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#marvel break my heart one more time i dare you
dewdropdinosaur · 1 month
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Fixer Upper
ALASTOR x (F)READER
Summary: Someone dared to break Alastor's precious radio and his wrath is inconsolable. But turns out you may have some small tricks up your sleeve.
Warnings: NONE
For the dearest @anon-of-the-void. My darling, it is a pleasure as always to write these for you.
In the bustling chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the fiery chaos of Hell, an unlikely friendship blossomed. Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, found solace in the presence of Y/N, an inventive soul from the Victorian Era who had found herself amidst the peculiar denizens of the underworld.
Y/N was a tinkerer, always tinkering away in her workshop, concocting gadgets and gizmos that would make even the most adept engineers marvel. Alastor, with his vintage charm and macabre wit, found her creations fascinating, and the two formed an unusual bond over their shared love for innovation.
One fateful day, disaster struck when Alastor's beloved old-time radio, his prized possession from his living days, broke down. The demon was devastated, his usual jovial demeanor clouded by a rare display of anger. The residents of the hotel trembled in fear, knowing the havoc that could be unleashed if the Radio Demon's rage remained unchecked.
Alastor's crimson eyes blazed with fury as he prowled the halls of the Hazbin Hotel, his usual jovial smile replaced by a menacing snarl. The residents cowered in fear, whispering among themselves as they caught glimpses of the Radio Demon's wrathful form.
"You there!" Alastor's voice boomed, sending shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to cross his path. "Do you have any idea of the inconvenience of my beloved radio breaking? The nerve, the audacity!"
Niffty, the hyperactive cleaner demon, spoke with a frantic passion as she viewed the mangled radio."Alastor! I'll do it! Let me clean it please!"
Alastor's laughter rang out like a chilling melody, sending a chill through the air. "Oh, my dear Nifty, no thank you. This requires some…interrogation but feel free to clean up the aftermath."
Angel Dust, lounging lazily on a nearby couch, scoffed, "Oh, lighten up, Al, it's just a stupid radio. Besides, it's not like anyone listens to your old-timey tunes anyway."
The room fell silent as Alastor's gaze bore into Angel Dust, his smile twisting into a sinister grin. "Is that so, my dear Angel? Perhaps I should demonstrate the consequences of underestimating the power of music."
With a snap of his fingers, Alastor summoned a spectral microphone, its ethereal glow casting eerie shadows across the room. "Now, let's see who's laughing when I unleash the full force of my wrath upon this wretched offender!"
The residents of the Hazbin Hotel trembled as Alastor's menacing laughter echoed through the halls, knowing all too well that when the Radio Demon was in a foul mood, no one was safe from his terrifying fury.
As fear spread throughout the hotel, Y/N knew she had to act swiftly to quell the storm brewing within Alastor's heart. Ignoring the warnings of her peers, she clandestinely snatched the broken radio and retreated to her workshop, determined to restore it to its former glory.Under the cover of night, she stealthily crept into Alastor's room, her pockets filled with tools and determination. With deft hands, she dismantled the broken radio, each cog and wire familiar to her skilled touch.
Hour after hour, Y/N toiled away, her nimble fingers dancing across the delicate machinery. With each adjustment and tweak, the radio gradually came back to life, its familiar crackle filling the air once more. But as the night wore on,  fatigue gnawed at Y/N's bones, her eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. But she pressed on, fueled by determination and a desire to see her friend smile once more.
Finally, with a soft click, the radio sprang to life, emitting a crackling sound before filling the room with the familiar strains of vintage jazz. Y/N let out a sigh of relief, a triumphant smile gracing her lips as she admired her handiwork.
But as she stood there basking in her success, fatigue finally caught up with her. With a yawn, she sank into a nearby chair, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep claimed her.
Unbeknownst to her, Alastor had been silently watching from the shadows, his expression unreadable as he observed Y/N's tireless efforts to fix his broken radio. When he saw her succumb to exhaustion, a pang of concern tugged at his heart, softening the edges of his usually stoic demeanor.
Quietly, he approached her slumbering form, his footsteps barely audible against the creaking floorboards. Gently, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch light as a feather.
"My dear Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "Such devotion, such selflessness. You truly are a marvel."
A warmth blossomed in Alastor's chest as he watched her sleep, a feeling he couldn't quite put into words. For the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to tenderness stirring within him—a feeling he realized with a start was nothing short of admiration.
With a soft sigh, Alastor leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead before picking up her form and striding over to his bed; tucking her in with the utmost care. As he stood there in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the quiet hum of the fixed radio and the soft breathing of his friend, he knew at that moment that he was irrevocably touched by her kindness.
And as the first light of dawn painted the sky, Alastor silently vowed to cherish and protect Y/N, for she had not only fixed his broken radio but had also managed to mend something far more precious—his wounded heart.
The next morning dawned upon the Hazbin Hotel, the air tinged with a sense of relief as the residents basked in the knowledge that Alastor's beloved radio had been fixed. Alastor strode into the lobby with a confident swagger, his usual grin plastered on his face. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the radio, the familiar crackle of static filling the air before giving way to the melodic strains of love songs from a bygone era.
The residents exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion evident as they listened to the unexpected playlist. Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, looks like someone's feeling a bit sentimental today."
Alastor's grin widened, though there was a hint of something softer lurking beneath the surface. "Ah, my dear Angel, music has a way of stirring the soul, don't you think?"
As the love songs continued to play, the other residents couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth wash over them. Even the gruffest demons found themselves tapping their claws to the beat, caught up in the unexpected romance of it all.
But as Alastor's gaze lingered on Y/N, who stood among the crowd with a shy smile, a wave of realization washed over him. It wasn't just any love songs he was playing—it was a silent declaration of his growing affection for the inventive soul who had captured his heart.
And as the music filled the room with its sweet melody, Alastor couldn't help but feel a surge of hope coursing through him. Perhaps, in the midst of Hell's chaos, there was still room for love to blossom—a love that transcended time and defied all odds.
With a soft chuckle, Alastor stole a glance at Y/N, his heart swelling with newfound courage. For in that moment, amidst the gentle strains of love songs and the soft glow of morning light, he knew that he was falling—falling head over heels for the one who had fixed not only his broken radio but also the shattered pieces of his soul.
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lizzieisright · 2 months
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hey hurt/comfort idea:
soo what about the reader and abby being best friends for years and reader always had a crush on abby. they go to a party and abby introduces her new gf to u. she always liked her but thought reader didn’t (always a bit horny around reader, but they know eachother since childhood so abby mistakes readers flirting as being flirty like friends) so reader gets absolutely hartbroken, drinks till she passes out but abby takes care of her ofc. abbys gf is always with her tho so it just hurts even more.
she avoids abby till the next frat prty or smth (maybe it’s college!au) and then they hook up, abby can’t remember cause she’s too drunk and is back w her gf
very messy but i hope u get the idea :P
(also to make it more hurtful make abby mean while she’s drunk bc she’s going through a rough time but isn’t telling anyone)
It took me so long, I'm so sorry
Palestine: what can you do
I've changed a few things (they don't hook up) because I can't deal with cheating, and I couldn't decide on what ending I wanted so there's a poll in the end.
Tags: Modern AU, childhood friends, Angst, pining and unrequited love, of course.
_______________
Abby is a fucking God, and you come to this conclusion when you're 11 and she helps you with your stupid assignment.
When you're both 14 you start to understand that what you feel for her is not, in fact, an admiration. 
You come to this conclusion when you sit in her bedroom and she jokes about teaching you how to kiss because you're a loser and you agree - and yeah, the kiss is a mess, but now you both know that you want to kiss girls. And you want to kiss one girl in particular, but Abby is your best friend and you won’t do anything that will lead to losing her.
Being a God means Abby is out of your reach and you have to live with your stupid feelings.
You're jealous of every boy who jokes around her to get her attention.
You're jealous of every girl who dares to look at her a little too long.
Abby is popular and she starts dating and it breaks your heart every time, and you can't look at other people because all your gods look like Abby.
"Why don't you go on a date?" Abby asks once when you're 16 and you're eating pizza in your bedroom, watching another marvel movie. "I think Jen likes you."
"I don't want to." What would be the point if the only person you want to date won't ever look at you this way?
"Why? Don't you get horny like the rest of us mortals?"
The worst part of being in love with your popular best friend is that she recently lost her virginity and she can't shut up about sex because she is excited about it.
"I have my hand, Abby." You roll your eyes at her.
"But it feels better when the other person does it." Abby winks and puts her hand on your thigh. "It's better, isn't it?" She rubs your thigh and your breath hitches. She looks at you, playful, and goes a little up on your thigh, and your face burns.
"You belong in horny jail, Anderson." You laugh, but don't move her hand: if you move it she'll call you a chicken, but she is a chicken enough herself to not move it further.
And she doesn't.
You live your life peacefully, dealing with your feelings as best as you can.
Then college starts and you're too busy to think about Abby 24/7 and you feel like it gets easier. Like you can breathe around her and you almost don't feel pain when she talks about her sex life.
Almost.
You know it's easy to deal with because all those girls in her bed are temporary while you're in Abby's life forever, and not because your feelings suddenly fainted. Abby likes to sleep around, she is a flirt even with you - a lot, actually, she thinks she can get away with a lot by saying she is touch-starved and then her hands wander off somewhere they're not supposed to be, and you let her, because you'll take whatever you can.
So you go through Abby's fuckboy phase with ease, because sex talk is way better than feelings talk.
A few years pass and suddenly the feelings talk starts, and you're slowly dying inside, because Abby likes someone. Abby talks about how nervous she is around her, she is always on her phone texting her, she is always busy when you want to spend time with her.
You hate this girl with all you have, because she takes Abby away, she takes everything away - Abby is not touchy anymore, she only hugs you briefly when you see her, she is not listening to you half of the time, too caught up in her fantasies.
You hope her girl is a bitch and an asshole and toxic so you can talk Abby out of it, but then Abby tells you she is going to introduce you at the party and you cry yourself to sleep that night.
"How do I look?"
"Like you need Jesus." You say honestly because Abby in the muscle tee and a pair of cargo pants makes you ache.
"Yeah?" Abby looks at you through the mirror with that fucking smirk she knows you like. "Am I fuckable?"
"We both know you prefer to be on the other end of that word, Anderson." You roll your eyes and put your shoes on only to straighten up to Abby's face way too close. She looks you up and down.
"You're very fuckable though."
"Fuck off." You huff and open the door of her apartment, hoping she won't tease you for being flustered. "Let's go before Manny gets so drunk you'll have to carry him. Again."
You spent the night in dread of meeting Abby's girl, dreaming of seeing her red flags or something to have a real reason to hate her to Abby's face, but then Abby lights up and she excuses herself to go and meet her girl, while you try so hard to not throw up from your nerves.
The girl is gorgeous.
"This is (y/n)." Abby motions at you and you smile politely. "This is Mia."
"I'm so happy to meet you." Mia smiles and she looks kind and genuine and fuck, you can't hate her. There's no jealousy in her, no fake smiles, no tense body language. "Abby loves you so much."
