clothing and into your plush skin. The feeling of blood trailing down from the tiny cuts forced you to squeeze your thighs together. And as quick as he left the marks, he lapped up the wounds to ease the pain.

He was like a feral animal. Ripping your clothes off and feeling you up anywhere and everywhere. He needed to feel every part of your body. Every crease, crevice, nook, and cranny. His lips had to trail and ghost over your bare skin. He had to sink his fangs into your skin. He couldn’t hold him back. No one could.

It was all you could ever even dream of. All those thoughts you had conjured up in your dirty mind. All of it was unraveling in this moment. His hand gripping oh-so-tightly on your hips as he ground himself into your thigh. His erection only growing as he tasted your delicious skin on his rough tongue. You tasted like heaven to him, and he couldn’t pull himself away. He didn’t care if someone walked in. He couldn’t bring himself to give a single fuck. You were all he needed right now.

“Need to feel you. Please.”

“You don’t need to beg, amor.”

And with that, he fell to his knees. As he moved down, he eyed your gorgeous body. So tough. So strong. He kissed at your thighs and nibbled at the inner parts. Surely leaving bite marks and littered hickeys all over.

His glove was slipped off gently. Contrasting the intensity of how he was stuffing his thick fingers into your entrance now. He simply needed to prep you before you’d take him. It wasn’t like he was entirely pent up. He had to make sure you could take all of him without stopping. Make sure you could enjoy what he was about to enjoy.

He worked his fingers in and out of your slick entrance. The gathered slick helping him move his fingers deeper Your moans and whimpers only fueling his desire. But there really was only so much he could take.

He had to slip out his fingers before he’d wrap his messy hand around his thick length. He was painfully hard, and he direly needed to be deep inside you. So he lined himself up with the slick entrance before him.

“Please, Miguel. Please, need you so bad.”

“I know.”

He exhaled as he bottomed out inside you. His entire length slipping in slowly. He couldn’t contain the growls that escaped his mouth. Instead of grabbing at the desk and clawing at papers, he decided to wrap his arms around your thighs and lifting you up so he could shove himself even deeper. If that was even possible.

He didn’t need permission to start thrusting. He just did His entire cock practically scraped at your walls and his nails dug deep as he paced himself. This wasn’t about you, unfortunately. He had to relieve himself of everything that had piled up on him. He had to let go of that side of him which he had hidden and locked away. He had to reveal a side of him to you which he’d never reveal to anyone else. In moments like these when he’s buried deep inside your core, literally pulsating at the feeling of your walls clenching down on him, he reveals himself to you. He indulges in those desires which he’s never indulged in. He comes undone.

It only takes a couple more rough thrusts for him to starts slowing down. You, a panting mess under him, can barely hold on any longer.

“Miguel.. please let me cum. Please..”

“...”

“Please..”

“Cum.”

He snakes a thick hand down to rub at your core. His thrusts faltering and coming to a slow. You clench and wrap around him as you throw your head back. Your wave hitting you so quickly you almost get whiplash. But that doesn’t stop him. He continues his deep thrusts, not letting up with his pace. He’s finally able to let go Finally able to have you to himself.

He thrusts deeply then pulls out to release on your tummy. He can’t afford any.. side effects. But he can allow himself to give you a taste.

It almost made him flush at the way you jumped at the opportunity to clean him up. The mess he left on your stomach quickly forgotten as you pressed your lips against his softening cock. The way he looked down at you with heavy lids gave away everything it needed to.

“Thank you, amor.”

He spoke softly as you cleaned up the mess you left behind. You smiled softly and leaned up to press a kiss to his stomach.

“What happened to you?”

“Side effect of being a failed experiment.”

“I love it.”

“You’re the only one.”

#miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman into the spiderverse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #iminlovewithmiguelohara #spiderman x reader

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inevitably-ineffable-husbands · 9 months

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Crowley's Past: Was He Archangel Camael?

With S2 now having been out for a few weeks, and the theories running wild, I think one of the unanimous beliefs within the fandom is that Crowley was SOME sort of Important Angel Before™. I touch upon the MANY clues in the various parts of my initial GOS2 Thoughts Meta, so I won't go into too many of those here, but inevitably this separate meta started out as the pulling-and-expanding-upon of the Archangel Crowley theory, primarily the "Raphael" theory, since I have loved that theory to bits since its inception early post-S1.

That was until my friend Peter finished watching the season early last week, and presented to me an alternative theory as to Crowley's identity that I thought deserved its own post breakdown, since I haven't seen this theory before.

NOW, I should make it clear I haven't been as DEEP in the fandom as many of y'all since S1 aired, so it's probably come up before S2 as just a light mention, but I personally haven't seen anything, so what follows is a joint speculation between my real-life, not-in-GO-fandom-spaces-whatsoever friend Peter, and myself, with my contributions being the expansion of his theory and linking it to what we already know.

The theory is this: Crowley might actually be Archangel Camael.

Please, PLEASE note that I am aware that authors and writers change things for creative liberty and originality, so please take this entire theory with a grain of salt (or go nuts with me, I'm happy either way!).

I'll TRY to keep this concise, but y'all know me. You can skip right to the "Conclusion" for a point-by-point breakdown if you don't want to read everything, but I hope you'll at least give me a chance to explain within the body of this meta.

I apologize in advance if any of my thoughts are a bit scattered. Here we go:

The Initial Text

Here is the initial text Peter sent to me after he finished watching S2 (and this was after I mentioned that the popular running fandom theory is that he's actually Raphael):

Okay… well - disclaimer I did not go to religious school and my biblical studies were a great many years ago. As I recall Lucifer was not one of the 7 archangels - he was meant to be but he rebelled before he was appointed (and there is some wiggle for a fictional story). So, based on what we have seen Crowley was one of the 7 but he hung out with the wrong people and asked too many questions. He never says his real name when we see him as an angel it is comically dodged - for a good reason. Crowley has a login and proves he had clearance way above a level 37th angel. He can see the top most important meetings… like he may have been allowed to attend in a previous life… And one line sticks out to me “one fallen prince has already gone to Hell. Two shows a problem.” As I stated Lucifer was not a Prince - we are not talking about him. Gabriel was banking on going to Hell like his “brother” - I’m guessing Camael, the one who Sees God - who ironically has cursed eyes now as a demon - the Prince of Fortitude (also Love and Charity). He often breaks his demonic spirit in cases of charitable needs or love. Crowley is one of the big Seven to be entrusted with creating the cosmos ;)

Naturally, this had a lot of things click for me, and I'm going to break them down below, with my additional research into the points that Peter made since he mentioned that he was going off memory.

