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incogxmari · 2 months

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Dichotomy, Part 1

Dichotomy;

noun, plural di·chot·o·mies.:

• something with seemingly contradictory qualities.

Pairing: Ghost x F!reader

Series summary:

Unbeknownst to you, one night you unintentionally catch the eye of Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley. What first starts out as an idle interest quickly devolves into a dark obsession.

Warnings: brief violence (nothing major or graphic, not directed at reader), some sleazy characters with unsavory intentions.

—

It started out with something that seemed so inconsequential at the time.

He'd been at a pub, one of his local stomping grounds when he was on leave. Simon hadn’t even really taken notice of you at first, not even a blip on his radar. You were a wallflower, obviously uncomfortable to be there and just trying to make yourself disappear. You had a girlfriend with you, loud, bubbly, outgoing, obviously the one to convince you to tag along.

He’d taken one look at the both of you, idly noted you both were pretty little things, before shifting his gaze elsewhere and continuing to sip his beer.

As the night progressed he would every so often find his gaze shifting back to the two of you, noting how while you barely touched your first drink, your friend was well on her way to getting sloshed. It was apparent how you tried to advise your friend to slow down, to take it easy, but it did little good. It wasn’t long before others started to take notice of you both as well, thinking they might land an easy lay.

More than one bloke sauntered up to your table, all smarmy and sleazy. You would shrink under the attention, would politely and quietly rebuff the advances. Your friend was less tactful, telling them to get lost, sod off, neither of you were looking for additional company, thank you very much. It led to some profanities being tossed your way (you would flinch, your friend would sneer), but little else came of it as the pursuers moved along to look for easier prey.

It was about as banal and uninteresting as it could be.

But then you surprised Simon.

You finally succeeded in cutting your friend off and convincing her it was time to head home. She was well past drunk and snickered as you came over to help support her weight after paying the tab. It was slow progress as you both made your way to the door, your friend stumbling along in her heels and giggling up a storm. Movement caught Simon's eye and he immediately locked onto another male that was coming to intercept you both on your way to the exit. To anyone not looking for it, they would miss the nasty gleam in his eyes in favor of the charming smile on his face.

Simon recognized that look, knew it meant nothing good for either of you, and considered whether or not it was worth the trouble to get involved. With a long suffering sigh and a grumble under his breath about how he must be going soft, he stood from his table and started to make his way over in case things turned sour.

He watched as the man stepped in front of you both, probably offering his help. Simon could only see the profile of your face as you turned him down, moving to step around him when he intercepted you both again, this time more insistent and smile less friendly.

Simon saw how this man started to reach out for your friend and suddenly it was like a switch flipped in you.

Your eyes narrowed with a fury reserved for mothers protecting their young, lips pulled back in a snarl. All traces of your once meek posture vanished in an instant, spine straightening as you tugged your friend out of reach, shifting to put yourself between the two.

Something in Simon perked up and took notice at the shift.

"Don’t fucking touch her!"

You barked the order at him with all of the force of a seasoned drill sergeant, and you looked ready to tear out the man’s throat with your teeth if he didn’t heed your demand. Interest sparked in Simon's chest, thick and feverish and dark.

Naturally your exclamation drew the attention of several patrons and they turned to look at source of the disturbance, much of the idle background chatter in the pub going quiet. The added attention caused the man to flush, eyes darkening in a glare as he took a step back, hands up and palms out.

Simon saw through the pathetic attempt to appear non-threatening in an instant. He recognized the look of a predator ready to bide their time when he saw one. (As his targets could attest moments before they became a cooling corpse on the ground, Ghost was a beast that excelled in the delayed gratification of a hunt.)

"Christ, fine, no need to fuckin' scream."

Simon watched as you continued to stare the man down as he stepped to the side to let you both pass. Once he was out of the way, you marched your way to the exit while still being mindful of your friend's unsteady gait. Once you passed through the doorway the other patrons returned to their festivities, interruption forgotten. They paid no mind to how the man slowly made his way to the back door you both had just left through, slinking along unnoticed.

But they also failed to notice the wraith that shadowed the would-be predator out into the alleyway.

Ghost caught sight of you two farther down the alley, making your way towards the parking lot, unaware of the male advancing on you both. It took no effort for Ghost to catch up to the man, to slide up behind him and slip one thick arm around his throat in a swift sleeper hold. The man couldn’t even yelp with the force constricting around his throat, the only sound escaping being a hoarse puff of air. Neither of you two took notice, unable to hear the noise over the music playing from at the patio at the front of the pub.

It was almost cute how the man tried to fight his grip, the desperate clawing at his arms growing weaker as the seconds ticked by. Just as the man started to go limp, Ghost released the hold and shifted his grip to slam his victim face fist into the side of the building with a sickening crack. He watched apathetically as the man crumpled to the ground, blood starting to pool onto the concrete from his broken nose. Considering the force of the blow, the man would be lucky if a broken nose and a shattered sinus cavity was all the trauma he suffered.

Once Ghost was certain he wouldn’t be getting back up, he swiftly rummaged through the man's pockets, knowing that while he was in the blind spot of the surveillance cameras, there was no telling when someone would come through the door next. He quickly found the man's wallet, phone, and keys. He left the keys but took all of the cash within the wallet before tossing it on the ground next to the body. Then, upon spotting the watch on the man's wrist, knelt down and pocketed that as well. Satisfied with his handiwork of the staged mugging, Ghost turned and made his way back into the building, with everyone inside none the wiser.

Settling down back at his table, Simon found his thoughts drifting back to you. What had at first started as passing curiosity then a reluctant decision to get involved had quickly evolved into a personal investment on Simon's part. The dichotomy of you was compelling. He knew that the quiet, soft spoken behavior you exhibited earlier wasn’t a ruse, that much was obvious. But that righteous, protective animosity was also just as genuine.

A faint, barely there smile graced Simon's lips. He found himself keen to solve this intriguing new puzzle you posed.

Unfortunately for you.

———

©incogxmari 2024. Please don’t steal, repost, copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works without my permission. I do NOT allow or condone my writing to be used in/for AI under any circumstances.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #mari writes

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leon-swedfinqs · 4 months

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Every Action, Crashing Down

Aziraphale had been twisting himself into a panic as he desperately tries to find the right time to break the news to his partner. This was for his safety, this was for the best, wasn’t it?

Crowley has been trying, again and again, to find the right moment, the right words to finally expose what the two of them have been too afraid to admit. Finally, he’s given that chance.

A Good Omens D&D Au take on the final 15 minutes of 2x06. A much happier ending, thankfully.

Read Under The Cut

Aziraphale was at his wits end, it felt like. Like he hasn’t had a chance to properly breathe, a chance to slow down. His chest was heavy with the burden of guilt.