You swallow hard.
"I put up with so much of her shit, she doesn't have a choice." You joke and Mia laughs.
Mia is funny and cute and you understand why Abby likes her, because it's impossible not to. Mia is a type of girl that you'd think of as a bitch because she is popular, therefore arrogant, but when you get to know her she is a total sweetheart who'd help you find a way to your class if she notices you're lost.
This is hard.
This is going to break you.
You can't cope with this. You can't cope with seeing Abby's gentle gaze on Mia, with her careful touch and constant care. So you excuse yourself and go to the bar to get drunk, as if you can drown your feelings by dragging them to the bottom of the bottle. You dance and you drink, you dance and you drink and repeat it five other times until all long islands make you feel sick and you can't walk by yourself anymore. You're an independent woman and you refuse to ask for help, but when you can't order a taxi for the fifth time because your eyes are so blurry, Mia comes to you and holds you by your elbow.
"We will take you home, okay?" She says kindly and you feel your lips tremble. We.
"Jus- can you c'll a taxi f'me?" You slur, but you feel Abby's hand on your waist as she supports you. "Don't wanna ruin your night."
"You're not ruining anything." Mia says cheerfully and orders a taxi when Abby gives her your address. "Happens to the best of us."
The drive home makes you super dizzy and Abby has to put her hand between your head and the car door because you hit it all the time. The moment the car stops and Abby goes around to help you get on your legs, you throw up on the ground and it's a miracle you don't get everyone's shoes dirty.
Abby decides to carry you to your place and you can't shut up even for a second.
"I'm s'sorry guys. Not a good first impression. I really like you, Mia. You look kind. Like a grandma. In a good way, I'm sorry." Mia giggles. "Your laugh is very cute. It's cute, right Abby?"
"Yeah." Abby agrees quietly and what you don't know is that for her your drunken rant was way cuter than her girlfriend's laugh.
"Yeah. You look great together, I'm s'happy for you Abby. Haven't seen her that nervous because of a girl in years, can you imagine, Mia? You make this asshole nervous." You're chuckling sadly, you want to cry because you don't make Abby nervous.
No, you just embarrass her in front of her girlfriend because you're so pathetically in love you can't deal with it and drink half of the bar until you forget how to walk on your own.
Abby helps you change and Mia gives you water. She makes sure there is fresh air in your room and she tucks your blanket, and you close your eyes to hide your tears because Mia is so nice. She is a dream girl and Abby is so happy and there is no space for you anymore.
Because Mia took your place in that forever equation.
On the next day you text your apologies to both Abby and Mia (she followed you on instagram and asked you how you felt) and you can't deal with this. It hurts so much because you love Abby so much and you want her to be happy but it seems like the price of it is going to be your heart.
So you start avoiding her as best as possible, and what is more sad - it's not even that hard. Abby is always with Mia, fuck, Mia even asks you to come with them to hang out, which you always find an excuse not to. Library, fever, other plans, other plans again, sorry, paper is due tomorrow, my aunt is in town (she is not). Anything to not meet with them.
You still see Abby during classes and you give each other life updates, but it's been weeks since you actually hung out and you accept the reality that yes, there's no place for you in Abby's life anymore.
You cry every fucking night.
Then Abby suddenly remembers you exist and she asks you if you want to hang out, just the two of you, because she misses you. You miss her too and you agree.
You regret it the moment she cuddles you in front of her tv. She has a girlfriend now, why is she so touchy again? Did something happen with Mia that Abby came to you?
"Is everything okay with Mia?"
"Yeah, she is great." Abby says and buries her nose in your neck.
No. You can't deal with this.
So you start avoiding Abby at all costs after this - you can't shake the feeling that this is cheating, because for you Abby's touch has never been platonic, no. And it never felt platonic either, it was always giving you hope because Abby was flirting and touching the way friends don't touch each other. Maybe one day she'd finally give you a chance, you thought, but this day never came.
It is another party a month and half later - yay, Abby and Mia have been together for two months now! - and you don't know if Abby is going to come, but you hope she doesn't. You know she knows something is up and she will want her answers if she meets you.
But you have fun. You play games, you drink, you dance, you get flirted with and you forget about your pain just to get so drunk again you can't help but go outside to find a place to cry in peace.
You miss Abby, you miss her because she is a part of you and yes, you're in love with her, but she also your best fucking friend and you hate yourself for being in love with her, because it ruins your life. It has been ruining your life since you were fourteen and actually understood what you felt, but now it was getting serious.
"(Y/n)?"
Fuck.
You wipe your tears and look at Abby who is standing right in front of you.
"Hi." You squeak and she drops on the knees to look at you.
"Did something happen? Why are you crying?"
"I'm just sad. Don't worry." You try to smile but Abby's frown makes you cry more. "I'm going home anyway, so you can enjoy the party."
"What the hell are you saying? I'm not leaving you."
She should. She should leave you and not complicate it further.
Abby calls a taxi and you chuckle in your head - If you had a nickel for every time Abby was taking your drunk ass home, you'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.
You tell her as much because the meme is funny and you try to be positive.
Abby helps you out of the car and this time you don't throw up.
"You know, last time I totally embarrassed myself in front of Mia." You chuckle and make your way upstairs with Abby's arm around your waist. "She is cute, I'm so happy for you."
Abby chuckles and leads you inside your apartment, but between the two of you she is mostly sober and she has some questions, and she wants her answers. You know this too, so when you sit on your sofa you feel like all your shields are crumbling: you’re giving up on hiding this from her. If this is the end, so be it.
"You've been avoiding me." Abby says quietly, looking you in your eyes like she is just a little bit mad. 
"Yeah, I know." You admit with a chuckle. "You have a girlfriend now, it's so cool. When was the last time you liked someone like that? Back in school?"
"So you've been avoiding me on purpose." 
"I don't think you can avoid someone accidentally, Abby.” You say, not holding back your venom. “Anyway, I’m so happy for you.”
“Why are you avoiding me?” Abby moves closer to you  and you swallow your tears because there’s nowhere to run.
“Because it’s easier.” You shrug. “I just want you to be happy, okay? Does Mia make you happy?”
“Yeah.” Abby admits and you start crying again: it hurts so fucking much. 
“Good. It’s good. I’m happy for you.” You sniffle and Abby huffs, annoyed.
“Stop saying that. Stop avoiding my questions.”
Inside you all hell breaks loose.
“I love you, okay?” You finally burst. “I love you, and it hurts so fucking bad and I can’t fucking see you with her or know that you’re with her! What do you want me to do? What would you do if you were me? I can’t- I can’t-” You throw your hands desperately and bite your lip, too angry with this whole situation.
“I love you too.” Abby says, confused.
“No, no Abby, you don’t understand.” You’re quiet and angry, almost spitting every word out. “I’m in love with you. I’m not jealous as a friend, Abby. I’m jealous because I want to be in her place, okay? Fuck, I wanted to be in your every girl’s place since you started dating girls!” 
There is silence. You thought it would be terrifying - this silence - but right now you feel nothing except how dizzy your head is. You feel empty and there's no tears anymore. Abby stares at you in shock, her fists clenched, and you chuckle cynically. 
“So can I continue avoiding you now or should I suffer more?”
“Fuck, (y/n)..” Abby sighs and rubs her forehead, going over her face with her palm. “Fuck. Don't do this to me.”
“Well.” You huff, annoyed. “Not like I have a fucking choice, Anderson.��
Abby throws her head back and stares at the ceiling while you do the same, trying to keep your drunk ass stable. You feel like eternity passes before Abby speaks again, and it is strangely comforting, having your best friend here with you, in this boat of pain, and sharing it with her. 
“All these years. All these years we could have been together.” Abby sounds like she is mourning. 
You thought your heart broke when you met Mia? Forget it, it's broken now.
You sob, howl almost, and Abby is suddenly holding you in her arms, placing kisses to your hair. Her heart can't handle seeing you cry, never could - yes, she tried to move on with Mia, and it worked partially, but all her effort went to shit just now. You're the most precious girl to her and nothing can change it. Abby swallows and braces herself, suddenly making a decision in her head, all her anxiety about what is a right thing to do gone. 
“You know what? Fuck it. Fuck all that time we've missed. I'm not letting you go now.” Abby says in your ear and you sob even more violently. “Come on, baby, I'm here. Let me see your face.”
You can't believe it. You can't even process it: is it your drunken dream? Are you hallucinating? It would definitely not be the first time. But you look up at Abby and she gently wipes your tears and there’s so much love and hurt in her eyes it’s hard not to break into another sobbing fit. 
“I've been in love with you since we were seventeen.” Abby smiles at you and you shakily smile back. “I’m sorry it came to this. But I'm here now.”
“I love you.” You say feverishly and Abby's restraint breaks.
She kisses you hungrily, practically devouring you, and you're weak, so you return her kiss and press into her, soaking in her warmth and strength. Abby is solid and tender, she holds you like she cares and you cling to her for a moment.
But then you remember yourself and push Abby away, shaking your head.
“No. You're better than this. You're not going to betray Mia like this. I'm not going to let you, Abby. We're not doing this,” You motion between yourself and her. “Behind your girlfriend's back. And I'm also fucking drunk.”
Abby chuckles and kisses your forehead. 
“Come on, I'll help you get into your bed.”
Everything else after is a blur as Abby helps you change and covers you with your blanket, and you fall asleep. You can't wait for the morning to come.
****
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little-diable · 8 months
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I Remember Everything - Tommy Shelby (smut)
Written for my lovely @runnning-outof-time - I hope this is what you had in mind with this story. Inspired by Zach Bryan's song "I Remember Everything". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Tommy only smiles when he gets to drink, (y/n) only dares to marvel at her best friend when he’s distracted. A rising sun and moments shared since childhood days finally bring the two closer together.
Warnings: 18+, piv smut, quite soft smut, friends to lovers, some angst because of family troubles, mentions that the reader didn’t have an easy past but nothing specific
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (about 2.5k words)
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An eerie silence wrapped itself around the two. His piercing eyes kept staring at the almost empty glass of his, trying to burn holes into the shards that could easily cut his aching heart. She wanted to speak up, wanted to break through the silence that grew thicker like soldiers moving closer with their unbreakable shield wall, but she couldn’t.
She watched him pour alcohol down his throat, one glass after another, desperately trying to drown his pain, his guilt, his anger in one of the devil’s finest creations. Her mouth was dry, throat tight, unable to speak to the man she longed for, desperately trying to soothe his pain.
It had always been like this, ever since they’ve been young children. He’d keep his every sorrow bottled in, relying on his closest friend to take away the pain he couldn’t get rid of without her help. Tommy Shelby was a good man, a man with a pure heart and too much blood sticking to his fingers, but Tommy Shelby was also a blind man, an overly oblivious man, not seeing through the pain (y/n) had to carry around with herself, unable to rely on the friend who could only worry about his business.