Who Was Cameal?

When Peter mentioned this angel, it boggled my mind that I never actually recall knowing of this archangel. I went to a Roman Catholic school up until Grade 12, and with that comes Religious Ed classes, which also feature World Religions in the later grades. Funnily enough, I found out WHY I never heard of Camael:

Camael is not recognized by the Catholic Church due to the Vatican's decision to ban the veneration of angels not mentioned in the Bible [SOURCE]

Kind of explains why I only heard of Gabriel, Michael, and Raphael (which now adds another layer to a theory I will cover further down in "Does Crowley Remember?"), then.

Reading further:

[He] is the Archangel of strength, courage and war in Christian and Jewish mythology and angelology. [SOURCE] He is claimed to be the leader of the forces that expelled Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden holding a flaming sword. However, in iconography he is often depicted holding a cup. [SOURCE]

A Flaming Sword, you say??? Interesting. Here's a good place to point out that there IS also a theory that Crowley and Aziraphale are one single archangel that was split into two (and Gaiman has stated that in original drafts of the original book, they were at first one character, so this fact might be an afterthought of that original idea). Also, interesting that this angel is depicted with a cup, traditionally used in Christianity to depict wine, which is Crowley's drink-of-choice. So, there's that.

Another standout point for me is the Adam and Eve bit (which I bolded above). The Snake of Eden is TECHNICALLY the instigator (the "leader") who encouraged the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden. "Forces" in this reading of it could be the metaphorical definition of it; the knowledge of good and evil, and the desire to see beyond the Garden. AND also the Flaming Sword itself BEING the object of force given to the couple for protection.

Furthermore, Crowley's a strong and brave character, given all the shit he endures time and time again. Strength (and bravery for that matter) can mean many things: emotional strength, physical strength, possibly also a strength of character and an unwavering belief in the values one holds dear. I should also note that it's interesting that an angel of war, should Crowley indeed be this character, wants nothing to do with a war and is actively trying to stop one: an angel of War can absolutely NOT want a war, because he knows it's wrong.

And without the Angel of War up in Heaven to PREVENT any war at all? Well, they would just get all willy-nilly crazy on the idea of War without having any pushback on it, wouldn't they?

Kind of like how Gabriel was to be demoted (cast out) for denying Heaven a War. Funny old world, isn't it? Seems the parallels write themselves.

What's in a Name?

Because Peter mentioned the name meaning, I had to look into it myself, and indeed, one of the various meanings of Camael is apparently "he who sees God" in Hebrew.

As Peter stated above, I think this is very significant because it's seemingly only Crowley who has "demon" eyes that he himself cannot change. It's the ONLY part of him that always remains a constant, and why he is forced to hide them. We know from S1 and bits of S2 with Shax that other demons can change their eyes because we see them mimicking other humans time and again without the black eyes if they choose to.

Crowley's eyes could have been cursed specifically because was ordained as "the one who sees God" and possibly was the ONLY angel who ever "saw" a physical God in the literal sense (it's implied in the show that no one actually SEES a physical god). It's possible that Crowley being cast out literally burned his angelic eyes and left a visible scar that can't be fixed or erased – a forever-reminder of what he did and can no longer do. AND as the one who sees God, he indeed was a very high-ranking angel.

In the GO universe, I suspect he was indeed the FIRST Supreme Archangel, tasked with creating God's Vision (HAH) of the Universe. And when Crowley questioned what the point of creating such beauty was only for it to be destroyed, God (or, I suspect more likely, the other Angels) saw it as Crowley questioning their "vision" in the metaphorical sense.

Does Crowley Remember?

In light of Season 2, and some interesting exchanges and moments of Crowley with other angels, some people speculate (and as I watch the series more, I'm starting to also agree somewhat) that Crowley may not remember everything from Before.

Now, while I do like this theory a lot, and it makes sense with the context clues from S2, I don't think it's that he doesn't remember anything at all, however, as many versions of the theory postulates.

My speculation is this: what if, by having his Angelic Name removed from recognition in the Bible, and going through a similar Trial to Gabriel, THEN by Falling the traditional way, the memories are still there, but they're just a bit fuzzy and scattered? It could also explain why some of the other Archangels DON'T remember him... he was removed from the memories of other ranking angels (Saraqael is the only angel to seemingly remember who Crowley was, so I postulate that she WASN'T a top angel until fairly recently, because of the named angels in the next section).

The show brings up the Book of Life in S2 on several occasions, leaving me to believe that this will be an important item in the next season. What if the phrase "it will make it like you don't exist" literally means "don't exist in memories"? Maybe a Book of Life 1.0 existed at one time, and everyone who Fell was forgotten because their angelic names were removed. Because wouldn't that be more awful than never having existed? Remembering that you WERE something or someone, you had a name that you can't remember, that you WERE important to people and events, and having everyone around you who you considered family forget who you are? It's its own kind of personal Hell ... kind of like George Bailey in It's a Wonderful Life, a movie that references angels, funnily enough. And Crowley remembers the furniture being there but not where it all belongs. I think his memory haziness is also a side effect of Falling the traditional way (burning sulfer and all that jazz, possibly causes trauma amnesia?).

It's a stretch here, I know, but I thought I would put this one out there as a possibility as to what it could mean (given that Gaiman and Pratchett tend to "play on words" a lot, I think it is worth mentioning this as an alternative meaning).

In S2, when Gabriel was sentenced, the Trial stated that Gabriel would forget his time as Gabriel, but not his time as an angel. I think a similar thing happened with Crowley, only much more violently with the "burning the eyes out" and "staining his wings black" thing.