The image of Crowley kneeling on the ground, his skin burned and clothes charred as the recently freed celestial energy seemed to swirl around him and taunt him in mockery. The colorful swirls made his tears look like gold, as he shook and held the recently transformed scale-covered claw against his chest. Adam Young was a few feet away, fallen into a pile made up of his friends, also frozen in fear as they stared at the stars and fire that prevented anyone from getting too close. Aziraphale wasn’t even physically there, instead standing alongside the illusionist’s spirit as he was physically trapped in the town square by a witch finder and the townspeople holding him, bound in rope that ate at his wrists and ankles.

Crowley was freed, in the end. He had approached in his ethereal form and protected him from the light, though Aziraphale struggled to remember how. But even once it seemed like his partner was safe, the two were kept at a distance as Aziraphale was questioned for his affiliation and Crowley was brought back to the Young residence to heal with the boy.

All the cleric could think of was how he was the reason Crowley was inadvertently hurt by him. By his insistence, his stubbornness, his inability to lie and keep a secret. Pulled his partner directly into the mouth of the beast that was his biggest nightmare. One thing led to another, of course, as those thoughts brought on more memories of their previous travels. Again and again and again, it seemed that Aziraphale’s decisions kept hurting him, putting them both in danger, making them lose tremendous amounts of money.

Aziraphale understood that this was flawed thinking. He understood that not everything his mind and memory was telling him was true. His was stuck in his head, he was overthinking it surely.

“If you were putting Crowley at risk, then he would’ve left on his own a long time ago.”

But could that really be true? What if he simply stayed out of pity for the naive and silly cleric with little magic skills and a peculiar religious connection?

These thoughts continued to plague Aziraphale for weeks on end, long after Crowley had healed and was more than ready to go on more quests together. It seemed that the tiefling was eager, in fact, despite what his aloof manner makes it seem like. At every turn he was pulling Aziraphale to do something new, urging towards a more settled down sort of life in their base between missions. It was like a dance the two would perform.

Aziraphale would start and lead with his guilt and concern over Crowley, desperately wanting nothing more than to protect him and offer him security. Keep him from the prying eyes from the townsfolk, to keep him concealed by whatever was searching for him, by trying his best to keep his distance.

Crowley would answer and guide with a rebuttal of sorts. He would derail Aziraphale’s subtle attempts to try to leave or push him away by accepting long term-high reward quests, or making an elaborate dinner to share together by the fire. In the heat of battle Crowley would jump to protect, to assist, even to heal with potions. He was more open, more willing, he kept pulling.

Their actions told opposite stories, their actions told opposite pleas.

“I want to keep you safe. And safe is away from me.”

“I want to keep you close. I want you to be close. You complete me.”

But these words were never once spoken to the other. They just kept dancing.

However, one of the two was the better reader.

The cleric was acting weird, Crowley couldn’t help but wonder on a near daily basis.

During those weeks he spent cooped up in an estate house, going on missions alone to provide money for them to sustain themselves, Crowley kept going back and forth on if he wanted to stay once this was all over. Their arrangement was temporary — they stuck together because it was convenient, because it was easy. They were lacking integral skills in order to survive and thrive as adventurers, they needed the help in order to build up their abilities and become more capable. The more solo missions he takes, the more Crowley realized that he’s more than capable of being on his own. His aim is consistently accurate, he has the knowledge to mix his own healing potions, his stealth skills have vastly improved — why should he even bother staying with someone else? Sticking with another body fundamentally makes it harder for him to hide as he has no choice but to remain low for the rest of his life. Due to this partnership, his name is plastered on job ads, and he’s the regular at many businesses back in their home base village. He’s exposed, open, and vulnerable. Having someone else is just plain cumbersome.

The security and care he felt while he was shielded by Aziraphale’s spirit when it felt like he was about to nearly lose everything he worked so hard for was something Crowley never experienced before. As he was surrounded by Aziraphale’s presence, the light blocked by bright wings and the soft yellow glow of the halo, Crowley finally understood why he subconsciously stuck around for so long.

The dance, their arrangement.

His own actions to keep the music going.

It was an act of love.

For weeks, now that he has a clear head, Crowley has been plotting a way to expose their dance and ask to make it their reality. This comfort, this sense of home, this love, was something he didn’t want to let go.

Crowley had an idea in his head on how this was going to play out.

He was going to make sure to choose a day where it was clear that Aziraphale was in a good mood. A day where he felt more relaxed and comfortable, openly smiling and accepting to small physical touches, willing to go out on brief trips, simply just exist without a guilty expression on his face.

Then he was going to whisk the two of them away for a nice brunch out in town at their favorite bakery.

As his partner would indulge in his favorite pastries, Crowley would (gently) expose their dance and confess how he feels. Of course, the Angel would brightly smile and return the sentiment, and they get to stay together.

The plan was perfect, it was fool proof.

It took a while for him to build up the nerve to even consider choosing a day — it seemed that Aziraphale was all over the place, acting oddly distant and dismissive. It seemed as if he was worried over Crowley, at least from his perspective. He would occasionally catch a few side glances every now and then.

Finally, finally it seemed like he was able to catch the perfect moment.

Aziraphale was trying to plan to break the news to Crowley — he wanted to protect him, to keep him safe, to keep him out of the public eye to keep him hidden. He was practically a walking beacon with his halos and sword, two items that screamed his affiliation. He can’t have the tiefling follow behind him all of the time if all he did was attract attention.

As much as it broke his heart, they had to go their separate ways. While he longed for them to continue traveling together, for them to be together at a deeper level, this was the more logical step for their long-term survival.

He had a simple plan to lay it easy for the rogue.

First, he had to catch him on a good day. One where Crowley was relaxed and comfortable, least likely to explode into a bad mood.

Then, he would make sure that Crowley was sitting down — preferably with a cup of coffee or even whisky to calm the nerves.

Finally, he would admit his thoughts and propose the idea that they should travel alone from now on. Hopefully, Crowley would understand where he was coming from and easily agree.

It was simple. It was perfect.

Now he just had to calm his nerves and go for it.

Later that week, as the two stood together in the kitchen to share their morning tea and toast, both of them clocked how at ease the other seemed. Aziraphale hummed as he stirred the sugar and honey into his mug, and Crowley would quietly sway as he stood besides his chair.

The cleric wasn’t running away.

The rogue wasn’t antsy.

They’ve accepted their plans and were ready to move forward.

After cleaning up the dishes, Crowley quietly slipped out of their small base to head out into town to check on the bakery to double check that it was going to be serving breakfast later that day (and possibly to ask one of the employees to save a few pastries for when they arrive as they do tend to sell out).

“Ah, Mr. Crowley! Good morning to you,” the employee, a lovely half-elf he had come to know as Nina, hummed. “The usual I suppose?”

“Add in a dash of cream with it, please — I need to keep my nerves,” Crowley said as he leaned against the counter.

“Your nerves?” Nina asked with a quirk of her eyebrow. “Is something going on?”

Crowley had practically become a regular at this bakery, with how often Aziraphale would send him there to pick up bread or quick meals for them to share. While he would wait for one of the bakers to gather his order, he would stand up front and get a large cup of espresso and chat with the manager. It was the main way he learned about village gossip — being one of the main baristas, Nina was told all sorts of secrets from customers who would come in and out of the shop all the time. From the conflict in the square over the job board, to the rumors about crushes between shop owners, she has heard everything. Crowley would find himself spilling to her every now and then, with the comfort knowing that his secrets were safe behind her lock and key.