Whenever the ship he was sailing through uneasy waters was close to sinking, wood soaked through like the fabric tied to the high mast, she’d sail next to him, dragging him through every storm he found himself trapped in. Though while he mistook it for simple coincidences, allowing her to turn up whenever he needed him, she grew more uneasy by the minute, wondering how much longer she’d be able to keep up this charade.
“You see, Tommy.” She cleared her throat, fingers interlaced in her lap as if she was about to start praying. “You know by now that I’ll do whatever I can to help you, that’s what you called me here for after all, I guess. But I can’t help if you don’t tell me what happened.”
A humourless laugh left the man who forced yet another cigarette between his lips, lips (y/n) found herself aching for whenever she got the time to marvel at the handsome man. Fuck, she wished she didn’t remember every moment on the days and nights she spent with him, and yet she couldn’t get rid of them, forced into her memories like the languages she had once been forced to learn, speaking them all too effortlessly by now.
“Do you remember how we’d sneak out at night to watch the sunrise?” Her soft voice filled the room once again, finally managing to force a smile onto his lips. To others it was an unfamiliar sight, Tommy Shelby wasn’t one to smile around others, wasn’t one to give away the emotions he found himself guided by, but with her it had always been different, with her it had always been transparent, well, besides the emotions both fostered for one another, unable to act on them. “Come.”
(Y/n) rose to her feet, hand stretched out for Tommy to take. It took him a moment to rise to his feet, cigarettes and alcohol long forgotten as she guided him out into the cold night. No words were spoken as he wrapped his arm around her middle, keeping her close in an almost too protective matter. Her heart pounded in her chest, a tad bit too fast, and yet slow enough to keep the way he made her feel hidden from his sharp gaze and his curious ears.
Both knew the route to that one empty house by heart, they’d always find their way to it, no matter where in the city they were staying at. But today both didn’t walk with fast steps, no, today they took their time, not wanting to let the passing by seconds turn into minutes and hours all too quickly.
“I’ve always wondered how you could so easily trust and help people you meet. It’s like a gift, a talent I can’t help but be jealous of.” Tommy’s soft voice cut through the fog of silence, tightening his grip on (y/n) as her eyes met his. The sounds of their steps echoed through the night, through the almost empty streets they’ve been waking for years. “You’ve been hurt, beaten, and abused. I’ve once sworn that I’ll kill whoever dares to touch you, and yet you managed to forgive them, each and every one of them. How?”
“Who is it, Tommy? What happened?” The two came to a halt in front of the old brick house as he let go of her to push his weight against the wooden door. It took him a few tries to finally open it, allowing them to step into the dark house. Tommy ignored her question, keeping quiet as they walked up the stairs, one by one, climbing higher like lost souls walking the stairs to a new life. But nothing new was awaiting the two up there, nothing but a still somewhat dark sky.
“You know, you’ve changed a lot, you’ll never be the man that you always swore, Tommy, but I know you’re no stranger to forgiveness. I think you’re afraid of it, whatever it is that plagues your mind.” The two entered the roof - with another cigarette placed between his lips and his fingers aching for yet another glass, Tommy walked closer to the edge of the familiar ground. She watched the smoke leave his nostrils, blown into the night like the lives he had taken over the past years, rising numbers that evaporated into the thin air, forgotten names and fates they no longer recalled.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, not when you know that you’re being betrayed, not when you know that those you should trust the most are trying to sell your life to the highest bidder.” A sharp inhale of the cold air was sucked into (y/n)’s lungs, arms wrapped around herself as she stepped closer to him. With her eyes set on the horizon, on the rising sun, she placed her chin on his shoulder, not daring to move. For a few more moments they cherished the quietness, watching the sky turn into the rawest colours known to humankind.
Tommy’s hand found hers, resting on his shoulder like it had done numerous times before. Slowly he turned towards (y/n), hand finding her chin to keep her eyes on him. (Y/n) always felt naked beneath his gaze, trying to cover up as if she was scared that her body would tell him all about the love she fostered for him. But Tommy didn’t give her the chance to move, thumb softly stroking her cold skin.
Both couldn’t help but ache for one another, though keeping quiet - even as (y/n) nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. His hand found the back of her head, softly stroking her hair, eyes focused on the orange sky. Whenever he had found the strength to speak up, he had begged (y/n) to stay around till the sun would rise, needing to hold her close like a life vest meant to save him. She was everything he wished he didn’t ache for but desperately did.
“I love you, Tommy. No matter what, I’ll always be there for you.” She pressed a kiss to his throat, making his eyes flutter close at the unexpected gesture.
“Don’t make promises like that, (y/n). I’m no good friend, I’m selfish for keeping you around, but you’re the only good thing keeping me sane.” (Y/n) pushed him away to get a look at his features, all too used to the pain swimming in Tommy's bright pupils. She cupped his face with both hands, keeping the man close as she shook her head, wondering how she could explain to him that he was all she needed.
“We both know that’s not true, you’re my best friend, I’d die for you in a heartbeat, and I know you’d do the same for me.” Tommy gently pushed her hands away, eyes fluttering close for a second before a scoff left him. His hand rubbed his tired eyes, trying to hold back the words that no longer could be stopped from rolling off his tongue.
“Best friend, fuck, I wish that’d be enough for me, but it no longer is. I’ve been stupid, keeping my mouth shut for your own sake, but everything is burning around me, what loss will it be if I add more fuel to the flames, eh?” She didn’t understand what he was talking about, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly parted. With dilated pupils (y/n) watched him step closer once again, cupping her cheek with one hand, while the other found her neck.
His warm breath clashed against her tingling lips, wondering what he was about to do. They didn’t break eye contact, wondering who’d start moving first. (Y/n) felt her heart pounding, racing in her chest as her mind slowly began to realise what was about to happen. His lips found hers, kissing (y/n) slowly to give her the chance to pull away should she want to escape from this moment. But she didn’t, she was frozen to the ground, lips moving in sync with Tommy’s.
The sky looked as if it was burning, the flames kept rising higher, setting their bodies ablaze with its strength. Their moans rippled through them, echoing through the early morning like shots being fired in the distance. Tommy tasted of cigarettes, of the alcohol he had forced down his throat an hour ago, while (y/n) tasted of home, of a feeling so unfamiliar Tommy found himself addicted within moments.
Both broke the kiss with aching lungs, needing to catch their breath as he pressed his forehead against hers. Neither Tommy nor (y/n) dared to speak up, relishing in one another’s touch. Their bodies moved them down the stairs of the house, into the morning, with interlaced fingers and intertwined souls. He guided her back through the streets, finding their way to her apartment, to the home she had bought years ago and couldn’t dare to think of parting from it ever again.
“Tommy?” (Y/n) whispered his name as they shrugged out of their coats and stepped out of their shoes, finding back together at the first chance to move. “What does this mean?" She gestured between the both of them, staring at Tommy as if he was God himself, about to answer her every question. "I love you, but I can’t just be an easy distraction for you.”
“I love you more than I’ll ever be able to express with words, with gifts, with gestures. You’re my home, (y/n). I once swore to always protect you, eh? I won’t hurt you, I promise.” He kissed her once again, allowing her gleeful chuckles to vibrate on his lips as she guided him into her bedroom, begging Tommy to show her how much he loved her, needing to feel him close.
“You’ll be the death of me, Tommy Shelby, what would my mother say when she’d see us like this?” His skilled fingers popped open the buttons of her dress one by one, letting the dark fabric fall to the ground as he pushed it down her shoulders.
“She’d force me to come to church with her, she’d wash my hands with holy water and would try to hide me away from your father. I'd probably be shipped off to some monastery, forced to become a priest. My eternal punishment for blemishing her daughter's soul.” (Y/n)‘s loud laugh echoed through her bedroom, a sound that was swallowed by her moans seconds later as he kissed her neck, pulling her into his chest. Her fingers started moving, freeing him of his vest, his shirt, and his trousers. Both were in a hurry to get one another naked, not wanting to give the fabrics keeping them apart any more time to distract them.
“Make me yours, forever.” Her sultry voice left the man groaning, pushing her down on her bed as he crawled up her frame, nestling between her thighs. Their kiss grew hungrier, sloppier as his hand moved down her frame, stroking her breasts, teasing her hardening nipples before he finally found her aching core. She was soaked, dripping for the man who found himself smiling down on her. It was unfamiliar to her, seeing him smile without any alcohol near, and yet (y/n) couldn’t help but pray that she’d get to see this smile more often from now on.
“I’ve always wondered if I’d eventually get to see you like this, bare for me, for my eyes only. But this is better than I could have ever imagined.” Tommy’s praises left her gasping, eyes fluttering close as he circled her clit with his fingers, making her hyperaware of his every touch.
“Need you inside of me, Tommy, please. We’ve wasted too much time already.” A hum left him as he let go of her, pumping his cock for a few seconds before he spat down on it, lubing himself up. With one of her arms finding it’s way around his neck and her legs clinging to his waist, Tommy allowed himself to push into her, slowly, carefully.
Her walls pulsed around him, begging him to build a comfortable rhythm. Their bodies met with every thrust, pushed closer and closer together as they shared the love they felt without any words being spoken. Their bodies perfectly moved together, pushing them higher and higher with every thrust, with every moment where he pressed against her swollen spot, with every circling motion around her pulsing bundle of nerves.
Neither of them had ever experienced something this raw, something this full of emotions, something this intimate. No matter how many times they’ve been touched by lovers, strangers, and those they no longer could remember, it had never been this intense, this raw, this exciting.
“You’re so big, stretching me so good, don’t ever stop Tommy, don’t ever let me go, keep me forever.” Her whispers were torn between sobs and moans, a sound so beautiful Tommy wanted to record it, to keep it stored in his memories like the first time he had heard his son laugh. His lips found hers, sealing the promise with a loving kiss.
His pace grew rougher, chasing both their arising highs, set on pushing one another over the edge within the next moments. (Y/n) gave in first, eyes rolling back into her head, forcing her fingernails to scratch at his skin, leaving marks down his muscular back. He kept fucking her, forcing his cock to disappear deeper and deeper inside of her till his orgasm clawed through him, painting her walls white.
“I love you.” Her words left him smiling, letting go of her to reach for a tissue. Tommy took his time with cleaning her up before he pulled her into his chest, cradling her closer and closer.
“I’ll get you a ring in the afternoon.” She froze in his grasp, confused eyes flickering up to his. An almost boyish grin stuck to his lips, tilting his head down to kiss her slightly swollen lips. “You want forever, and I promise to give it to you, even if it’s the last promise I’ll be able to keep.”
I wish I didn't, but I do, remember every moment on the nights with you
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
Text
𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆
summary - you and ransom had thought of playing a game, a game of jealousy. in the beginning, everything was fine, it was fun, but lately, it felt as though he no longer loved you, that he’d rather the women he flirted with. after the party, do you think their relationship can be resolved?
warning - angst, self-hate, talks of cheating.
the gif and headers I use aren’t mine, and the divider is by @firefly-graphics
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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You remembered when you and Ransom made up this silly game. Oh, how stupid you were for agreeing to it. You didn’t think it would hurt as much as it did. At first, it was fun. Getting to see Ransom all worked up and jealous, but it changed… Drastically, it changed. You were the one to get worked up and jealous. Maybe it was because he seemed to enjoy other women’s attention more than yours now. Did you push it too far? Was it your fault that he’s falling out of love with you? It couldn’t be, right?