My friend Peter mentioned that the show avoided Crowley's Before-Name "to a comical degree". I reckon, rather, that Crowley just simply doesn't remember his Angelic name, and his changing of his demon names is him possibly trying to find an identity. I think he recalls it having started with a "C", maybe? And now he's a snake, so he's kind of crawl-y, must be "Crawley". As time moved forward and as he learned more and more about humanity, he changed is namee to fit in better. Having a full Human-esque name makes him feel more connected to the Humanity he prefers.

And because I'm a romantic sap at heart, I think he enjoys spending time with Aziraphale because perhaps some part of Azzie's presence helps Crowley remember bits and pieces of his broken memory. He is LITERALLY Crowley's Emotional Support Angel – remember Shax can read into people, it seems. Azzie brings comfort to him, and seeing another Angel that also questions the choices Heaven makes allows Crowley to feel less alone.

The Original Seven Archangels

It's brought up a couple to several times in S2 the point that "God loves sevens". I actually couldn't remember why Seven was such a big Biblical number so a bit of quick Googling reminded me that "Seven [...] communicated a sense of “fullness” or “completeness” [...]. This makes sense of the pervasive appearance of “seven” patterns in the Bible." (SOURCE).

And of course, after Peter had mentioned it, I had to look a bit more into who the Original 7 could possibly be. Wikipedia mentions it could be Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Camael, Jophiel, and Zadkiel.

Peter was correct in his assumption that Lucifer wasn't one of the original 7 archangels, so that leaves us with Raphael, Camael, Jophiel, and Zadkiel, if we're assuming that Crowley is one of these top Archangels.

I would also like to speculate that "God likes 7's" could also mean (if you allow me to reach a bit) "God's favourite angels are the initial 7". If Crowley happened to be one of these 7, it could explain why he's able to get into Heaven without raising alarm at all, why he still maintains his immense power that set off alarms in Heaven when it was used purposefully against Heaven, why he was able to access the Gabriel Files, and why Sarqael allowed Crowley to continue watching the Trial (because if God allowed Crowley access even when he's no longer an angel, then Sarqael has no reason to believe that he's still not important to God).

Perhaps, in Modern Day, only having four archangels making the decisions symbolizes that, indeed, God's not really calling the shots anymore – and hasn't been for a long time – and that the whole system is all broken and not complete.

It also begs the question: if Crowley was one of the Original Seven (if they are indeed going to go in that direction), what happened to the other three? Did they also suffer the same fates? Were they turned to Scriveners just like Gabriel was to be?

Here is where I will also throw out there that my random thought that Muriel possibly also may have been one of the other three, as my own expansion of this theory, but I digress.

Anyway, I think I found the original Fandom Wiki that Peter quick-referenced when doing his quick message to me, and it's very interesting:

How they were founded as a unit is unknown, but it is said that it happened during Lucifer's rebellion. When Lucifer rebelled against God, one entire choir of angels followed him and was lost. Many angels from other choirs also followed him in his rebellion. It is revealed that Lucifer was meant to be apart of the Seven Archangels as well, however, since his fall he was replaced by Camael.

Disclaimer here that I understand that Fandom Wiki isn't THE BEST resource, but we're also talking about a fictional story that loosely references actual scripture, so I think it's valid enough, heh.

But I bring this point up because Peter links it to Metatron mentioning the "Prince of Heaven" falling, as Gabriel as being "another" one. "Another one" what?? We have to assume that Metatron means another "Supreme Archangel" as holding the title of "Prince of Heaven", meaning Gabriel was NOT the first and only Supreme Archangel. I don't think Metatron is referencing Lucifer here. In fact, they deliberately avoid saying a name. We just ASSUME that it was Lucifer because that's the "common knowledge".

If GO is going to reference the theory that Lucifer actually fell BEFORE becoming an Archangel, then that means in my theory Crowley became his replacement of the Original Seven. And given that he was possibly the One (and only angel, in my above theory) Who Sees God, he was in-turn given the position of Supreme Archangel, charged with creating, again, God's Vision of the Universe.

I think having Crowley be the one who witnesses Gabriel's Trial is important if we're going on the theory that they are mirrors of each other in S2. What if:

Crowley ALSO had a similar Trial when he questioned God (or the other Archangels) about "what's the point of" the destruction of the universe, then subsequently saying "nah" to having Armageddon 6,000 years before the events of S1?;

In said Trial, Gabriel was a presiding member, and, given that we know his prior cruelty from S1, he voted on Camael being cast out in a vicious and cruel fashion "for betraying God". Thus, his eyes burnt and forever scarred to prevent him from ever seeing God again, had his name and memories removed from the Book of Life, and sent to on a one way trip to Hell. I speculate this because Trial-Gabriel certainly believe he was going to "Fall" that way. I'd also wager Camael/Crowley was the last angel to ever "properly" Fall, which is why the modern angels still think that they do it this way, rather than the way they planned for Gabriel. I realize that this point DOES contradict my theory about the other missing Archangels quietly being erased and reassigned, but perhaps BECAUSE Gabriel is SO High up the chain, they HAD no choice but to make an example of him. Perhaps Metatron just quietly deleted the other Archangels' original names without anyone's knowledge.

We now know from S2 that regardless of an angel's status, the angels will veto against anyone who goes against their interpretation of The Great Plan. We now also know that the "Supreme Archangel" is also a "title only" job that has benefits only if you're going to go with the Majority Vote. And if you don't, they're going to make an example out of you.

And I reckon Camael/Crowley, just like Gabriel after, tried to "go his own way" (as quoted by the Metatron) and got banished for it.

Aziraphale really now has himself in a pickle, and I suspect that he will figure ALL of this out when he gets there.