“You know, the, uh…the thing,” Crowley sputtered.

“The…thing?” Nina echoed.

Crowley quickly nodded. “The thing. I’m planning to say the thing. I, nnn, fuckin…I’ve been waiting for the time to say ‘the thing’, and it finally looks like he isn’t two seconds from running to the hills or crumble under some strange pressure I can’t identify. It’s like a reset button was pressed! I need to say it now, or I’m going to clam up, and we’re going to keep going in circles and things are going to keep becoming more and more weird and awkward, and I don’t think I’ll be able to handle that, and-“

“You need to get that gob under control,” Nina said with a laugh while placing a ceramic mug in front of the man. “In order for you to say ‘the thing’, you’re gonna have to save your words for it.”

Crowley took a quick swig of his espresso before heavily sighing. He solemnly stared down at the deep brown liquid.

“We’ve been traveling and working for, what…25ish years? Met when we were both young and stupid, kept moving between towns in search for quests, finally settled down at a home base and have been working ever since.”

“That’s what you’ve told me,” Nina hummed. “You basically made a business front for yourselves and have become infamous faces around here. Like that book hoard we can see through the upstairs window.”

“The ‘library’,” Crowley corrected. “It’s Aziraphale’s favorite loot to collect. I don’t even want to think about what could be on the covers on some of those books or hidden between the pages,” he grimaced. “Our storage room became the library because he just kept getting more books whenever we went out.”

Crowley glanced out the storefront window to eye up his ‘home’. The bottom floor was their “shop” of sorts were people could come in and hire them for the day, or search through the loot they were offering to sell in case they needed any strange objects. Crowley would spend hours sifting through everything to choose stuff to put up front. He would say to Aziraphale that he was doing this to clear up more space in their living quarters, when in reality he enjoyed making arrangements of objects to pair together in a sort of scheme to sell as much as humanly possible. It was like a fun game to him. Behind and above the main store front was where they lived. The place came with a couple of extra bedrooms, but only one was used at a time (they never seemed to sleep at the same time, and when they would sleep both had an affinity for the bed on the top floor, with a window that faced the sunrise). There were readings rooms, a common area, kitchen, everything they needed. It was oddly a very domestic arrangement, one that they never thought they’d find themselves in. Little details filled the corners of this area — plants Crowley would bring back littered every corner and empty space, a large portion of one of the spare rooms was taken up by a large tank that held a snake, and what was called the “office” was littered in papers covered in Aziraphale’s frilly handwriting.

“We have a life here,” Crowley lamented. “A comfortable one. A safe one. Right now, we are living together separately. I…I just…I want this to be us living together. Completely.”

He sighed and glanced down at his cup as he gently swirled it around in circles. He watched as the cream mixed a bit more with the coffee, making the liquid a bit more lighter in color.

“If he didn’t like this arrangement, he seems to be the type that would’ve left a long time ago,” Nina said. “What’s the worst he could do if you asked?”

“Well, he could stab me with a blade, for one. Or blast me with magic. Or stab me with a flaming blade instead, that’s more likely,” Crowley quickly responded. “We’ve never had this conversation before, not even as a campfire sort of chat, so I don’t have a single clue about how he feels about anything romantic, let alone from someone who is probably the same gender, I mean he comes from a very strict religious background and I’m sure you’re aware about what kind of stuff those folks are really weird about, and-“

“Anthony,” Nina quickly butted in to make him stop. “I bet you that Mr. Aziraphale is not like that, I’m sure that he’s completely far from that. I have seen the way that he looks at you, how he talks to you. I see it loud and clear. You guys, you just…”

She sighed and shook her head. As she gently placed a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, she made direct eye contact with him.

“You two don’t talk about the important things. The really really important things. You talk around the important things and hope that the other person picks up on what they’re trying to say. I’ve seen it while you have your lunches, I’ve heard you complain about it nearly a million times now! You guys need to talk, you need to do ‘the thing’ and say something!”

~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale was wearing a path into the floorboards of the front room. Crowley had suddenly ran off and his thoughts immediately began to spin and scream.

“You’re running out of time, he seemed excited about something, you’re both becoming way too comfortable with this! You are blatantly putting him in danger for purely selfish reasons, you can’t let this go on any longer!”

His thoughts kept berating him with harsh words, kept pushing him with memories of recent events that filled him with fear that even he hasn’t admitted to Crowley about yet.

The cleric had gone out a couple of weeks ago on his own to a market in a nearby town. He did this to give himself some space, he did this to create some temporary distance between him and his partner, he did this…he did this because the distillery that made Crowley’s favorite bourbon finally restocked and he had promised that he would get him some that weekend to celebrate their recent mission. The particular bourbon was the one that Aziraphale had given to him on what he had determined was the tieflings’s birthday ages ago, and was insistent that he keep it despite the fact that he got the date wrong by a couple of months. That drink, both for the memories and the taste, had easily become his favorite and the rogue tried to keep at least one bottle in the building if possible.

While he was out in the market, both buying the bottle and grabbing some supplies he normally can’t find at home, Aziraphale was struck by a horrifying and familiar sight. Across the crowds of villages and travelers was the face of one of his Brothers, the halos shining in that distinct light-purple hue that identified the particular brother. He was standing and talking with someone who was unfamiliar to the cleric, a short dark elf with scruffy black hair, and an official looking uniform with a shining medallion on the lapel. Aziraphale was quick to leave once he willed himself to move again, his heart pounding in his ears as he prayed that the two did not see him as he fled.

They were looking for him, that much was for certain. It wasn’t long before they would find him and whisk him away, putting Crowley and the rest of the village in danger in the process.

Aziraphale stopped, catching his breath as he started to make himself pant in his panic. Taking a quick survey of the area outside of the windows, the cleric noted that his partner was still away to gods knows where. With the allotted time, Aziraphale quickly got down on his knees and clasped his hands in prayer. He bowed his head, halos nearly slipping over his eyes, blinding him in their light, as he concentrated.

“Dear Ecliel, forgive me for my insolence and greed as I have held onto my time for far too long. I admit to this hubris,” he started in a hushed breath. “I have clung to him, I have held him down and nearly dragged him into my own pit of despair and sins because I could not let go. I beg of thee, spare him from my mistakes, bring guidance to help free him from his own chains and bring him a bright and prosperous life away from the demons of the past. Be the guiding star I selfishly tried to be instead. Amen.”

His words echoed into the ether, their message and magic spreading into the air in search for their receiver. Aziraphale sat frozen, letting his confession sink into his soul, his words repeating in his mind lest he forget.

It’s been so long since he has prayed. He hopes that She will finally listen to him and spare him with Her grace.

A creak on the front porch outside of their door made Aziraphale shoot up in a panic and quickly dust off his tunic in order to look presentable.