You and Ransom were hosting a party tonight. You weren’t as excited as you used to be. Parties with the love of your life used to be fun, but now with the neverending game... It felt like a punch in the face because no matter how pretty you made yourself, his eyes always seemed to be watching someone else.
You sighed as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The white dress with black outlines clung to your body. Your hair was neatly clipped back, with a few strands framing your face, and you stared into the eyes of the girl you once were. Your eyes were sad, drained, lifeless. The black eyeliner around them didn’t do much, nor did the deep red lipstick that covered your plump lips. The very lipstick that Ransom said was his favourite, but lately, it wasn’t.
Why were you doing this? Why couldn’t Ransom see that the game was now hurting you? Did he even want to see it? Was he happier getting a free pass to cheat because all it was to him was a game?
“Babe, the party is starting. Are you ready?” Your eyes connected with his through the mirror, noticing how he just leaned against the doorway. You remember when he used to sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around you, peppering your neck with kisses until you’d break into giggles, playfully pushing him away. Now, he just stands there… He looked annoyed, like he’d been waiting forever.
You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. Glancing in the mirror one last time as you smooth out your dress, you slowly head toward the door. Feeling saddened when you find it empty, Ransom has already left, making his way to greet your guests. You had entered the room, already noticing that Ransom was flirting with some beautiful, busty redhead. Her hand squeezes his biceps as she giggles at whatever he says, your heart would squeeze at the sight of his hand resting on her hip, but you’ve become numb to it all.
You smile at your guests as you walk to your built-in bar. Hoping and praying that they couldn’t tell how fake it was, how you no longer felt happy. You made it to the bar, sitting on the stool and waving to the bartender. You give the man yet another very well-performed fake smile while ordering a drink. You don’t dare turn around when you take a sip, not wanting to watch your boyfriend with another woman. You wished you had the courage to end this game and tell him no more. You thought he’d notice the game was over when you no longer flirted with other men, but you guess Ransom was too into his head to see anything else.
“Y/n? Is that you?’ You turn your head slightly, and the seat beside you is filled as a man from your past sits down. He smiles at you, eyes sparkling with the happiness you wish you had. You wouldn’t deny the jealousy you felt by how genuine his joy looked. “Wow! It’s been so long! You look absolutely gorgeous! How have you been?”
You smile softly at his compliment, taking a sip of your drink before you respond. “Hi, Steve. I’ve been good… How about you? Last I heard, you opened your own art studio?” He nods, ordering himself a drink as he continues to smile at you.
“Yeah! It’s honestly the best decision I’ve made. Are you sure you’re okay? I thought you and Ransom were doing well?” You could’ve broken down right then and there at his concerned gaze. You wondered why he would ask such a question, so you turned. Oh, what a dumb decision. Why did you have to turn? Because there stood your boyfriend, with the redhead pushed against the wall as he continued to flirt, his hands dangerously close to her ass and her hands tangled in his hair.
“Oh… Uh, yeah. It’s just an uh… It’s a game that we have going on between us….” You quickly chug the rest of your drink, feeling tears brimming your eyes and the lump in your throat grow more significant. You refuse to look into Steve’s eyes, knowing they’d be filled with pity and confusion. “I–I’m going to… I need some air… If you’ll excuse me….” You quickly stand and rush outside, rushing around to the wall where you can’t be seen. Heartbreaking sobs escape you, your hands flying up so no one can hear you. You let it go, all the pain and heartbreak.
You didn’t hear or notice Steve following you, and you didn’t know you weren’t alone until you felt arms wrap around you, hands stroking your hair as they pressed you into their chest. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. Everything will be okay.” Steve held you as you cried, rocking you slightly. His head turns, and his eyes connect with worried blue ones. Ransom had watched you leave the room, and he was confused about why you were crying in another man’s arms.
You slowly pull back, clearing your throat and blinking away the tears. You look at Steve’s shirt and frown. “Oh, god. I ruined your shirt… I’m so sorry.”
“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He continues to stroke your hair, looking deep into your eyes as he says this. You hear a huff and look over, your eyes finding your boyfriend’s. You notice the frown set on his face before he rolls his eyes and storms inside, probably to continue to flirt with the redhead. You could feel the numbness begin to set in, wondering how long you’ll be able to continue in a relationship where there’s no longer any love. “Hey.” Steve lifts your head, “go talk to him. Maybe this is a big misunderstanding? He followed you out here after noticing you left, shouldn’t that account for something?”
“Maybe…” You blink, your hands coming up to fix your makeup, but what does it matter? It’s not like anyone cared. “Thank you, Steve… Maybe we could go for lunch sometime?” Steve smiles, nodding before he reaches up and begins to help with your make-up, wiping away the mascara.
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A few more hours passed before the party finally came to an end. You and Ransom had headed outside to say goodbye to the guests. His arm wrapped securely around your waist. You had noticed his focus had been more on you after what had happened outside. As the last of the guests were leaving, you saw the redhead that Ransom had been flirting with walking toward you both, her hips swaying, adjusting her bra so that her breasts were pushed up.
“Ransom.” She purrs, touching his arm when she stops before him, batting her eyelashes at him. “It was so good seeing you. You’ll call me, right?” You felt sick as his arm slowly slid from your waist, landing on hers as he smiled down at her.
The walls were built too high, and you could feel the alarms going off in your head. Warning you that your emotions were going into lockdown, begging you to feel. You stood there, again watching your boyfriend flirt with some easy bimbo right in front of you and when he looked at you. You could’ve sworn he looked broken. You weren’t sure why, though? He seemed to have what he wanted, but you didn’t know that Ransom wanted you to look at him with love in your eyes again. He wanted you to have the light and happiness in them when you used to look at him. But all he got was sadness. They were no longer full of life, just lifeless.
He wouldn’t admit it, but seeing you with Steve felt like a stab to his heart. Ransom could tell the smile you gave Steve was genuine, one that you’d only faked with him recently. Before he could say anything, you left, turning your back on him and walking back into the house.
“Can you just fuck off already? Jesus, why the fuck would I want some bimbo when I have the most amazing woman in there?” He growled, glaring at the whore in front of him.
“Really? You started flirting with me! You fucking asshole!” He felt the sting on his cheek, but Ransom didn’t care. He needed to win your love back. Ransom thought you were enjoying the game. He was an idiot for agreeing to it. Why did he do it? Why agree when he didn’t even find any other woman attractive? Ransom only wanted you. He wanted the whole package. Marriage, kids, grandkids. But he only saw that with you, not these worthless whores.
He stormed into the house and on the way to his room. He quickly realised his many mistakes, the flirting and the distance. Ransom had realised he didn’t compliment you on the stunning dress you picked out, god, he loved the dress. He loved that you wore his favourite shade of lipstick on your lips, the lips he loves kissing, the lips he’s missed.
As Ransom reached his room, he felt his whole world shatter around him. There you stood in front of the mirror, studying and judging yourself. He watches you cup your breasts, pushing them together and up, how you turn to stare at your ass. Ransom slowly stepped into the room, and your eyes snapped up and connected with his saddened ones. He could see that you tried to wipe the lipstick off. A beautiful shade of red was smeared across your cheek. Your hair was down and messy from the clip being torn out and thrown across the room.
“Princess–”
“Don’t.” You glare before turning and heading to the bathroom to wash off your makeup. Ransom follows. His heart was heavy as he thought of ways to make it up to you.
“The game was a stupid idea… I shouldn’t have agreed or continued to flirt with those women.” He leans against the bathroom door, continuing to talk even though you don’t look at him. “I don’t want anyone else, not since I met you. Hell, I’ve even had thoughts of starting a family and marrying you, only you. Anytime I try and think of doing that with anyone else, you are the only one I can think of.” He blinks back the tears that threaten to spill, “I’m the biggest idiot alive. I had the most beautiful woman on my arm and left it too late to see it.”
You stopped halfway through, taking your make-up off, staring at him through the mirror as he continued to ramble on. “If you mean that, why were you so close to her against the wall? Why did it seem like more than flirting?”
Ransom groans, rubbing his face. “Because I’m stupid! Because when I saw you and Steve talking, I realised how close I was to losing you forever!” He moves closer, spinning you and grabbing your hands. Ransom stares you in the eyes. “I always knew that you deserved someone like Steve, hell. You deserve so much more than this life, and when I saw you giving him a smile I haven’t seen since we started this stupid game. I lost it, and I became a dumb man.”
Your lip wobbles, eyes brimming with tears as you stare up at him. “And then, when I saw you rush outside, he followed you. I felt like I had failed, especially when I followed and saw you in his arms. My god, Princess, I love you! I love you! I love you! My heart is literally in pieces, I’ve been an ass, and I’ll do anything to get you to forgive me!” He drops to his knees, pressing his face into your stomach as he breaks down. “I’m so sorry. I’ll understand if you pack up and leave me forever.”
The tears fall from your eyes, and your eyes slowly close as your hands find their way to Ransom’s hair, trying to calm yourself by running your fingers through it. “How do I know I can trust that, Ransom? How can I trust your word of loving me when you seemed so happy? The game didn’t mean for you to distance yourself from me… You chose to avoid me. How can I trust that you won’t break my heart?”
He buries his face deeper, hugging you closer. “I’d rather stab myself in the heart than break yours.” Ransom stands, looking down at you with puffy red eyes. “You don’t have to forgive or trust me tonight, tomorrow, a week or a month. But I will stick by your side as long as you will have me, and hopefully… Hopefully, one day you’ll take my last name.” You look up at him, breathing heavily as your mind and heart struggle with your decision. He strokes your cheek before leaning down to lean his forehead against yours, a whisper falling from his lips. “I love you, Princess. I’m always going to love you.”
“...I love you too, Ransom… Always.”
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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whitedarkmoonflower · 1 month
Text
The promise
Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female) Authors note: am I back on my angst track? yeah, probably so and I love it. Sorry 😅 Warnings: angst, hurt with very little comfort, implied sexual abuse, attempted suicide - yes it has a happy ending 😉 Summary: for his own good you wrung a promise from Sihtric that left your both hearts bleeding Word Count: 3,8 K
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"Come with me, and I'll show you the world," the wind whispered, playfully tousling your hair. You reached out as if trying to grasp the warm air swirling around you. Mischievous, it only chuckled at your futile attempt, echoing the birds' songs heralding the dawn of a new day. It tangled in the tattered remnants of your dress, gathering fallen leaves from the ground and whisking them into a wild dance before carrying them away, allowing them to cascade onto the jagged rocks below the cliff.
"I can't fly," you murmured, tilting your head and marveling at the way your fingers shimmered in the light of the rising sun. Your slender, weathered hand, adorned with blisters and scratches, suddenly appeared fragile and exquisite, almost translucent and aglow in the gentle blue and orange hues of the early sunlight.