And finally because this is the "Sevens" section of this meta, I also want to mention these "a-bit-reaching-but-still-plausible-theories" that I came across while I was researching:

This tweet speculates that Gabe is morse coding "7"

Michael tweeted 7 dots after S2 aired

CONCLUSION

While this theory doesn't outright bust the Raphael Theory (since there are some similarities with Crowley and Raphael within the theory), as well as the "he was Lucifer" theory (which I also really like, but Crowley mentioned in S1 he was "hanging out with Lucifer and the guys" before he fell, so... I'm more apt to not really run with this theory). BUT it does tie up a lot more things, and it connects things better than the Raphael one does, in my humble opinion.

The TL;DR of this entire post is this:

I think Crowley was an Archangel, that is the only CERTAIN thing I feel.

I think he was Camael, The One (and only angel) Who (Literally) Sees God. He was the First Supreme Archangel who created God's Vision of the Universe.

I think that Camael questioned the Council of Angels why they need to destroy beauty that God created. It didn't make sense to him.

They told him about Armageddon (the S1 one). As the angel of war, and as the Supreme Archangel who had final say, he said "nah". And he tried "to go his own way" to avoid Armageddon.

The Council and Metatron did not like this, saw it as blaspheming against God. Camael then had a Trial similar to Gabriel's.

I think this all happened shortly after the war that sent down Lucifer and the other rebelling Angels, so Heaven was still VERY tetchy about anyone who questioned God and The Great Plan. Because Camael was a Supreme Archangel, the original Prince of Heaven, this was seen as SEVERE betrayal of the Council. For the record, I think the "Before the Beginning" sequence takes place AFTER the War that created Hell.

My belief about the Book of Life is that its ACTUAL purpose is to remove people from being remembered, which is far worse of an existence for someone banished. A metaphorical interpretation of "removed from existence" simply could mean "and everyone forgot about you", à la It's a Wonderful Life, a movie that references "angels getting their wings".

Camael was sentenced in a way that would make an example of him to other angels to remind them of their place: He was cast out of Heaven, his angelic name erased from the Book of Life which caused his other Council Members at the time to forget him, and for him to have foggy memories in turn, although he KNOWS he was an angel (perhaps as a side effect of being cast out the traditional way, you are forced to remember that you once lived in Heaven). His eyes were burnt out to quite literally leave an unremovable scar so he could no longer "see" God and their vision, which explains why Crowley cannot ever change his eyes regardless of how he presents himself. He has to hide them away.

I think Crowley was the last angel to be cast out in this way. BUT because his ANGEL name was erased, none of the remaining Original Council angels (Gabriel, Michael, and Uriel) recognize him. I suspect Sarqael remembers him because she was NOT an Archangel at the time since she was not one of the Original Seven Archangels.

I also suspect that there are purposely missing Archangels for a reason, and the fact that only 4 rather than 7 seemingly run things symbolizes the problems in Heaven and that God has not been in charge for a long time. I think those missing 3 or 4 are actually Scriveners, who were quietly sentenced and erased by the Metatron, hence why Gabriel thought that he was going to be cast out like his predecessor. But because Gabriel WAS a Supreme Archangel, he HAD to be made an example of, just as Crowley before.

"Supreme Archangel" is a Title-Only job, and if you go against the Council, you are indeed made an example of. I think this is purposeful setup for S3 to show that Azzie is in DEEP shit.

EPILOGUE

I still want to expand upon my Angel Theory section from my S2 Meta, but for now, I am so pleased with how this turned out, and I hope you've enjoyed this Deep Dive into another Archangel Theory. I had a lot of fun with this one; I like learning about supernatural things, it's always interesting.

I am interested in others' thoughts on this theory, especially if your memory of your religious education is a bit better than mine! Feel free to expand upon this more, because I am an interactive blog, so it will be added to the post! <3

I hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!

#good omens #good omens s2 #long post #spoilers #archangel crowley #crowley is camael #good omens meta #go meta #my meta #my theories #angel crowley #crowley was an archangel #go speculations #go theories #go s3 speculations

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itachi-with-a-chicken · 8 months

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Today I'm here to traumatize you with something probably not so groundbreaking but!! It broke my mind!! So I'm gonna share

I've been thinking about the sentence "you said 'trust me'" and why it felt a bit strange. Like, sure, Crowley trusts Aziraphale. We know that, we know Aziraphale knows that, they say it explicitly for once, so what is the matter

Well, the matter is that Aziraphale asked Crowley to trust him, like it was Aziraphale shooting the shot, but in reality we know it was Crowley the one with the loaded gun

So what was Crowley trusting?

Well, Crowley was trusting Aziraphale, who in return was trusting Crowley with his - technically only corporal - life.

Now, aside for the entire ordeal of not being actually dead only discorporated and ecc ecc, let's speak symbolism

Because in my humble opinion, this is the closest thing we have to an admission of feelings from both of them.

On one side, we have Aziraphale - who is having a quite exciting night between the nazis, the show, the miracle not working, the hots for his knight in a shining armor - who is saying "I know for sure you will never hurt me, you'll find a way, everything will be fine"

If we ever gonna get Aziraphale admitting he's lost his faith, I believe he's gonna recall this moment. He's not praying God, he's on his own, and he's not afraid

(what was it? Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me)

On the other side, Crowley is just having a nightTM: saving their angel in distress (nice), him being grateful (NICE), contraband gone wrong (less nice), flirting with the angel (I don't know how else to call it)(niiice)

A normal tuesday.

Then, the miracle stopped working and they are on their own and they're pointing a loaded gun to their angel and oh boy things are going south fastly. The camera does a great amazing job in expressing how stressed Crowley feels with the trembling and the movement, just right on the spot. It starts trembling from the moment the gun is passed to Crowley, and its underlined when they cut to Furfur and it's perfectly stable, and stops only when the trick is done (amazing I love it)

Crowley is terrified, but Aziraphale said "Trust me" and he did. Only, it's not Aziraphale who is doing the risky part in theory, by shooting and aiming while never firing an arm before. But in practice? He totally is.

From facts, it's not news for us that they'd do anything to keep the other safe, but they can never acknowledge it, right? But here he is, entrusting his very own existence in Crowley capable hands and not only it's risky for a number of reasons, no, that's straight away nuts from any point of view. And it's even nutter (ehehehe like Agnes) when you realize he's doing the very same thing in the 67 by gifting him holy water.