Bag sitting on the front desk filled with potions and his notebook of spells?

Check.

Sword held in its sheath strapped to his side by a belt?

Check.

Pockets filled with extra cash that he has saved on the side in case of emergencies?

Check.

There was no going back now. This was the next step. This was the necessary step. No more dancing around the conversation.

He had to tell the truth.

After fighting with the door, Crowley stumbled into the main room, bearing a smile on his face and holding a sack of pastries under his arms. As he struggled with his keys to ensure that the door was properly locked, Aziraphale meekly entered the room and stood by the doorway near the front desk, ringing his hands together to try to calm his nerves. As Crowley turned, the two made quick eye contact. The tiefling brightened, Aziraphale winced in fear, as the two stepped towards each other.

“Ah, perfect timing! I stopped by the bakery and talked to Nina, she said that they’ll be cooking brunch today-“

“-Ah, Crowley, I don’t mean to interrupt but there is something that I must-“

“-and I thought, ‘oh perfect! We have completed a bunch of successful missions recently and haven’t had time for a sit down meal’, so I got some-“

“-tell you and I really think we should sit down and have an honest conversation because this won’t be easy for me to say, so just, please-“

“-of your favorites and figured we could go out because there’s been something on my mind and I really think that-“

“-we need to talk.” “-we need to talk.”

As the two kept talking at each other, they kept getting physically closer and closer together. The two owlishly blinked at each other in disbelief as their rants synced up at the same line.

“O-oh, oh goodness, oh dear,” Aziraphale fussed as he started to internally panic. “W-what was it you were trying to say my dear?”

“Ah, um…” Crowley rubbed the paper of the pastry bag between his fingers before ultimately decided to place it down on the counter that ended up beside them. He wrung his hands together and gestured vaguely at the cleric. “You should go first.”

“Crowley, ah-“ Aziraphale started to pick at the skin around his finger nails in an attempt to calm himself. “No, really, it’s okay, f-forget it.”

Crowley raised his eyebrow in suspicion as he felt Aziraphale’s anxiety hit him in waves. He looked flighty again, like he has been for the past week or so. There goes that plan entirely, at least for now. He waved dismissively and let himself physically relax as he already accepted the failure. “No, really, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”

Aziraphale immediately deflated at the question. Of course he was able to pick up on his panic, it was probably crystal clear on his face. He took a brief moment to take a deep breath and compose himself as he faced the tiefling.

“I-I, uh…goodness…this isn’t really the right time to bring this up, but honestly there hasn’t and probably will never, uh, be a um…there will never be a good time for this,” Aziraphale rambled. “I have a proposition. An arrangement, I suppose it would be better phrased as.”

Aziraphale gulped as he watched the tiefling narrow his eyes in suspicion and glare at him, an eyebrow raising to prompt him to continue. He just had to keep pushing and say the line. This was for him, for his safety, for his life.

“I…” Aziraphale pointedly made an effort to look away from Crowley’s face. “I believe our time working together, our arrangement, has run its course. I-it’s time for us to travel and work on our own. F…far away from each other. Protect and help more people by spreading out to reach others out there. On…o-on our own. For the foreseeable future.”

Crowley took in a sharp breath through his nose as he processed the clerics words. The other man was biting his lip as he forced himself to put on a pained smile to try and soften the blow of the true meaning behind what he had said.

Oh. Just his fucking luck. Absolutely brilliant.

Crowley growled in annoyance as he grabbed his glasses and tore them off his face, gripping them tightly between his claws. He swiftly turned away from the human, grimacing in annoyance as he tried to ignore his heart breaking into a thousand piece.

Aziraphale blinked in surprise. He stepped forward, and in an attempt to gain control over the situation, started to speak without thinking.

“M-my dear, please, this is for both of our benefits, for our safety, for your safety, you have to understand-“

“Oh I understand,” Crowley spat. He swiftly turned and made direct eye contact with the other man, his eyes wet with brewing tears. “I understand completely.”

Aziraphale could feel the fire emanating off of the rogue as he stared into his golden eyes, the irises pin-sharp slits that bore into his soul. The air was thick and dense, the tension creating static that kept pricking at both of their skin.

After what felt like minutes of silence as they stared, it seemed the tiefling finally broke as he fell back and physically relaxed, a look of defeat forming on his face.

“Fuck, okay, if I don’t say this now then I will probably never get the opportunity again. So I might as well say it while I have you right here in front of me.”

“Crowley-“

Aziraphale was quickly shut up by the sharp and deadly look the rogue gave him the moment he dared try to speak.

Crowley took a deep breath. This wasn’t the circumstance that he wanted. This wasn’t what he planned. In fact this was far beyond that. But there’s no going back now.

“We’ve been working together for a long time, you and me. A couple of decades now, it seems, though honestly it feels more like thousands and thousands of years. It’s just been us, the two of us, a team, a group, a party. We’ve fought and battled and won and lost, and we’ve settled down in this dinky little shop in this dinky little town. And we’ve been here. Together. Comfortable and settled into our roles separately. And, a-and I would like to spend-mmm…“

Crowley shuttered as he sniffed and looked away. He needed to compose himself. Keep himself together.

“A-and I would like to spend this life together. Comfortably together. We’re a package deal, the two of us. Throw away the past, f-focus on the present. Together.”

Crowley turned and made eye contact with the cleric again as a single tear escaped, sliding down his cheek and getting caught in his scales.

Aziraphale couldn’t breathe as he blankly stared at his partner in disbelief. All this time…all this time he ran away, afraid that his feelings were null, a fantasy, a farce. But now…it was too late.

The silence bore into Crowley’s soul. Aziraphale was staring at him, with pure horror on his face.

“R-right,” Crowley huffed out in a laugh as he shook open his glasses and placed them back on his face. “You don’t need to tell me. I’ll go pack and get out of here.”

He kept his expression neutral as he slipped by the cleric to head up the stairs to their living quarters. Aziraphale had to will himself to move and turn towards him.

“C-crowley, wait!” he desperately called as he started to pant.

It was becoming difficult to breathe. The air was thick and stale, clogging his lungs like he was underwater. What did he do, what did he do, what did he do??

Crowley paused and turned slightly, his expression softened just a smidge as he gazed down at the frantic human standing before him.

“Don’t bother,” he said calmly as he started to continue walking towards the stairs again. “I don’t need your forgiveness.”

“I-I need you!” Aziraphale blurted before he could even think, his thoughts turning a million miles per hour. “Forgive me!”

Crowley paused as he grabbed the handrail, the weight of the cleric’s words falling upon his shoulders.

The desperation. The fear. The care and love and protectiveness over him. The secrets untold just waiting to burst and fall open. It was all so heavy and burdensome.

“You idiot…” Crowley huffed out in a laugh. “Oh you absolute idiot.”

Aziraphale started to shake as he tried to watch his partner, his vision swimming and twisting. What has he done, what has he done, he’s ruined this, he’s ruined everything, he’s ruined it all again and-

The cleric barely processed in his storm of thoughts that the rogue had turned and quickly marched towards him, his expression both broken yet determined and confident.