"Don't worry, I'll catch you," the playful breeze assured, its caress gentle against your cheeks, almost imperceptible in its fleeting softness. It stirred a memory, a distant echo of tender touches long forgotten, as if they'd never existed.
You flinched at the sound of small stones loosening, merrily cascading down into the abyss, while you adjusted your weight and shuffled your bare, dirt-stained feet, as you leaned  against the rough logs of the fortress's sturdy outer wall.
"Can I trust you?" you wondered, eyes wide open, captivated by the soft hues painting the horizon.
"I'll lead you to him. Just one more step, and you'll be free," the wind enticed, its gentle laughter fading into the distance.
A silent exhale escaped your lips, swallowed by the hushed whisper of the wind. "Wait for me. I'm coming with you."
You had faithfully kept your promise, day after day, mustering the strength to carry on. Day after day of  waning hope, hope that never truly had the right to exist. Had he kept his promise? A single tear traced its path down your cheek, leaving a salty trail in its wake. Yes, he had. And that’s why you were here now, determined to finally break yours.
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"Please, let me see it," rough yet gentle fingers cradled your chin, lifting your head as they carefully swept back the strands of hair obscuring your face. 
He was too close, his breath lingering heavily upon your skin, the scent of ale from his lips wafting to your nostrils. You loved the warmth of his body, a stark contrast to your perpetually cold hands. You loved his arms enveloping your shoulders, drawing you close in an embrace, an unfailing source of comfort for you. You lived for that shy smile of his mismatched eyes, as he affectionately tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear or brushed imaginary dirt from your cheeks, too timid to touch you otherwise. 
The first time he had dared to kiss you, your breaths mingling as his lips weightlessly hovered over yours, made your heart skip a beat. But not today.
You struggled to maintain shallow breaths, attempting to alleviate the dull ache that persisted each time your lungs expanded, stretching your ribs. With eyes tightly shut, the grinding sound of your gritted teeth echoing in your ears, you sensed his fingers trembling ever so slightly as they delicately traversed the purple and blue marks around your eyes, and traced the red lines etched across your cheeks, halting at the corner of your mouth. His thumb's touch, as he sought to remove dried blood, elicited a wince, the sharp sting from the pressure on your swollen lip for a short moment overshadowing the ache in your ribs.
You had refused to cry. Not when the weighty ringed hand struck your face, sending you sprawling. Not when the coarse fingers, like iron claws, tangled in your hair and forcefully yanked your head back, the repugnant stench from the rotten, yellow-toothed mouth assaulting your senses. Not when… 
No, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you broken. Your body could bear the bruises, your body might be his, your soul and mind remained your own.
It was only later that you realised it wasn't your brokenness he had sought. It wasn't your tears he had yearned to extract.
You didn’t want to cry now either, but the tears betrayed you, burning in the corners of your eyes despite all your efforts.
"Did he do that to you?" It sounded like a question, but both of you knew the answer all too well. The pounding of your heart intensified with each passing moment. You tried to calm it, to quiet its thunderous beats, but it refused to heed your silent pleas, transforming into a tumultuous roar of war drums in your ears.
You trembled, the sensation starting deep within, a subtle quiver that steadily expanded, wresting control of your body from your grasp.
"It's my fault," a whisper reached your ears, and you snapped your eyes open, Sihtric’s  trembling voice cutting through the deafening thud of your heart.
You wanted to speak, but the words got caught in your throat, only a loud sob managing to escape through gritted teeth as you took a step back. The rough surface of the stable wall brushed against your skin through the thin layer of your ragged clothes, denying you an escape. 
You had always found solace in the scent of fresh straw, the rhythmic snorts of the animals, and the comforting warmth emanating from their bodies. This was your hidden refuge, where you sought shelter night after night. It was here that Sihtric had found you, his gaze almost passing over you until the traitorous moon slipped out from behind the clouds, revealing your presence as you held your breath in the farthest corner.
Your own weight suddenly unbearable, you sank to the ground, leaning against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around your knees as you buried your face.
"Go away," you demanded, your breath catching in your chest. You attempted to sound resolute, even angry, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you. "Please, just leave me alone," your voice cracked, morphing into a soft, pleading sob.
Sihtric’s arms hung awkwardly by his sides, his entire body tense, his fists clenched and unclenched with anger, his gaze caressing your crouched and trembling form on the ground, unsure whether he could approach you, whether he could touch you.
He had tried to protect you, to care for you, quietly and unobtrusively. Yet, in doing so, he had unwittingly become your doom. 
The sight of you shattered his heart, again. He hadn’t realised it could be broken more than once. He had believed it dead, burned by the flames that had greedily consumed the pyre, erasing the last remnants of the only person who had ever shown him kindness and love.
He had believed himself incapable of love, of caring for another, of feeling anything beyond the all consuming hatred, anger and thirst for revenge. That was all before he had met you. 
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There was something in your eyes as you glanced up at him, your dishevelled hair cascading loosely over your shoulders and falling across your smudged face, as you were towed in a line of new slaves behind the sturdy black stallion carrying Tekil.
Your hands were bound, your clothes half-torn and soiled, your bare feet stumbling as you made your way forward. He felt the urge to turn away, to hasten down from the ramparts to attend to his new master. The horse needed care, the weapons required cleaning.
You looked up, and your gazes met fleetingly, like a wounded deer gazing in terror at the encroaching predator.
But there was more than fear and despair in those deep, wide eyes. A hint of defiance mingled with resilience and a spark of life. There was such a strong will to live, a resolve to survive in those large, tearful eyes that seemed to bore into his mind, glimpsing into his very soul.
He knew the life awaiting you would shatter that resolve, break you, erase even the faintest trace of your own will, wrapping you in suffering and self-loathing like a glove wraps the hand. And he couldn't bear the thought of it. He couldn’t bear that there was nothing he could do about it. Or could he?
You lingered too long, gazing at the young boy on the upper ramparts. The sudden tug on the rope fastened to you caught you off guard, causing you to lose your balance and emit a cry of pain as your knees collided with the hard ground.
Sihtric’s hands instinctively clasped Thor's hammer around his neck, his lips forming silent words of an unspoken promise, a vow, to not let that happen, to not let that spark be wiped off. Not letting go of the pendant, he prayed to the gods for the day he could  whisk you away from this accursed place and witness a smile lighting up those beautiful eyes.
From that day forward, his seemingly futile existence had acquired a new purpose. A hesitant smile exchanged in the hallways, a warm, compassionate glance shared in the great hall, a hand that didn’t take a swing, but stretched out to help you back on your feet, that was all he dared to offer at first. 
He saw your red, swollen eyes, your diminishing frame with each passing week, the trembling of your hands as you served ale, and the deepening darkness in your gaze. It was not enough. He knew he was miserably failing to uphold the promise he had made to himself and to the gods.
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The feast in the great hall of Dunholm was in full swing. Laughter filled the room, mingling with drunken revelry, boasting of recent victories and tales of triumphs. Sihtric sat at the long table on the left, squeezed between Tekil’s men. It was his first time being permitted to join them there.
Tekil wasn't a cruel man; he was a steely, battle hardened warrior, yes, but not one who reveled in the suffering of others. He had taken Sihtric in after the execution of his mother. He had vouched for him before Kjartan, pledging to mould him into a warrior. And there Sihtric sat in his father's great hall, striving to remain unnoticed, to hide himself behind the sturdy frames of the other warriors, his fingers wrapped around the ale mug, yet hesitating to lift it to his lips.
You were in the midst of serving ale, shuddering each time a rough palm landed on your buttocks, laughter echoing through the hall as you refilled mugs and set pitchers on the tables. Sihtric's eyes tracked your movements between the tables, hastily averting his gaze each time you seemingly turned his way. As you approached his table, a sudden warmth flooded Sihtric's cheeks, his heartbeat quickening.
"I see you've taken a liking to this little bird," Sihtric nearly jumped from his seat, hearing that all too familiar voice in his ear, a heavy hand landing on his shoulder. "She's far too bony for my taste; you can have her," a sly smile curved Kjartan's lips as he turned to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you roughly closer with one swift motion.
A soft yelp trembled on your lips, causing Kjartan's smile to widen into a grin. "Come on, boy. Saddle this mare, show me you're a man. Tekil promised he'd shape you into one."
With a forceful shove from Kjartan, you stumbled into Sihtric's lap, the laughter from all sides echoing through the air, assaulting your ears. Two strong arms encircled your waist and effortlessly lifted you. Desperate to break free, you attempted to wriggle out of the grip, but the jovial laughter in the hall only grew louder as you were hoisted over a broad shoulder and carried away.
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Sihtric slammed shut the door of his tiny, windowless room, setting you down on your feet. You retreated instantly and your back collided with the solid door, eyes fixed on Sihtric, unable to quell the shaking of your limbs. By now, you knew he was Kjartan’s son—a bastard, yet his own flesh and blood, surely eager to please his father and earn his recognition.
"Please," it was barely a whisper, a silent breath trembling on your lips, your voice caught in your dried-up throat as you lowered your gaze, unwilling to appear as though you were challenging him. "Don't hurt me."
You understood your plea was likely in vain, that he didn't care. But there was nothing else you could do, so you begged, hoping to strike some hidden chord behind those large, oddly mismatched eyes that had followed you so many times.
You had thought them kind, seeking solace in them amidst the crowded hall, grounding yourself in the warmth of their gaze, clinging to the hope of having found a soul not tainted by malevolence, perhaps even a friendly one to guide you through your misery.
It had all been an illusion—a dream twisted into a nightmare, as you felt Sihtric’s rapid breath on your neck, his well built frame looming over you. "Please," you repeated, your voice trembling uncontrollably, words dissolving into soft sobs as your hands panickedly crumpled your skirt.
The terror in your voice sent a shiver down Sihtric’s spine. You saw him as the enemy. You thought him like his father—someone who relished in the suffering of others, ready to assert dominance through force for his own amusement. And he couldn’t blame you for that.  As much as he cursed the legacy running through his veins, he was who he was. His father’s son. Shame burning him from within, like that pyre fire, erasing his sweetest memories, he reached out to place his hands on your shoulders. 
"I won't hurt you. Do you hear me?" But you didn't. Panic had engulfed you entirely, the rush of blood in your ears deafening, the frantic pounding of your heart pushing you to the brink of consciousness, your senses sharpened to a painful clarity.
This was the moment the other women had warned you about, the moment they had tried to prepare you for. "Don't resist; it will only make it worse," they had told you. 
"Don't resist," their  warning echoed in your mind. But you couldn't. The moment two rough palms landed on your shoulders, you screamed, tears streaming down your cheeks as you fought in fury against them, your cries ringing through the room.
Sihtric released you instantly, hastily stepping back with his hands raised in the air, trying to show he meant no harm.