I've always found odd that change of heart by Aziraphale. I couldn't only be because he found the entire heist thing silly, but it's not like they gave us more material to work with.

But in the light of what we saw in the 41 I feel a little bit more certain to say that Aziraphale is moving on the same feeling he moved in the bullet catch.

"I trust you to not hurt me, I trust you to not kill yourself because you know what it would mean to me"

Of course, they cannot speak of it. Of course, all they have is flirty banter and Crowley hyping Aziraphale up for his show. Of course, when Aziraphale gave them holy water, he nearly couldn't stop their feelings from coming to the surface and Aziraphale needed to be the one to put a break on it. They had one (1) public appearance and it took an earthly miracle to not get discovered.

All they had, for so much time, was those silent confessions and those candle light lit and glasses of wine shared. Someday, tho, they will dine at the Ritz (metaphorically, too). (And maybe have some go--sat--damn explicit conversation about their mutual feelings towards each other)

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morporkian-cryptid · 1 year

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Jigen changed Nisei's mind about Lupin being a thief

Originally, Nisei was dead-set on Lupin becoming an honest man. He never considered his son's desires, why would he? He's his father and he knows better. Being a thief is dangerous, and he wants Lupin to be safe. The kid already suffered enough at Isei's hands.

He started considering it after he saw Lupin's First Heist - or at least understanding how important this was to Lupin, and that he couldn't make him back down. You can see it in his (Shinobu's) eyes, that he understands.

But even understanding Lupin's decision, he still tried to keep Lup away from the drama, tricking him into going to Nagano, out the bomb's range. Maybe he was starting to accept that he couldn't keep Lupin from becoming a thief one day, but he was still doing his damnedest to stop him from jumping into the action. Even after he was unmasked, he refused to give up the information Lupin needed, even pulling a gun on his son.

And then Jigen pulled a gun on Nisei, and Nisei did a 180 and offered Lupin a chance to prove himself.

Because he knew that with Jigen by his side, Lupin would be safe.

He hadn't see Jigen fight yet, I think as far as Jigen's skills go he trusted Lupin's choice - Lupin's first heist as Lupin the Third was stealing Jigen's heart, for God's sake, even Nisei can understand what that means.

He knew that Lupin had chosen Jigen, and the moment Jigen pulled a gun on him, he had confirmation that the inverse was true too. That Lupin had succeeded, that Jigen had agreed to be stolen, that by that point he would do anything to protect his partner. Jigen would have shot Nisei without hesitation if he'd done anything to threaten Lupin. And that is what changed Nisei's mind. That is what convinced him to give Lupin a chance - not give him his blessing, no fully accept his decision yet, but to give him a chance to prove himself. Because even with Lupin's skill, Nisei would only let him go if someone had his back.

"With this kid by his side, maybe my son will be safe."

Nisei may be terrible at being a father, but he genuinely cares about his son, he wants him to be safe. He went out of his way time and time again to protect him, as Phoolan in ep. 3 and as Shinobu in ep. 5. He knew he couldn't stop Lupin from pursuing his own path (he saw Lup going to Isei's contest and didn't try to stop him, he knew that Lup was installing traps in the house and didn't tear them down). He knows he can't really stop Lupin from pursuing that path, but he's trying as much as possible to delay it. To shield him from the full consequences of his choice.

"Being a thief is a two-way street. It's not just about what you acquire. Because you always lose a fair share, too."

This was what Nisei was trying to protect Lupin from, I think. Not from the physical dangers of thievery (Lup already put himself in plenty of trouble), but from the emotional damage. From losing things, people. I don't know what Nisei lost - I'm guessing Lupin's mother, but that's more a headcanon than a real theory. Nisei wanted to spare his son that pain. But with Jigen by his side, to support him, maybe Lupin is ready to handle that pain now. (And man did Lupin learn that lesson fast.)

"Consider the Walther a little farewell present from me."

Nisei's not going to be in Lupin's life anymore (not that he was ever very present, but that's another can of worms). And he's only agreeing to let Lupin go on his own, after Lupin has proven his skill, and after he's found someone to have his back. Nisei isn't going to protect Lupin anymore. He's trusting that Lupin is skilled enough to stay on top, and that if his skills ever fail him, Jigen will have his back.

He's entrusting his son's safety to Jigen.

#anyway i have been losing my entire shit about this since yesterday #nisei just wanted to protect his son #and jigen is the reason he agreed to let him go #lupin iii #lupin zero #lupin zero spoilers #lupin ii #lupin the second #jigen #daisuke jigen

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fellamarsh · 2 months

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📣 Call for Beta Readers for Taker of the Third Path 📣

Writeblr! I am super excited to announce that I'm looking for beta readers for Taker of the Third Path! If this is your first time hearing about the project, here's the synopsis:

Directed by the voice on the wind he calls god, traveling hedgewitch Linmiru settles in an abandoned inn at an ancient crossroads to watch for the next person to follow the overgrown “third path." Ton’s prophecy is deceptively simple: the fate of the world rests on Lin meeting the taker. But as the months drag on with this mysterious stranger nowhere in sight, Lin begins to form a connection with one of the inn’s guests that leaves him questioning his devotion to destiny… And when the taker finally does arrive, Linmiru must face the realization that nothing at the old crossroads has been as it seems.

Interested? Here's the details:

Word count: ~100k (split into two approximately equal sections)

Genres: queer romance (trans MLM), fantasy, potential tragedy

Themes and motifs: fate, grief, guilt and forgiveness, the past and the future, healing and redemption, revenge, love, circles and spirals, fate vs choice, names, ghosts, home, family, threads that connect vs threads that bind, journeys and return, power

Desired feedback: Broad strokes! Right now, I'm most interested in what works and what doesn't work about the story, specifically its plot and characters. Feedback about character development and dynamics, pacing, and clarity of concepts is what is most helpful to me. If accepted as a reader, I'll provide you with both a list of specific questions and a place to leave open ended feedback. Utilize either or both!