Crowley gathered his nerves and decided to take initiative as he stepped away from the stairs and swiftly turned, using the burst of confidence he had to turn back and face him.

One step. Two steps.

Claws snagged at the scraggly white fabric and pulled the body forward, causing it to emit a shocked yelp in surprise.

Grabbing the cleric by the neckline of his shirt, his knuckles white and holes tearing in the fabric, Crowley pulled Aziraphale towards him. In the center, the two collided in a kiss like they were two stars smashing into each other, exploding into brilliant light and dust and fire.

The two clung to each other like magnets, refusing to pull apart in this frantic and desperate embrace.

Aziraphale hung onto him, pulling him closer and closer in an attempt to not let him slip away. He held Crowley like he was something he was going to lose, like he was something he had finally pushed away in his dumb-witted attempt to protect him, like he was something he needed to stay together.

Crowley gripped onto Aziraphale’s shirt, keeping his hold strong and tight like he was something that was going to frantically run away the moment he would let go. He held Aziraphale like he was something he desperately wanted, like he was something he wanted to keep, like he was something he wanted to make understand that it didn’t need to disappear, like he was something that truly completed him.

Aziraphale was shaking as he helplessly tried to find a place to put his hands on Crowley’s back, desperate to return the sentiment in order to tell him that this was what he wanted, that he was mistaken, that he was a fool.

Oh, how it seemed that the world spun around them, blurring their separation to make them one ambiguous figure made up of clashing colors. Pointy lines and soft, gentle curves, deep reds and quiet blues, two separate ends of the spectrum that were nearly identical when looked at up close. The fates kept drawing them closer and closer, coincidences had become truths, light and dark had mixed and become a soft gray.

The mass seemed to split as Crowley broke them apart, panting as he tried to catch his breath for the angel had stole it. Aziraphale stumbled back in surprise, desperately trying to breathe as a shaky hand touched his lips, feeling the ghost of Crowley’s presence.

The rogue stared at his opposite as his body buzzed with adrenaline, his mind and voice completely silent and spent. While the angel’s halos were blindingly bright, Crowley did not squint as he studied Aziraphale’s shaking form. In a snap, their eyes met, and Crowley finally took a deep breath in relief.

His gaze wasn’t fearful or regretful. He couldn’t identify any doubt, any questions, any arguments. Aziraphale’s eyes were wet and shining, yes, but it was clear that he was far from upset.

“Please…” the cleric breathed. “Do it again. Please, do it again.”

Tears escaped from him as the angel pleaded. Crowley didn’t even need to think, he didn’t need to say a single word as he stepped close again and reached, gently cupping the cleric’s face in his hands. As their lips met once more, with less desperate ferocity this time, and their eyes gently closed in comfort, Crowley felt Aziraphale’s arms drape over his shoulders, his body melting against his as he finally relaxed.

“I’m not leaving, I was a fool. I’m still a fool. Will you ever forgive me for this mistake?” was what Aziraphale’s heart was pleading.

“Don’t be fearful. Whatever made you want to run, it’s our battle now,” Crowley’s heart called back. “It always has been, it always will be. Stay with me.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

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strsburn · 1 year

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hii!! can u pls write a drabble for lo'ak x fem va'vi where the reader fell first but he fell harder 😔 like he realized that the reader was so good at handling Tuk and made him think of how good their relationship is and how the reader handles lo'ak's doubts and whatnots. thank uu!!

something there ♡۰⸼ ۫ lo'ak

thank you for this request anon! i love this idea, and thankfully after being able to buy atwow on digital, i got over my writer's block. hopefully you like this x

Despite the attitude lo'ak often portrayed, he was a family man. Sure, he rolled his eyes whenever his brother pulled him into a side hug, and scoffed whenever his mother tasked him with bringing tuk along on his adventures, but he loved his family. He would do absolutely anything for them.

So, when he witnessed you, a pretty girl, but a stranger no less, indulging his little sister by playing along with her games, and being so genuinely invested in what she had to say, he was intrigued.

He watched with rapt interest as the two of you wrestled playfully, rolling around in the leaves, sending dirt everywhere as you both laughed in content. You, going as far as feigning fear when Tuk hissed playfully, her small fangs not fully grown, posing more of an angry kitten if anything.

"Lo'ak! Come meet y/n, she's so pretty, and cool. She plays with me and let's me win too!" Tuk cheered. Lo'ak had no choice but to come over as you had sat up, and been made aware of his presence.

It was only when you turned to face him, did he realize, you were not a stranger at all. In fact, he knew you. you had been the first female omaticayan to tame their ikran in under five minutes. an achievement that made him envious. you were the clan's best weaver as well, often creating the outfits for the festivities, and you were beautiful. a fact that all the male na'vi were aware of. himself included.

he felt himself stumble at the revelation, and his ears pinned back as you giggled along with tuk at his misstep. tail flicking behind him he tried to remain nonchalant as he neared you, offering a nod that had you raising a confused brow.

"uh..hey." he offered lamely, sending a sharp glare at tuk when she giggled, and made googly eyes, no doubt mocking his expression.

You smiled at him, offering a wave and he mentally cursed when he felt his tail swish happily at your sudden attention. What the hell was going on with him. He had just spoken two words to you, and all of a sudden his heart was fluttering in his chest, as if trying to find it's way back to whoever had stolen it.

Oh.

You had harbored a crush for Lo'ak, for as long as you could remember. Often tagging along with his siblings to their home, hoping to get a glimpse of him, and even trying to strike a conversation with him. He never seemed to be interested or even aware of your presence, and you had backed off, assuming your duties, all while trying to get over your feelings.

However, it seemed as if things had flipped, and now he was seeking you out. Finding excuses to spend more time with you, and watching you with such an intense gaze you'd have to look away.

Your relationship seemed to develop, yet neither of you made a move to further it, despite the obvious interest from both parties.

You sighed as you played with a yovo fruit, appetite now dissipated as you had allowed your thoughts to trail too far.

You perked up as a familiar voice called your name, tail swaying with interest as Lo'ak approached you, a nervous gait to his usual smug strut. His tail twitched nervously behind him, and you wondered what could have possibly made him so unsure of himself.

You knew he constantly compared himself to his older brother, and to his dad, to whom he looked up to, and strived to be. It saddened you that he didn't view himself as you did, confident, caring, and a strong heart.

"What is it, ma Lo'ak?" You asked, smiling proudly when a slight coloring appeared on his cheeks at your usual affectionate term for him.

He played with his fingers, before he took a deep breathe, and straightened up. His eyes found yours, and your breathe hitched at the adoration in his gaze.

"Oel ngati kameie." He spoke to you softly, his fingers trailing from his forehead towards you, in the traditional na'vi way. However those three words were laced with everything he didn't say. It was not a greeting, but a confession.

A smile broke out on your face as you repeated the gesture, a smile curling up on Lo'ak's lips as he stepped closer.

"I see you, Lo'ak. I always have."