"Please, just listen to me," he pleaded, but you were too consumed by fear to register his words. Your eyes darted around the room, searching desperately for an escape, but finding none, they settled back on Sihtric. Meeting his gaze, you bared your teeth like a wild animal, your breaths coming in rapid, shallow gasps, as if preparing for a leap.
"I won't touch you," Sihtric's soft voice gently washed over your alerted senses. Why would he say that? What kind of trap was this? Thoughts fluttered through your mind like startled birds. "I… I'm not like my father. I mean you no harm, I swear," Sihtric took another step back, giving you space.
"W-what do you mean?" you stuttered, pressing yourself even harder against the door as if trying to meld with it.
"You are safe with me, I promise," Sihtric's eyes searched your face expectantly, hoping for some sign that you might consider believing him.
And oddly enough you did. Against reason, against everything you had been told and warned about, you believed him. You wanted to believe him; you had nothing left in this world to believe in, and so you chose to believe in the young man standing before you, in that warm, friendly, and inexplicably sad fire burning in his eyes.
You placed your small, cold hand in his outstretched palm, slowly and carefully, holding your breath in anticipation, your heart pounding against the cage of your ribs. He took a step closer, leaning in until his forehead touched yours.
"Please, don't be afraid of me," he whispered, his arms tentatively finding their way around your shoulders, as if afraid you would push them away again. But you didn't. You allowed yourself to melt into his strong embrace, burying your nose in Sihtric's broad chest as tears of relief soaked his leather armour.
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"Stupid boy, you didn’t even hump her," Kjartan's words struck Sihtric like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky. "The bitch was still a virgin."
Sihtric's legs turned into heavy logs, a desperate urge to flee coursing through him, yet he remained rooted to the spot under his father's scrutinising gaze. "Maybe I was mistaken and you didn't even fancy her?" Kjartan continued with a grin. "Tell me, scum, do you prefer boys instead?"
Not a muscle twitched in Sihtric's face as Kjartan's hand rested heavily on his shoulder. "No, I was right. You desire her, you crave her," his hot breath in Sihtric's ear seared him. 
"You should have heard her. A feisty little thing, squealing like a pig. You know I enjoy it when they resist. It makes it much more enjoyable," Kjartan patted him consolingly on the shoulder, a wicked smirk forming on his lips, then turned to leave. "Tekil has a task, and he's taking you with him. You're departing at dawn tomorrow. Now, go fetch your little bird and enjoy her before it's too late."
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It had all been in vain. Those hidden lingering glances, those fleeting touches, those stolen kisses in the secluded corners of the kitchen away from prying eyes—they all amounted to nothing. He had failed to protect you, to shield you from harm. Instead, he had inadvertently brought about your downfall, as he hadn’t managed to hide how much you mattered to him.
"Go away," you cried out once more, lifting your head to meet his gaze. The pain in his large, searching eyes squeezed your racing heart, prompting you to quickly look away. You didn't blame him; he was the sole reason your existence in this place had felt somewhat bearable. But it was all too much. Your own pain was enough, and you couldn't bear to add his to the burden.
"I can't," a throaty whisper escaped his lips as he lowered himself to the ground, aligning his height with yours, and gently crouched by your side. You shuddered at the touch of his arms around your trembling frame, yet you couldn't muster the strength to push him away.
You sat in the moonlight, surrounded by eerie shadows that danced around you each time an impish cloud attempted to obscure the large, pale disc in the dark sky. No words were needed; the enveloping silence spoke volumes, conveying more than any sound ever could.
"I'm leaving tomorrow at dawn," Sihtric's hoarse voice seemed to come from another world, and you heart stopped beating. The darkness crept from the corners, slowly enveloping you, draining the remaining colours from your life. "Tekil is taking me with him. It’s going to be a long trip, not just an ordinary patrol."
Turning your head, you reached out and cupped his face, your thumb gliding over his wet cheeks as Sihtric leaned into your touch.
"Promise me something," you whispered, summoning strength you didn't know you possessed.
"I will come back to you, I swear. I'll return, and one day I'll take you away from here," Sihtric's hand found yours, pulling your palm to his lips where he placed tender kisses upon your wrist.
"No," you vehemently shook your head. "No, this is your chance, Sihtric. Promise me you will not return. Promise me you'll do everything in your power to escape, to leave this cursed place behind and never look back. Promise me," your voice grew louder, your eyes searching his. "Promise me!" you demanded, desperation creeping into your tone.
"What? I... I can't... Don't you see it? Don't you feel it? I love you. Do you understand what you're asking of me?"
"I know. And God is my witness, I love you too. But if you love me, you'll promise me this. And you'll keep that promise, Sihtric Kjartansson. Knowing that you have a chance for a new life away from this hell on earth is the only thing that will keep me alive," your voice quivered with excitement.
Will he miss me? Will he remember me? You bit down on your tongue, forbidding yourself from voicing these questions that swirled in your mind. You had to let go. You had to set him free. This was the only way, the only chance, at least for one of you.
"Promise me," you insisted, your gaze locked with Sihtric's, glowing with a hint of madness.
"I'll give you that promise, if you swear to keep waiting. If you swear to not give up on this life," Sihtric's fingers squeezed yours painfully.
"I promise to keep waiting for you never coming back," you pledged without a moment's hesitation. "I promise to carry on, to endure. For you."
"I promise," Sihtric's voice broke as he tried to speak the next words, but your expectant, feverish gaze compelled him to continue. "Then I promise not to come back."
"Swear it," you demanded, wrapping his fingers around the pendant on his neck.
"I swear," it was barely a whisper, just a silent breath, escaping his lips as he gave the oath that was breaking his heart. He pulled you into his embrace, lips nuzzling your hair, inhaling your scent and feeling your soft skin under his fingertips, as he tried to store it all in his memory forever, not feeling ashamed for the tears trailing down his cheeks and disappearing into your dishevelled hair.
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Weird sounds emanating from within the fortress drew your attention away from your memories—men shouting and hounds howling. You covered your ears with both hands, attempting to stifle the daunting sounds. It wasn't the first time Kjartan entertained himself by setting his hellhounds on some poor soul who had earned his wrath.
It was time. You were ready. Straightening yourself, you parted from the rough, grounding wall behind your back.
"One step, just one more step into freedom," you whispered to yourself, closing your eyes.
You shuddered upon hearing your name being called, the sound reaching you from the other side of the wall, oddly familiar. No, it couldn't be. You shook your head in an attempt to dispel the illusion your mind was conjuring to confuse you.
With eyes closed, you raised your foot for your last step, feeling the ground disappearing from beneath you, ready to fly away, to trust the alluring promise of the wind you knew to be insidious.
You cried out in despair as you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back. Eyes still shut, you fought against them, believing Kjartan’s men had found you, until a soft voice from your dreams spoke your name again, causing you to finally open your eyes wide with disbelief and fear as if seeing a ghost.
“Why did you break your promise?” was all you managed to whisper.
“To prevent you from breaking yours,” two mismatched eyes sadly smiled at you. “Kjartan is dead. You are free.”
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Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07 @mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw @siimonesvensson @sigtryggrswifey
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lionlena · 11 months
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We don't love each other (PedroPascalxreader) angst! Part II
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A/N: I can't believe I wrote ANGST. It breaks my heart. All because of this one gif. In my imagination, Tyler looks like Tyler Hoechlin.
Summary:  You and Pedro are: friends with benefits, for many years. Your layout is simple and clear. You don't love each other. You're friends on a daily basis, you take care of each other... Sometimes you sleep together. You go on dates with other men and Pedro doesn't mind. Everything is simple until you accidentally hear Oscar say that Pedro loves you. Then you decide to tell him the truth and you ruin everything.
Warnings: angst!!! smut, mentions of sex, friends with benefits, sad, broken hearts, age difference (reader is 15 years younger than Pedro)
A/N: This part is shorter and please... Don't be angry. I know some of you want a happy ending and I promise you will get it, but not yet.
*
Part II
It is said that mourning has 5 stages. Of course you knew Pedro was alive, but you felt you had lost him forever. So you started going through each stage one by one.
1. Denial
That's what you felt right after the fight with Pedro, when you cried alone. You didn't believe what he said. He was just drunk and didn't mean it at all. It was the alcohol fault.
You knew it was a lie. You've seen him drunk many times. He was the type to just get sleepy and cuddle more. He was never aggressive and was always aware of what he was saying.
2. Anger
You felt it as soon as you entered the house. You threw your suitcase furiously against the wall and started screaming.
How the fuck was he dare acting like this?! Fucking selfish. His age argument was ridiculous. The difference between the two of you wasn't that large. You were an adult. Damn, you were a mature woman! Leave that point for Leonardo!
And his fucking fame! There have been times in the past that your photos have appeared on gossip sites. You didn't care too much about it. But maybe it was him, he didn't want to ruin his image with someone like you.
3. Bargaining
Once you had calmed down, you sat down on the couch and while you drank another glass of wine, you began to analyze everything. It didn't have to be the end. You don't have to love him and he doesn't have to love you. You can still be friends without sex... Or with sex. Sometimes. Once a year. For so many years your system has been running like a well-oiled machine. You can still undo everything, right? If only you'd stayed at the door a few minutes more. If you had heard Pedro's whole conversation with Oscar.
4. Depression
You decided to spend all your holiday crying. For three days you lay on the couch and hardly moved. A pile of used tissues has gathered around you. There were two empty wine bottles and an ice cream wrapper under the table. There was a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. But you really didn't care. You wanted to disappear. Just turn to dust like the people in "Avengers: Infinity War" after Thanos snapped his fingers.
You remembered how you made Pedro watch all the Marvel movies with you. He was teasing you so much about your crush on Captain America.
"You'll see, one day, I'll deliberately star in some movie with Chris Evans  to make you die of envy!"
Another loud sob escaped your lips. You were about to hide under the blanket when the doorbell rang. You were surprised. You didn't order food, you didn't wait for anyone... Your heart jumped like crazy.
It's Pedro! Of course "your" Pedro would come to you eventually. You quickly ran to open the door and your heart dropped to your feet.
"Ty?"
"Hey, Y/N." Your ex-boyfriend looked worried at you. "Can I go in?"
You were so shocked that you just shrugged and let him in. You sat on the couch and watched Tyler. The man scanned your living room and finally sat down on the coffee table, across from you.
"Y/N are you okay?"
You swallowed the lump in your throat. You just didn't believe it was Tyler. And of course he had to be nice and worry about you. What did you expect? You've been together for seven fucking months.
"What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to apologize to you."
You raised your eyebrows in surprise. You were even more surprised when Tyler grabbed your hands.
"I understand that my proposal might have overwhelmed you. I shouldn't have done it like this. You had the right to feel pressured. I'm so sorry Y/N. I would have come earlier if I had known you were suffering so much."
One sec! Tyler thought your current state was the result of breaking off an engagement. Oh shit! Did he really have to pick the worst moment of your life? You felt like someone hit you on the head, with a hammer.
"Yes?" you asked with weak voice.
"Yes, baby. I'm not angry anymore. I missed you so much."
"Yes?"
Your brain has really stopped working. Tyler unfortunately found it cute and chuckled slightly.