Beta period: Four to six weeks for each half, with some flexibility. Files and questionnaires for part 1 of the beta will be sent out in mid-April 2024; I anticipate sending out part 2 beginning of June 2024. If accepted as a reader I'll reach out to you in March to confirm your participation.

Content warnings: “Off-screen” child and sexual abuse; explicit, detailed, consensual sexual content; death; threats of violence; self harm; attempted suicide; manipulation; mild hallucinations; natural disasters; forced relocation; imperialist violence. If you would like to inquire about the presence of a specific trigger not mentioned here, please do so in the optional question at the end of the form, send me an ask or DM, or reach out to me via the email in the form.

Interest form here! By filling it out, you're not agreeing to beta for this project---simply indicating your interest to do so, so if you think you might want to do it but aren't totally sure you'll have time yet or etc, you're still more than welcome to submit!

Want to learn more about Taker of the Third Path? Read the full summary (under the cut), browse my taker of the third path tag, or check out a free preview on Patreon!

Linmiru Oddatma has spent the last ten years wandering. In accordance with the agreement they made the day he cast off his childhood name, Lin trusts that Ton, the Windblown, god of things caught in the wind, will lead him to the people who most need the help that he is best equipped to render. He fully intends to dedicate his life to this work. When he pictures his future, it is a spiral widening, taking him ever further from where he’s been before.

He never imagines that Ton will entrust him with a prophecy so powerful and profound that it will change the world.

Now Lin finds himself an innkeeper in the remote Kagognair Fastness, his wandering arrested by lonely days spent watching and waiting for the one who will next travel the overgrown third path outside his door. He does not know what will happen when they meet—but he does know that failing to do so carries deadly consequences.

Thankfully, he has a few distractions to help him pass his long days besides doing divinations to better understand Ton’s instructions. The faerie village of E'Dedga, situated in the adjacent valley, is more than eager to allow him to teach its cadre of magically gifted children. Lin is especially grateful to find Rukne, a boy increasingly alienated from his peers by his start-and-go magical development, among his students. The young faerie is exactly the type of person Lin longs to help the most. Rukne, more than anyone he's ever met, reminds him of the person he lost so long ago.

Naturally, Linmiru has visitors to the inn to entertain as well. His favorite is Olma, an aging wizard who spends her stays cracking jokes, smoking pipeweed, and regaling Lin with stories from her youth.

But not all of Linmiru’s guests are quite so delightful. In fact, his most regular visitor is anything but.

Linmiru confirmed the day he first met Gent that he is not the taker of the third path—just as he confirmed his wish that the man never come back. Quiet, impenetrable, and with a name that is not a name at all, Gent returns to the Siffsarta with disturbing frequency. Whenever he's not holed up in his room or glaring at him in hateful silence, Gent insults Lin’s religion and interrogates his reasons for running the inn. Lin can handle a bit of rudeness, but Gent’s presence sets him on edge. He seems to want something from Lin; what it is, he has no idea.

But the worst thing about Gent isn’t the fact that he might be dangerous. It’s that, despite all reason, Linmiru is attracted to him.

As the wheel of the seasons turns, Lin learns more about Gent, about the faeries, and about the Fastness—a place of deep magic with a long and ancient history. In contrast, he understands less and less about the coming prophecy. Ton's answers to his questions are vague, cryptic, or absent entirely. Lin's frustration with his situation, with himself, and with his god only grows. He begins to feel—and Ton confirms—that there is something he's not quite seeing.

He doesn’t think Ton means Gent’s attraction to him, unnoticed by Lin until the instant before he first kissed him. Nor does he think Ton means the realization, deep into the nights he spends with Gent, that he is starting not to care about the prophecy. If he could get to the heart of what has brought Gent here, of what happened in his past, and help this man who is somehow more gentle with him than anyone has ever been, he wouldn't mind if the world as he knew it came to an end. Maybe then the dreams of his past that increasingly plague him would end, too.

As winter bears down—as Lin finds Rukne ostracized by the people of his village—as he learns the terrible meaning behind Gent's real name—as the past and the future run together, compressing into the present, Lin finds himself, at a critical moment, unable to move. The truth behind Ton’s prophecy is nothing like he ever expected.

If he doesn't want everything to end when he finally confronts the taker of the third path, Linmiru will have to be like a spiral, and turn away in the same movement that he turns back.

#taker of the third path #call for beta readers #writeblr

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pinkandpurple360 · 5 months

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Honestly, if Stol-aas is treating anyone like Quasimodo, it's Octavia.

A child raised, not out of care, but personal interest, delusion and fear of the consequences for failing to do so.

The only two times we've seen Stolas interact with Via were:

Him half-heartedly comforting her after an equally half-hearted attempt to cheer her up after ruining their family, all the while he spent the trip to Loo Loo Land trying to force himself on the same man he cheated with. Ending it with a promise to change, which he does.... For the worse.

Him looking for her after she ran away and stole the artifact he was entrusted with by his own father, almost immediately getting sidetracked with trying to "fix" things with Blitz. All because he was so distracted trying to turn her against Stella that he forgot he made her a promise to take her to see the meteor shower.

Both times he only comes back to caring about Octavia when he's reminded or shown that she might be in danger, which would be bad news for him since she's his only heir. He only cares about her when faced with the prospect of her no longer being fit to take over his duties and let him fully pursue his depraved whims.

It's easy to make the case that Stol-ass is just Frollo but even more evil.

Oh. My. God. This is Fire. You’re right.

I’m just remembering the time stolas said “the only reason I’ve endured your insults and cruelty was for that girl to have a normal life” He says ‘that girl’ with a lot of pent up resentment and bitterness.

And now for some reason he thinks that because she’s 17 “it’s over and I’m done” she doesn’t need both parents anymore? She doesn’t need a normal life anymore? Her dad? What do you mean you’re done stolas? Why ever raise the girl in a lie? That’s not a normal life at all. It contrasts so much with Blitz and Loona, where Loona thinks that because she was 17, almost 18, she doesn’t need a dad like him. But he insists that she does need someone to help and protect her. Damn. I gotta put that one out there.