You pulled him down, and into a kiss.

Nothing had ever felt so right.

#graysonshaven #lo'ak x reader #avatar fanfiction #drabble #mari writes #lo'ak #lovely anon

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mari-the-tortured-poet · 5 days

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I’LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW I WAS ENCHANTED TO MEET YOU

(livax thoughts)

#oc ships #mari’s ocs #eifie’s ocs #oc vax #oc livi #<- not mine #livax #oc aesthetic #enchanted taylor swift #mari and eifie #mari’s mutuals #mari writes #mari fangirls #kingdom nihil #nihil au

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sapphiretanto · 7 months

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Just throwing this out here…

If anyone wants me to write about something from TMNT 2012 (whether it be a character or a scene), I would be happy to write an analysis on it. Just message or ask me and I will try to break it down as best I can or get the talking points you want in there

I already have some that I plan on doing that, but if for whatever reason, you want me to talk about it, I will be happy to.

I will not include writing about any bashing of another tmnt show, tcest (yes this includes the romantic pairing of Leo and Karai), NSFW topics.

And please keep it to TMNT 2012. It’s the one I know best about. Thank you!

Topics I Plan to Write About Someday:

Mikey not being a “baby” and an actual menace (/aff)

Leo isn’t an asshole

They Chaotic Sibling Duo that is Karai and Leo

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2012 long posts #Mari rambles #Mari writes #I love doing scene or character analysis on 2012

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alrighttevans · 3 months

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wandering thoughts

She’s haunting him, he is sure of it. How else could she be lingering through his thoughts, burning her way through his mind?

Penelope Eckhart is chasing around Kallisto in his dreams.

read on ao3

Then, what intentions could she possibly have behind her actions?

Had she been dared to confess to him, too stubborn and prideful to decline such a thing? Had she truly gone mad?

Could she honestly harbour feelings towards him?

He couldn't help but ask why. What was there to love about him, about a dog that spent almost a decade rolling in the battlefield? Actually, his life out of the war wasn't much different. It was all about killing and avoiding being killed; every thought, every action, every fraction of his time was about survival. His good-looks, she said, his bravery, his skill with a sword, but all felt like empty words, all too superficial. If those were truly reasons to make people love him, he would be drowning amongst love promises for years now. She wasn't telling him her true reasons, which he desperately needed to hear, he had to know what could possibly have made her love him.

#i know this is from october #but i just needed to make a post for it #mari writes #ditoeftv #penelope eckhart #callisto regulus #penelope x callisto

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merrymorningofmay · 8 months

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you know what slapped? my long-suffering corinthian wip

(here it's pre-canon and he's voyeuring on hob dreaming of dream. btw)

#on the topic of the corinthian and his deal as a nightmare #corintheus #dreamling too actually but it's complicated #the sandman #mari writes #the corinthian

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mirror-mariposa · 7 months

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There’s a crypt in the deepest depths of the Deepfrost Citadel. A crypt with an eerie blue glow, filled with icy bones that whisper promises of destiny and greatness.

Tango stays away from it.

He knows a demon tomb when he sees one. He knows not to disturb a tomb with protection seals that signify a great threat.

Deep down, he knows he won’t be able to ignore the siren call of the bones for much longer. Knows that the power sealed in that crypt is stronger anything he can comprehend. Knows that as the Citadel gets colder, and the ice spreads around his base, that the tempting whispers spoken by those bones will only grow stronger.

After all, destiny cannot be undone.

For now, the dungeon is ready for its next victim.

#I’ve been thinking real hard about the lady bone demon and the ice theme with decked out #so I decided to combine them #tfw an ancient demon is buried in your dungeon game and slowly possessing you but it’s fiiiiiine #tangotek #lady bone demon #decked out 2 #mari talks #Mari writes

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mari-onberry · 2 years

Text

Velma/Daphne Legally Blonde AU for @augustwritingchallenge Day 5: Teachers

Velma was walking back to her dorm when she saw the girl from her class in a bunny costume. "Daphne?"

She lifted her head. She was crying. "Hey." She wiped her tears just enough to be able to see. "You're a TA, right?"

"Yeah, I remember you from Van Ghoul's class." Velma sat down next to her on the bench. "But why are you here? In that." She gestured at the bunny outfit.

Daphne threw herself back against the bench. "I was trying to impress my ex boyfriend."

Velma was shocked into silence. "You're here for a guy? Here at Harvard Law School?"

Daphne sat up, her eyes red and puffy but tears no longer streaming from her eyes. "Yes. It's stupid, I know."

Velma shook her head. "No, it's never stupid to follow your heart. Just make sure you're not just doing it for him."

A light went off in Daphne's eyes. "Right."

"Well, I'm going home. Are you going back to that party?"

Daphne stood up and took a few steps towards Velma. "Actually, can I come with you? I have some studying to do."

"It's a date," Velma told her, and put her jacket over Daphne's shoulders.

#scooby doo #velma x daphne #moodboard #mine #drabble #velma dinkley #daphne blake #mari writes

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thatdammchickennugget · 1 day

Note

heyyyy can u please do one where mattheo and the fem!reader are like dancing listening to love story by indila? omgg this has been in my mind foreverr. btw it's ok if you don't wanna do it.

toodlez!

C'est ta love story

pairing - mattheo riddle x gn!reader

warnings - soft!matty, established relationship

a/n - thanks for the request love 💕

wordcount - 487

The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting ethereal shadows across the room as you stood in the silence of the night. Your heart ached with a longing you couldn't quite put into words, seeking solace in the haunting melody of your favorite song.

As the first notes of the song filled the air, you closed your eyes and let the music wash over you like a gentle wave, wrapping you in its embrace. The melancholic melody tugged at your heartstrings, stirring emotions that lay buried deep within your soul.

With each graceful movement, you allowed yourself to be carried away by the music, lost in a world of your own making. Your body swayed to the rhythm, a delicate dance of longing and desire that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend watched from the shadows, captivated by your beauty and grace. Mattheo stood transfixed as he observed you from afar.

He had always admired your quiet strength and unwavering determination, but it was in moments like these, when you let your guard down and allowed your true self to shine, that he felt truly drawn to you.

As the song reached its crescendo, you spun gracefully, your movements fluid and effortless, like a dancer lost in a dream. And when you finally opened your eyes, it was to find Mattheo standing before you, his gaze soft and tender, filled with a warmth you had never seen before.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the fragile spell that had enveloped you both.

You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, as you reached out to take his hand. With a gentle squeeze, Mattheo pulled you closer, his touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. Together, you moved as if in a trance, your bodies perfectly in sync with each other and the melody that surrounded you.

In the intimacy of the moment, words became unnecessary, each movement speaking volumes. It was as if the music had woven a cocoon around you, shielding you from the outside world and allowing you to exist solely in this shared space of love and understanding.

As you twirled and swayed in each other's arms, the distance between you melted away, leaving only the raw vulnerability of two souls laid bare before each other. Mattheo's eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with an intensity that left you breathless.