"Yes! We've had so many wonderful moments. How about starting over? Slower this time. Maybe instead of getting engaged, you'd agree to move in together. But I'm not pushing. No pressure this time."
You nodded your head and just like that you were pushed into stage 5: acceptance.
You've lost Pedro. He will never come back to you. You couldn't turn Tyler down again. You had to come to terms with the idea that you would end up with someone you couldn't love. For the rest of your life. At least you won't be alone.
With Tyler's help, you cleaned the apartment and agreed to go for a walk with him because he said the fresh air would do you good. As you walked down the street with him and holding his hand, you still felt a huge emptiness in your chest. That's when you realized you'd never make it to Stage 5. You'd stay "depressed" forever.
*
(Pedro pov )
1. Denial
As Pedro stood on the beach and watched your taxi vanish into the horizon, he just couldn't believe it. All night he denied everything. It didn't happen. He misunderstood you. You didn't mean it. You were drunk. Only he knew you and knew you were serious. Both about loving him and about to leave you alone.
2. Anger
He wiped his tears furiously. Why did he have to be so stupid?! Why did he have to screw everything up? He didn't want to yell at you, he didn't want to break your heart, and most of all, he didn't want you to leave. And at the same time, he had enough. He hated every guy he had to share your lips with. He hated it when you came back to him for another dose of love. For years he told himself he could handle it. That it's better in this way. You didn't love him and you deserved someone better.
He was so consumed with anger that he didn't notice Oscar standing beside him. Well, his friend really had no timing.
"Hey man, what happened?"
Pedro glared at him angrily.
"It just fucking happened that you had to pick the worst possible day to talk about morality!"
"Whoa, slow down!"
Oscar held his hands up, but Pedro continued to press against him.
"Y/N overheard us! She came to me at night and confessed that she loved me, and I..." His voice broke. "I yelled at her... I told her I didn't want to love her..."
"Then why the fuck are you mad at me?! Remember what I told you when I  discovered you have agreement with her?"
"That it's sick and we're both going to suffer."
"Exactly! And now you're standing here taking your anger out on me. I didn't come up with this! You guys got yourself into this. It's not my fault you don't know what you want. How I was supposed to know she loved you... Ok, sometimes I suspected it, but..." Oscar sighed heavily as he saw his friend crying. He pulled Pedro into a hug. "I'm sorry. I know you're hurting, but maybe it's better this way."
Pedro clenched his hands on Oscar's shirt.
"I want her back," he mumbled.
3. Bargaining
Pedro couldn't just stay with the others and keep playing. He apologized to everyone, explaining the sudden need to shoot some scenes for The Mandalorian. Only Oscar and Sarah knew the truth.
When he got to his apartment, he was still analyzing everything. After all, he could still fix everything. You two will go back to your old layout. Eventually you'll realize that you don't love him. He will be able to have a part of you again. He will suffer and he will listen to Oscar's lectures again, but at least his heart will not be so empty.
After three days, he made a decision. He grabbed his car keys and cell phone and decided to go to your place. He parked near your apartment and was about to leave when he saw Tyler come out. You were right behind him. Your ex reached out to you. You smiled slightly and grabbed his hand. He realized that apparently you two are together again. And he hated him. Hated Tyler's square jaw, chiseled stomach, biceps... And he hated himself for being such a pathetic pup who lay down at your feet.
4. Depression
He spent the rest of the day sitting on the couch drinking beer and looking at pictures of you together. He felt as if someone had ripped his heart out of his chest. He had years to tell you the truth and he wasted it. So many times he could have tried to change something, but he was too late. He lost you and he was never going to accept that.
* Amor fugado,
( Run away love,)
Me tomas, me dejas, me exprimes, y me tiras a un lado
(You take me, you leave me, you squeeze me and throw me aside)
Te vas a otro cielo y regresas como los colibrís
(You go to another heaven and come back like the hummingbirds)
Me tienes como un perro a tus pies.
(You have me like a dog at your feet)
Labios compartidos, labios divididos
(Shared lips, divided lips,)
(mi amor)
Yo no puedo compartir tus labios
(I can’t share your lips)
Y comparto el engaño y comparto mis días y el dolor
(That I share the deceive and I share my days and the pain)
Ya no puedo compartir tus labios
(I can’t share your lips)
Oh amor, oh amor, compartido
(Oh love, oh shared love)
Mana - Labios Compartidos
@creedslove​ I probably listened this song a hundred times while writing Pedro pov <3
Part I
Part III
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boohaitani · 11 months
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my baseball nerd | miyuki kazuya x reader
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summary: in which kazuya is just being the baseball nerd he is
word count: about 500
just fluff <33
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The sound of the television filled the room as Kazuya sat on the couch, his eyes glued to the baseball game playing out on the screen. Y/N joined him, curious about the intensity in his gaze as he watched every pitch and analyzed every play.
"Kazuya, you're such a baseball nerd," she teased, nudging him playfully.
He turned to her with a mischievous smile, not taking his eyes off the game. "Well, Y/N, it's not every day you get to witness the brilliance of the game firsthand. There's so much strategy, technique, and skill involved. It's fascinating."
Y/N chuckled, leaning closer to him. "I'll never understand your obsession with baseball, but I do love seeing your passion for it. You light up when you talk about the game."
Kazuya's eyes twinkled with excitement. "It's more than just a game, Y/N. It's a beautiful dance between the pitcher and the batter, a battle of wits and athleticism. Each pitch holds the potential for greatness or disappointment. And as a catcher, I get a front-row seat to all of it."
Y/N leaned back against the couch, crossing her arms playfully. "I suppose I should consider myself lucky to have a baseball nerd for a boyfriend. At least you'll always have something to talk about."
Kazuya's grin widened as he turned to her, his eyes filled with enthusiasm. "Oh, Y/N, you have no idea. I could talk about baseball for hours. The strategies, the statistics, the rivalries—it's endless. And I won't hesitate to educate you on the intricacies of the game."
She rolled her eyes, feigning exasperation. "Please, spare me the baseball lectures. I might just fall asleep."
He pretended to be offended, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Fall asleep? My passionate discussions about baseball are riveting, Y/N. I promise you won't be able to tear your eyes away."
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Alright, Kazuya, I'll humor you. Just don't be too disappointed when I start daydreaming about other things."
He feigned shock, his eyes widening. "How dare you? Baseball should be the only thing occupying your mind at all times!"
Their banter continued throughout the game, with Kazuya passionately explaining various plays and Y/N playfully teasing him about his obsession. It was a familiar dance between them, a playful back-and-forth that brought joy and laughter to their relationship.
As the game reached its climax, Kazuya's excitement grew, his eyes never leaving the screen. Y/N watched him, marveling at his childlike enthusiasm and unwavering dedication to the sport he loved.
"You know," she said, breaking the playful banter for a moment, "your passion for baseball is one of the things I love about you. It's a part of who you are, and I wouldn't change it for the world."
Kazuya turned to her, a soft smile on his face. "And your acceptance of my baseball nerdiness is one of the things I love about you. You embrace all parts of me, even the ones that might seem a little strange."
Y/N leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Well, someone has to keep you grounded, right?"
He chuckled, his eyes still glinting with excitement. "I suppose you're right. And who knows, maybe one day you'll find yourself caught up in the magic of baseball too."
Y/N grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Never say never, Kazuya. With you by my side, anything is possible."
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manidk1273 · 24 days
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🎀 • Genius
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My current favourite game is Honkai Starrail and my current hyperfixation is Marvel, I've always wanted a fanfic or maybe even one shot of Tony meeting one of the genius society members and I couldn't find one so I'll take matters into my own hand.
This is Tony Stark x Ruan Mei!Reader
He's used to him being the smartest in the room, he really is. Being arguably the smartest man to currently be alive really fed this man's ego. But one day, whilst on a mission in space the avengers met you, You had your own name yet people call you as Ruan Mei. Genius Society member #81. Nick Fury and Stephen Strange knew so little about the Genius Society but they knew it was real. So they were just.. amazed when they met you. Every Avenger was. Except for Tony. He was pissed. He wasn't used to being below someone. He wasn't used to having someone being the smarter one.
You weren't an official Avenger but you did come to earth every now and then to visit, and sometimes even helping them with their missions. Needless to say, whenever you helped the mission never lasted more than a day. One thing that was also strange about you is that you NEVER showed emotion. No one knew why and no one dared to ask. It took Tony a few months to actually even 20% accept you were the smarter one.
Though, what made him realize he was in love with you is the day you tried your favorite food on earth. The Avengers decided to have a dinner out and you were on time with your visit. You never tasted anything like it and for the first time ever, you smiled. Giggled and blushed even. You were so amazed, it tastes so good. Tony hated himself for feeling his stomach flip when he saw you smile. He hated the feeling of his cheeks heating up at your precious smile.
Even though he hated himself for it.. he found himself buying your favourite food whenever you visited earth. He didn't stop at food, no, He even set up a movie marathon with the Avengers and you to know your favourite movie. When you did find your favourite movie you once again smiled and giggled at the funny scenes and showed emotion. God, he was falling. And he was falling hard. It was so obvious he was, but you were oblivious since you never felt love before. It didn't matter if you were there or no, Tony was constantly teased.(By Natasha and Thor mostly.) He was so relieved when you didn't understand the situation because he didn't want to be embarrassed.
☆ —⁠ DATING PHASE
You started to visit Earth more. You never got tired of Tony's methods of flirting with you, though you couldn't physically show it. Tony was the only thing (excluding your favorite movie and food) that could make you laugh, smile, giggle.. moan.
When you tried your first time with him, you were nervous but your body refused to show it. He was gentle with you.. so gentle. He made sure to ask you every now and then, when you two finally got used to it you fell in love with the pleasure.. the feeling of him thrusting into you. The feeling of his big, fat, long cock filling you up.
It actually took Tony more than 2 months into the relationship to admit his biggest regret with you; you don't show emotions that well. He didn't know if you were angry, happy, sad, annoyed.. you found out when he was drinking with Rogers and some other Avengers. You didn't know what came over you. You just returned back to your shared room and started sobbing. It was a new feeling to you. Once F.R.I.D.A.Y notified Tony that something was happening with you Tony immediately sent the Avengers home and went to the room to see you sobbing. His heart dropped. He never saw you sad before, so seeing you straight up sobbing broke his heart into millions, if not trillions of little pieces.
Before he could say anything you immediately apologize in-between tears. You didn't do anything, and he was confused but he knew you were upset and he wanted to comfort you. Once you calm down, you explain everything to him and his heart breaks more. He apologizes for not telling your directly and hugs you. (Cuddles and kisses for you to fall asleep<3.)
No tragedy happened, thanks to you. When Tony explained the situation with Thanos and the infinity stones though it wasn't exactly her business she agreed to help. Being the genius she is, you outsmarted Thanos and you created a realm where the stones were placed. No one could enter unless they were someone who knew you since you were the only one that can open a portal to the realm.