The two birdshits should have separated in a low-key, private manner as many celebrity or royal couples do, without the public ever knowing. There was no reason to do things this way.

AND YEAH ACTUALLY—-he says “do you just let anyone waltz into your office and take priceless artefacts, why would she do this? Where would she go?” The order of priorities is interesting

1: the artefact

2: how could she hurt me like this

3: where could she be

Is last.

#stolas critical #the hunchback of notre dame

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calx-bdo · 11 months

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KAZUJA??? AND SPIDERMAN??? 2HAT IF

I AM NOT A TRAINED MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL. ALL METHODS FOR TREATMENT ARE PURELY FICTIONAL, AFTER BRIEF RESEARCH. DO NOT FOLLOW FOR TREATED WOUNDS IRL. SEEK PROFESSIONAL HELP FOR TREATING OPEN WOUNDS AND GASHES.

Something knocks on your window. It was late at night, past 12 am, perhaps even 1 am. What on earth could be outside your window at such an unholy hour?

Slowly, you grasped the wooden bat underneath your bed (in case, can't tell what could happen in New York), and slowly opened the curtain, hand tightly wrapped around the window handle. Slowly, you pushed the window open, the wooden bat ready to be aimed at the intruder's face.

You swung your bat- Hey, where'd it go? And what's this sticky web on your hand?! You gazed in fright at your intruder, expecting some punk with a black ski mask or something, with those dragon tattoos and all that. You know, typical Underground Gang stuff.

"Kazuha? What..what are you doing here? OH MY GOD ARE YOU BLEEDING?" You quickly gasped in horror as a wave of panic swept over you. Kazuha had a huge gash running down his chest, though not deep, but still enough to make you lose your absolute mind. "Get in, I'll bandage you up!" Thank god you were a trained medical professional. You haven't even realised the Spider-Man mask half pulled up, letting some of his front hair out.

Kazuha plopped down on your bed, letting out a wince.

"Sorry, this might hurt a bit."

You slowly cleaned the wound with clean water from your tap, truly hoping that the government-assured "drinking quality tap water" wasn't a fraud. Then, gently, using a clean, dry towel, you pressed it to the gash, absorbing the moisture from the wound.

Next, you tightly wrapped the bandage around his gash, trying your best to not stare at his muscles and abs, but god. It was so..stunning? It's almost feminine in a way, with a tiny waist and broad shoulders. His collarbone is so defined, and his skin with cuts here and there, healed scars, oh my goodness, he was beautiful.

"Haha, are you trying to bandage me up or trying to get a good look at me?" Kazuha's soft voice teased. You could feel the heat rise to your face, eyes trying to look everywhere but his softly smirking face, his eyes gazing at you with a smidge of mischief in them.

You quickly finished bandaging him out of embarrassment and plopped down next to him. "L-let's talk about the bigger problem. You're Spider-Man?"

Now it was Kazuha's turn to blush. He looked down, face tinted a light pink, laughing nervously.

"Yeah..And the reason why I came to you was because I didn't really...have anyone else to go to? Sure, Aunt Beidou and Aunty Ningguang are trustworthy, but I'm not really keen on letting them in on my vigilante double-life. You know how Aunt Beidou is when she's tipsy. I guess I only ever really trusted you, Y/N. With this secret. With my other life."

A beat of silence turns into two. A small smile crept up on your lips, realisation dawning on you that Kazuha only ever trusted you with this. You're the one that holds his heart in your hands. Kazuha's wrapped around your pinky. Kazuha entrusts this huge secret that could potentially end both your lives and many others, to you. He trusts you more than anyone. He loves you more than anyone.

"Thanks, zuzu. Let's get you cleaned up, shall we? The dirt on your face is really ticking me off. And it's on my bed now too..I definitely need to change bedsheets later. But for now, let's focus on you. I love you, Kazuha, and nobody can change that."

You press a small kiss to his forehead. 'A worthy price for saving New York everyday, ' Kazuha thinks.

(sykyu008 on twt)

#genshin x reader #yingyue'snovels #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #anime #fluff #genshin kaedahara kazuha #kazuha x gender neutral reader #kazuha fluff #kazuha x reader #kazuha #genshin impact fanfic #kazuha fanfic #kazuha x you

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detroit-grand-prix · 23 days

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letzte rose - prologue

Toto Wolff x Susie Wolff Royal/Historical AU

Summary: The year is 1849 and one of Europe's Great Powers, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, is on the cusp of burgeoning unrest. Parliament is trying to seize more authority while the provinces are fighting for more autonomy. An increasingly conservative chancellor seems to hold all of the power these days, as Emperor Christian I has become practically a recluse in recent years. But, a night at the opera has the potential to change everything.

Notes: I've been toying with the idea of some sort of Susie/Toto historicial AU for a while, but @totowlff approached me about this royalty AU and it's been impossible to get my mind off if it. She wrote most of this chapter (I edited it pretty heavily) and the chapter outline we have so far, and I'm really excited to see how it develops. Thank goodness for her pretty much encyclopedic knowledge of old European monarchies! I hope you like it, too. We are striving to make it as historically accurate as it can be, minus the fact that obvious major "characters" have been replaced.

There are certain moments when a person knows that their life will never be the same.

For Toto, it was a warm night in May of 1812, when he was just 15 years old.

He didn't remember anything exceptional about that night before he was woken up in the middle of a dream he was having.

A little confused, it took him a few seconds for his sleep-filled eyes to focus on the face of Karl, his Kammerdiener. Holding a small candelabra, his expression hid something that the young archduke could not puzzle out as he rubbed his eyes.

— What…

— I beg your pardon, sir, but your mother requested His Imperial Highness’ presence in her chambers.

— But why? — he asked, as he pulled his covers back and sat up in bed.

— Unfortunately, I don’t know, Your Highness — Karl replied, placing the candle on the bedside table — I’m just following the orders I received.