In that fleeting moment, you felt more alive than ever before, as if every beat of your heart was synchronized with his. It was a dance of love and longing, of passion and desire, that transcended the confines of time and space. And as the final notes of the song faded into the night, you found yourselves lost in each other's embrace, your hearts beating as one.

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#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle imagine #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #writing #mari writes #mattheo riddle x reader

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erosso · 1 year

Text

sweetheart, come here — e.m

🌷: hiii!! so this is inspired by this ask that this wonderful anon sent! I was so in love with idea i wanted to try and write some smutty bfs dad!eddie brainrot<3 i hope you enjoy it! send me your thoughts or requests, im in my eddie phases again >:) also i dont condone cheating at all, just wanted to say that <3

contents: 18+, smut, cheating, bfs dad!eddie, older!eddie, piv, fem!reader, fem!receiving, praise, degradation, spit-play, breeding

[ in which your bfs dad becomes more than a father figure. ]

you don’t know exactly how you got to this point, but no matter how hard you tried to stray away, you couldn’t keep away from him. he was just always there.

you stopped by your boyfriend’s house, he needed some extra clothes and a few personal items for his dorm since he was just starting in his senior year of college. he was smart, and such a wonderful guy, but his father, he was something else.

you were always over at your boyfriend’s place when he would come home, you had time ever since you graduated a year before him, and you loved spending time at his house, it was just normal.

“oh, hi,” you smile softly, greeting your boyfriend’s mother.

“hi, honey, did he forget something again?” she always had a definite expression when talking about her boy.

“yeah, he texted me last minute, i just need to get a few pair of clothes he forgot to get,” you roll your eyes at how forgetful he was.

“of course, hun, i’m gonna head to the store real quick but eddie is in the garage if you need him,” she smiles, heading out the door and driving off.

“fuck,” you sigh in frustration.

it’s not like you didn’t like the little affair you had going on with eddie, but there was never a time you could just sneak in the house and leave quietly without him finding you and fucking you against the nearest surface.

moving your feet toward the back screen door, you see him under his truck. the grease on his fingers and the way you can see his happy trail peaking from under his riding shirt, it made you feel sticky, his hair was in a bun, some of his curly hair framing his face.

you took notice of his growing beard, he started growing it out, it looked good.

you didn’t want him to catch wind of you, so quietly moved your way upstairs to your boyfriend’s bedroom.

you couldn’t find the specific pair of jeans your boyfriend was requesting, and you were starting to get frustrated, slamming some of his drawers shut, “i don’t understand why he won’t just get a new pair,” you mumbled under your breath, looking back into his closet, kneeling down into the pile of clothes you left while on your search.

“i really don’t wanna have to fix that dresser again when you keep shutting the drawers like that,” your head snaps back at the doorframe.

eddie was leaning against the frame of the door, wiping his hands with a dirty rag, the grease staining his slim fingers, the grease on his wedding ring disappearing revealing the silver metal underneath. you notice his shirt is a bit cropped, he looked so good.

“sorry,” you nervously say, picking yourself up with the clothes you managed to find, “i found what he needed,” you wave some of the fabric in your hands, “sorry, i didn’t know you were here,” you lied, gripping at the fabric.

he smirked, “yes, you did,” he cocks his head to the side, his lips turning into a sarcastic pout.

you could feel your heart rate starting to pick up as he begins to make his way over to you, put the rag over his shoulder.

“avoiding me?” his finger hooks gently under your chin, “i missed you,” his eyes were big and brown, you loved when he gave you that look.

“eddie,” you tilt you head away from his finger, “i have to go, he’s waiting for me, and your wife is gonna come anytime soon,” you try to excuse.

“he can wait, and i told her to get me something for my truck, it’ll take her a while,” he rolls his eyes, “please, sweetheart?” he moves closer to you.

your palms softly touch his chest, his fingers dancing on the sides of your waist.

“fine,” you say, kissing his devious smile.

“good girl,” goes straight to your neck, his lips tickling the soft of your flesh.

“no hickies,” you hiss.

“well then how am i suppose to mark what’s mine?” he states more than questions.

“shut up,” rolling your eyes, you move your hands down to his belt, quickly unbuttoning, “already so hard?” you tease, your finger moving up and down slowly against his bulge.

“you’re playing to much,” you he grips your wrist, his other hand pushing your lower abdomen towards the wall of your boyfriends bedroom.

“well, come on.”

pushing his boxers down, his cock springs out, red and pre cum leaking from his tip, “i need you,” he almost pants, eyebrows furrowing in anticipation.

finally pushing your panties down from under your skirt, he takes notice of the wet spot that formed within the fabric.

“how cute,” he takes the fabric with your sweet aroma and quickly wraps it in his rag, pushing both back into his pocket.

“eddie,” you look up at him, hooking a leg around his waist as your eyes plead him to fuck you raw.

he takes no more time to slip in. you loved the sensation of his cock slipping into for the first time in a while. he was so big, the girth alone made your eyes roll back and a whimper escape from your trembling lips.

loving the way your head leaned back as he fucked into you, he held you leg closer to his waist and his other hand held your neck tightly in place, “your pussy feel so good baby, maybe i should have another son,” he praises.

the filthy things he would say to you made you want this more. it was wrong, but you couldn’t help yourself. you always had a little crush on eddie.

one hand grips at the hem of his shirt, trying to stable yourself even more.

the sound of skin slapping against each other started to become more prominent. the stubble of his pubic hair hitting the soft flesh of your cunt made you even more excited.

glancing into his eyes, you praise his looks, “growing out your beard?” you say a bit breathlessly, “i bet it would feel good when you’re eating me out,” you smile, as his grip tightens even more.

“you’re such a brat,” his movements get faster, making you yelp as he won’t slow down, and soon you start to feel yourself reaching your high.

“mhm,” he groans, “such a stupid slut for my cock,” looking down as his cock slides in and out of you, he spits onto his shaft, loving how the mixture if his spit and pre cum makes a sticky mess between you two, “open your mouth,” his ring digs into your jaw.

you do as your told, your tongue softly sticking out.

he spits into your mouth, he’s never done that before, but you like how he’s making you feel.

you smile innocently as you close your mouth.

“im gonna cum in you,” his pace never slowing down.

you could sense he was going to cum soon, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t almost there .

“breed me,” you kiss his jaw, “will you?” you plead softly against his neck.

“fuck,” he voice shakes lowly, his hips starting to stutter into you, you feel yourself cumming as he grips tighter onto you.

feeling the warmth of his cum starting to fill you up, you bring his hips closer to you, pulling him in with your leg, “i like it when you fill me up,” you kiss as his adams apple.

“fuck,” is all he can say as his breath starts to slow.

both of your grips on each other start to loosen up, your bodies slowly moving away, his red sticky cock softly springing out of you.

“you’re too much for me,” he chuckles as he pulls his boxers back up.

“so are you,” you push your skirt down, adjusting yourself as you grab your boyfriend’s clothes, “see you for your anniversary party,” you wink, making your way out of the room and out of the house.