After helping him to his feet into a robe, Toto’s valet walked him through the halls of the Hofburg. Toto wondered what could be so important that she would get him out of bed in the middle of the night and walk halfway across the palace to Amalienburg, where the apartments of Archduchess Johanna of Austria were located. However, as he approached his mother's quarters, he noticed there was an awful lot of staff milling about, especially for the middle of the night. “Something is definitely wrong”, Toto thought, as his mother’s valet opened the door for him to be announced.

From then on, everything became a blur. The slow steps towards the anteroom. The sight of his mother sitting in one of the armchairs, her wet eyes indicating that she had been crying. Her deep breath before saying the words that changed his life forever.

— Long live the Emperor — Johanna said, before bowing deeply in front of him.

Toto left his mother's room a few minutes later, in complete silence. Accompanied by Karl, he headed back to his own quarters feeling completely numb.

That night, it wasn't just his grandfather, the old Emperor Rudolf VI, who had died. In a way Toto had, too. Toto, the boy who loved numbers, who protected his family with all his might and who liked to race horses was gone too, along with the boy who thought his destiny would have had the courtesy to wait a few years.

From the moment his grandfather’s death was pronounced, there was only His Imperial and Royal Apostolic Majesty, Christian The First, By The Grace of God.

Distrust was his constant companion, especially in the early days of his reign. Whispers about how he was too young and inexperienced for the role filled the palace halls with uncertainty. In the opinion of many, including politicians and the court, Toto should entrust matters of governance to the hands of those who understood the empire’s politics and go back to playing with his horses.

However, it was not in his nature to leave his responsibilities to others, especially to men who only thought about themselves and their own legacies. Toto wanted to govern for his people, for the people who looked to him and his family as a model to follow. Over the next nine years, he took over the reins of his own country, assembling a cabinet capable of forging a new Europe. Toto would always remember the relief on his mother's face when she spoke about Napoleon Bonaparte’s death in exile, definitively ending his reign.

— Your aunt will be immensely pleased to know that, finally, the devil is in Hell like he deserves to be, and he won’t be coming back this time — Johanna said with a wide smile on her face, during Toto's daily visit to her apartments.

— I don't know if that's the most appropriate way to speak of the dead, especially considering that he was, in a way, part of our family — he observed, pursing his lips. In order to reestablish peace between Austria and France, Toto's grandfather arranged for his other daughter, Elisabeth, to marry Napoleon. The union produced a single son, named Alexander, who became the presumptive heir to his father's ambitions and a major headache for the great powers. However, his proximity with his maternal family was the allegation that Chancellor Metternich said in the meeting with the other chancellors to convince them that Toto’s cousin was not a political threat to Europe.

— Alexander will always be a problem, especially considering that you still haven't resolved the issue of your marriage — his mother replied, brushing a dark curl away from her face.

— I just turned 24, mama…

— When I was your age, I was already married and had both you and your sister — she replied, as Toto shook his head — And there's no point in making that face, you know you have a duty to this country.

— Yes, my duty is to govern it. That is what I am primarily focused on.

— And what good is governing if you don't provide security for your subjects, my son? Nothing gives a nation’s people more security than knowing they don’t have to worry about any bloody succession crises. You don’t want what happened in Britain to happen to us, do you? Even your grandfather couldn’t feel at ease until you were born...

— Considering that Lili already has a son, I’m not overly concerned about who my successor will be — Toto said, with a small smile. This made his mother jump from her seat, giving her son a venomous glare.

— I think this should worry you even more, since your sister is younger than you and has already done more for the future of this family’s dynasty. Something about that statement annoyed Toto deeply. Slowly standing up, he turned away from his mother and walked towards the window, taking a deep breath. He couldn't be fragile, not now, not in front of her.

— If the matter concerns you so much, mama, I give you leave to resolve it — he said. His voice was solemn, but indicated clearly that he was done discussing it.

It took a few years to find a suitable match, but in 1825, at age 28, Toto was standing in the foyer of The Hofburg, greeting his new wife for the first time as she arrived from Munich. She was a Bavarian princess from the house of Wittelsbach named Stephanie. The marriage was arranged at the behest of Johanna and performed per procura before she and Toto had even met. They had exchanged a few letters, and Toto had seen her portrait, but this was the first time they were meeting.

With a shy smile and her blonde hair hidden under her wide-brimmed bonnet, she was clearly scared by it all, especially given how tightly he was gripping his hand.

— Nervous? — he asked her quietly.

— A little — Stephanie replied, nodding to some courtiers that were lined up to see her arrival in the palace for the first time — Let's just say I wasn't expecting...

— All these people?

— No, I'm talking about, well… Your Majesty.

— Was the portrait I sent not true to life? I told the painter not to make my nose so much smaller than it is, but they never listen to me — Toto said, as the air around them filled with quiet chatter and the clinking of military medals as highly decorated courtiers bowed in respect as the imperial couple walked by.

— Actually… I’d say that you are much more handsome than they made you look in your portrait — the princess said sweetly, her cheeks flushed.

It was with that sweetness that Stephanie entered Toto's life and heart. He didn't know how to feel about her at first. She was beautiful, certainly, and kind, but was Toto in love with her? Hardly. Love wasn't the purpose of their marriage; people like Toto didn't get the privilege of marrying for love.

As time went on, though, Stephanie proved to be a measured and gentle sort, who had no trouble taking on her role as the Empress of Austria and winning over the hearts of the courtiers and public, and eventually, she won Toto's heart as well. It took a few years for their family to grow, but the entire country celebrated with the arrival of the long-awaited heir, a boy named Benedict. Two years later, a little girl followed, and they named her Rosa, contrary to Johanna’s wishes, who had hoped for the girl to have her name.

For years, The Hofburg was a place full of light and joy, and Toto ruled a thriving empire from within it. With his family together, he was sure that nothing could shake him, not even the biggest challenge.

Until one bitter February day in 1836, Stephanie whispered his name as she closed her eyes for the final time.

All of the light and joy that filled the palace was buried with her in the Imperial Crypt.

#f1 fanfic #f1 au #f1 historicial au #f1 royalty au #series: lezte rose #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x susie wolff

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