#also i didn’t proofread</3 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #x reader #eddie x f!reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #eddie x female reader #bfs dad!eddie #older!eddie #mari writes

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marinovels · 1 year

Text

I wrote a fic on ao3 and decided to post it here as well! I'll do the same with the other one eventually, but since I just posted it I figured I might as well do it here as well. Enjoy!

(For a more immersive reading experience, listen to the song that gave this fic its title while reading the first half: Lavender Hills - by Brian Crain from the Piano and Cello Duet album.)

Thank you to AuroraLightsss, ilaiawanderlust, and Fable for beta reading this fic <3

___

It was a beautiful day. The sun sat at its apex, but there was a consistent, cool wind to cut through the heat of the rays. Whenever this breeze swept through the field, it would send a slow, satisfying ripple of purple spanning miles of rolling hills and fully bloomed flowers.

Lavender Hills - by marinovels

Legend blinked and was sitting in a seemingly endless field of lush purple flowers. The stalks were long and stuck straight up from the ground, but the ends were soft and made for a pleasant cushion beneath his hands and legs. They exuded the fragrant and notable smell of lavender.

There were fluffy white dollops of cloud in the sky, splattered throughout a vibrant blue. They varied in size, but none of them spoke of rain. They floated leisurely by, the few that crossed paths with the sun providing a brief reprieve of shade before moving along.

It was a beautiful day. Legend dared to assume it couldn’t get any more perfect. Then a wistful sigh caught his ear. He turned, and immediately revoked his previous assumption.

Sitting beside him in a much similar position, with hands bracing himself upright behind him and legs splayed out in front, basking in the sun’s glory, was Hyrule. Instantly, Legend was captivated by the sight of him, drawn into drinking in every detail, as if trying to paint it in his mind.

The rays fell around his silky brown locks like a glowing halo. They weaved around, up and down, holding each other, cupping under his ear and around his jaw, holding his face in a gentle caress. A chestnut bob of unruly curls that looked as soft as a newborn puppy felt. If it merely looked that way, Legend couldn’t imagine how it would feel to touch it. He found himself imagining anyway.

A sea of precious little freckles decorated smooth olive skin, it too illuminated to the state of radiance by the sun. They roamed over his rounded cheeks, down his neck, onto his collarbone, and what little could be seen of his chest before his tunic rudely intruded. They fell down his body like meteors in the night.

In the midst of his awed admiration, Hyrule turned to him. Legend’s breath caught in his throat as long lashes drew upwards to reveal shimmering green eyes that gleamed like polished gemstones. Flecks of gold sparkled deep within them.

As emerald green met sapphire blue, the contented smile that Hyrule had worn while he had been taking in the sun widened to a grin at the sight of Legend beside him. It was warm and genuine. It was a treasure no chest could ever hope to contain.

A breeze sent its usual ripple across the lavender field, but Legend paid it no mind. He was far too focused on how gently it lifted and swayed Hyrule’s curls in its own entrancing ripple. Legend could vaguely feel his own locks whipping against the side of his face. He hardly noticed the sting, far too lost in the sight of his companion so deeply within his element.

There was a sudden, pinching longing that spiked in Legend’s chest. It was abrupt, however not unpleasant, like the teasing scratch of dirt under his palms.

Hyrule’s hair looked so horribly soft, and all Legend wanted to do was feel it between his fingers. He wanted to take his hand and caress it with his thumb, counting every freckle that lay there. He wanted to pick him up, spin him around and around, relishing his laugh, reveling in his embrace. He yearned for the warmth of his presence even while he was within it.

He was engulfed, fully trapped in Hyrule’s kind gaze. He felt comforted absolutely by his companionship. He knew that there was no one else in the world who could make him feel this way. So unconditionally cherished, so thoroughly respected and admired.

That was when he realized that he loved Hyrule. Not in the way that he had loved Marin, for it wasn’t quite romantic, or his Uncle, for it didn’t replicate the love of family, or even Ravio, for it was still more than a friendship. It was a kind of love that was very specific. It was special and beautiful and only theirs. It was the only time that Legend could say, with true certainty, that he had never loved anyone the way he loved him.

He was so wholly enraptured with his realization, that he'd nearly missed it when Hyrule parted his lips to speak.

“Link,” he uttered, so sweetly that Legend had almost missed the oddity of it.

Link. He had called him by his real name. Their shared name. Hyrule only ever called him that to calm him after one of his frequent nightmares. Or when he was being stubborn about something. It was so out of place. So eerily inappropriate.

He called his name again. “Link!”

Legend opened his mouth to ask him why he was calling him that, but his throat felt tight. He felt hot in the face, uncomfortably so. He tried to breathe through his nose and found that his chest shook with every choked breath. Something light and wet tickled his cheeks and clung to his chin and suddenly the realm around him disappeared.

The pillow of flowers beneath him became the plush velvet of a luxurious and expensive sofa. The sun disappeared behind a sheet of gray clouds that hung overhead outside the window. The vast, beauteous field of lavenders became the inside of Zelda’s study, tinted gray with the dreary weather from outside intricately designed windows. Zelda herself looked concernedly at him from her place on the matching sofa across from him.

“Good goddesses, Link, are you alright?” She fussed, practically falling off of her seat with how she leaned in an obvious, desperate attempt to read him.

Wet continued to trickle down his face and it was only then that Link realized he had been silently, stoically weeping. His face had made no move to scrunch or squint with anguish. His mind had been so deeply obscured by his own thoughts that it only had the sense to tell his eyes to weep, and nothing else.

Link tried to remember what they had been discussing before his conscience escaped him. He couldn’t. He drew in another choked breath through his mouth, feeling the cool air pry the skin of his lips apart.

“Pardon me,” he began, his voice hoarse and painfully quiet, “could you repeat that one more time? What you said before?”

The princess seemed relieved enough to have at least gotten a response from him, but was rather apparently taken aback by the question. She blinked, trying to gather up a proper reply.

“Well, erm, you asked me what kind of tea I’d made.”

“Ah, right. What kind is it again?”

“It’s lavender, Link.”

Any further questions that Zelda might have asked after that, concerning his well-being or otherwise, were drowned out in the silence of Link’s mind. Lavender. He’d been so excited when Link had shown him that field. Link remembered clear as day how his smile had shown brighter than the midday sun. How he’d vowed to protect that smile with his very life.

He remembered all the promises made. He remembered how he could never fulfill them.

The grief in that statement tore Link back into his senses, like a suddenly overwhelming tsunami. Zelda had just finished a statement and looked expectantly at him. Link had caught the final inflection of her sentence. She’d asked a question.

He turned his gaze down to his cup, filled with warm swirling brown tea. The honey that he had added before he’d lost himself made a ring, a halo around the soft brown of the rest of the liquid. Not quite knowing how to answer what he hadn’t heard in the first place, he merely spoke the words already set upon his tongue.

“Lavender was his favorite.”

___

(Hope you enjoyed! Be sure to check it out on Ao3 as well)

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