(Ruan Mei created her very own planet, so don't tell me she can't create her own realm 😭)
Life was great, really. After Tony proposed and you found out you were pregnant, you backed down from the genius society. To your family. They didn't mind you were mostly emotionless because they already know you aren't. Your body just has a hard time showing emotions. When you have birth to your child, you hold the tiny life in your hands. You cried. But you didn't cry of tears of sadness, yet happiness. You made this masterpiece with Tony. You're official parents now.
Out of all the creations you and Tony ever made, your guys child was the best of all. Out of all the titles you guys held.. your proudest ever title is husband and wife, and parents.
I wasn't exactly posting this but I figured I'd try to post daily (if I have the time) I hope you enjoyed this one, I'm not the best at writing or slow burn but I'll try to write more so I can improve my writing skills. English isn't my first language so forgive me if there are any grammatical mistakes.
Thank you for reaching the end, Have a wonderful day<3
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lovelyinspiration1463 · 6 months
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Loki S2 E3 Spoilers Ahead!
My thoughts while watching the episode for the first time:
Is that him as a kid?
I considered for a hot second that Loki might be that horse.
There is never a moment too dire for Mobius to grab a snack, and I relate to that on a deep and personal level.
Boy, Marvel will do anything to plaster their name on screen as much as possible.
*science mumbo jumbo*
I think this variant has gotten himself electrocuted one too many times. 
I wouldn’t be standing right in front of that, my dude.
Well, yeah, now he’s giving off more ‘take over the world’ vibes. Proper Frankenstein over here.
Prototype? Yeah, no kidding. That thing let off a few bright sparks and then just died.
Mustache guy looked so scandalized, I can’t  😭😭😭
“Hornswoggler”? That is my new favorite word.
Is that an offer or a threat? Sounds more like a threat.
Where can I get myself a guy who will pass out money at the snap of my fingers???
I know it’s loud in there, but is no one else hearing the talking purse?
Nice cover, Mobius.
Oop. Old hornswoggler is back and wants a refund. I’m shocked. The machine looked so impressive just… fizzling the way that it did.
This has very quickly become a Charlie Chaplin sketch.
Okay, first of all, Mullet Hair, can you chill??? Killing the same dude over and over and over again is not gonna secure free will for people! Can we discuss? For even just a millisecond?! Are we able to think through our actions?
He ruined your life? Listen here, Sylvie; while you’ve been living it up at McDonalds, the universe has been falling apart! Think outside yourself for two seconds!
His face! 💀💀💀
Are these two seriously having a moment? Cease and desist immediately.
“A long time ago-“ in a galaxy far, far away. No, wait; wrong franchise.
That’s your biggest takeaway? Seriously?
“Rat bags”? Mustache Man is just full of zingers!
Did Loki literally just run in a circle??
Ooh, Miss Minutes is a bit snappy. She really wants everyone to know how clever she is.
Oh my gosh, they are not cramming another slapdash love story into the show 😫 I do not care about this! I came here to see Loki! Every second he’s not on screen, a little part of me dies…
Miss Minutes in the background: 😞
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
I have a feeling Renslayer is suddenly gonna be much more amenable to joining Loki and Mobius now.
All those mannequins are so creepy. 
A Rolodex? That’s his life’s work?
Okay… this just got weird on so many levels. 
OKAY THIS JUST GOT SUPER WEIRD! 🚩‼️🚨 IF SHE POSSESSES ONE OF THOSE MANNEQUINS I AM SO OUTTA HERE
🎶 People always told me, be careful of what you do, don't go around breaking young girls' hearts. And mother always told me, be careful of who you love.  And be careful of what you do, ‘cause the lie becomes the truth - hey hey!🎶
Dude, how did she even get here?
*dramatic entrance at the perfect time*
Mobius, look at her! I don’t think Ravonna is in the best headspace rn.
How many people are gonna barge in here??? Does he have any security at all? Even a single lock?
Also, are we really doing this again? This episode is bloated with will they/won’t they moments. It’s a “won’t” from me. I’ve decided.
The hair! 😍💯
So is Loki just gonna lie there and watch, or…?
So everyone gets free will but him? How do you know he won’t make better choices? He can’t be the one singular person in all of existence that is fated to be something specific!
Okay now I’m starting to feel a little bad for him.
“I can make my own choices.” That’s what I’m saying!
Who put Sylvie in charge? I’m sorry, but last time I checked, Loki doesn’t answer to you!
Seriously? You’re just abandoning her there??? Murder was a bad thing two seconds ago and now you’re both chill about it?
Aww, poor Sylvie. She really is the greatest victim in all this. How dare she be forced to decide to obsess over something 🙄
Yeah, I’m not sure sticking the two of them together is a good idea. I mean technically he’s dead, but what has that ever meant in the MCU?
Oooh, never mind - he’s dead dead. …Well, even so. Loki’s come back from worse.
Can any of these characters just pick a side?! Stop betraying each other so often; I can’t keep up! Who’s working with who???
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holdmytesseract · 1 year
Note
the music in question was playing as i read the celebration announcement so then gave me an idea
Much angst so i again apologize
'So, Before you go. Was there something I could have said...' Before you go by Lewis Capaldi with our darling Tom as the victim of this sad composition
Sorry....
Anyway again Congratulations on the milestone and heres to more 🎉☺💚
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a/n: Since it's Tommy's birthday today, I thought I am going to post this drabble. 🥳 I know, it's actually quite a sad drabble, but... I hope you guys like it anyway... ☺️🙈
Thanks for requesting, @stupidthoughtsinwriting ! I loved, loved, loved writing this! I hope you like it! 🥺❤
Warnings: angst... This is very sad... talks of breaking up
Word Count: 777
Tagging: @lokisgoodgirl @lovingchoices14 @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @acefeather2002 @lulubelle814 @vbecker10 @fictive-sl0th @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbs @kimanne723 @simping-for-marvel @coldnique
Lyric-Drabble-Mania Masterlist
Based on this song:
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Too Late
"Y/N, please..." Tom's broken voice urged to your ears, still causing a shiver to run down your spine. "Don't go." You knew he tried to persuade you to stay - and who could blame him for that? It was a natural reaction. The most people in Tom's situation would do that. You shook your head, still throwing the last few pieces of your clothes in the suitcase. "I can't stay, Tom." "Please, darling." His hand reached out to gently touch your shoulder. A gesture you once loved and adored so much. Not anymore. Immediately, you pulled away from his touch and turned around to face him. "Don't, Tom... Just don't." The man sighed, tears starting to pool in those oceanic blue eyes of his. Oh no... Don't you dare pull that card, Thomas, you thought. "I-I'm sorry, Y/N. I just don't want you to leave." You took a deep breath. You needed to stay strong, not giving in. You gave in way too often. It had to stop. "Again, Thomas... I can't. And I won't. It's too late." The Brit shook his head, the long blonde-brown curls swinging with the movement. "No, don't say that. You once said to me it's never too late." "Well, yes, but this time it really is too late." You said, zipping up your suitcase and lifting it on the carpeted floor in Tom's and once your bedroom, which held so many beautiful memories. Memories, which hurt you deeply now, leaving scars on your heart.
You swallowed hard, went for the door, but Tom stopped you, gently wrapping his arm around your wrist. "I-I need you to stay, I beg you. H-How am I supposed to live without you?" Stay strong, Y/N... Stay strong. "You have to." Tom was visibly desperate now; on the edge of despair. "I can't. You and I both know that I can't. My heart belongs to you, Y/N. It always had, always does, always will. I'm yours. Forever. You locked my heart and threw away the keys." In another time and another situation, you'd have found Tom's words absolutely heart melting and hopelessly romantic - but that wasn't the case. Instead, you rather found them quite accusing and offending. "What do you want to say with that, huh? That this all is my fault and I'm the one to blame that our relationship didn't work out?!" You snapped, snorting out a laugh. "That's ridiculous, Thomas." Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, Y/N, no... That's... That's not what I meant, I..." He groaned, losing his nerves slowly but surely as well. "Fuck's sake... All I wanted to say is, that I still love you... With all my heart." He didn't get it, did he? It was over, but he just didn't get it. You snorted out another breath. This time in annoyance. "Tom, don't you see?" You started, losing it now. "Look around you!" You underlined your words by gesturing around the room. "This is a mess... A wasteland! We are walking on broken glass for months now!" You were positively yelling now. You just couldn't stand it anymore. "We sailed past the last harbour months ago; ignoring several stop signs! We tried and tried and tried to safe this, but..." You swallowed, felt the tears welling up inside your eyes as well. "There's nothing to be saved - and you know that. You know that very well. Just like I do. Now please, let me go."
Tom said nothing, was way too stunned and emotionally hit, that he just wasn't able to say something. So, his hand let go of your wrist; his feet moved in order to let you pass. Silence fell upon the room, when you walked past him and out of the door - until Tom broke it again. "Before you go... Was there something I could've said to make your heart beat better? To make it all stop hurting?" His words hit you like a truck. You immediately stopped in your movements, literally freezing to the ground. You felt like you couldn't breathe; having lost the ability to speak. It hurt. So much, that you literally could feel how your heart started to bleed. All you could do, was silently cry; feeling the hot tears run down your cheek, staining your blouse and blurring your vision. It took you an eternity to get yourself somehow halfway together and giving Tom an answer. "No..." You started; voice shaky. "Sometimes, love is just not enough." With those words, you forced your legs to move forwards. You had to get out of here, immediately, before your heart would shatter into a million pieces.
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sezja · 5 months
Note
50 (punctual) for the twine boys
One Word Writing Prompts (still accepting)
The sky overhead turns glorious shades of orange and violet, which Thaffe recognizes - through some soul-deep memory, dimly recalled - as a sunset. He pauses in his work, gazing skyward. It sets his heart to racing: sunset means night, the unfamiliar blanket of darkness which had settled over Amh Araeng only yesterday, after over a hundred years of Light. It had emerged wholecloth the night before, after the slaying of the Lightwarden, but tonight...
Tonight he'll get to watch night fall properly.
Or perhaps not, he thinks, catching sight of Jeryk dashing toward the trolley tracks as quickly as his legs will carry him. What is he up to? It wouldn't be the first time the man's worked through the late hours on some project or other... but that was when there was always ample light to be had. With night, true night, falling soon, there's no telling what trouble Jeryk might get himself into.
And he's been acting odd since they'd gotten the Talos up and moving again. Thaffe doesn't know what's gotten into him, but it doesn't seem wise to leave him unattended for long.
He glances at the sky again, then sighs. Dammit, Jeryk.
The shadows are already deepening as he sets off down the tracks; he keeps his eyes on his feet, careful not to misstep in the unfamiliar darkness. He recalls Jeryk's breakneck sprint and grits his teeth - he'd be a lot more worried about it if Jeryk hadn't been dashing across the tracks, heedless of the risk of falling or snapping a leg, since he could walk. He expects the regular pattern of the ties comes as naturally to Jeryk as flight comes to a bird.
"There you are," he says, nearly bumping into the smaller hume in his concentration; Jeryk spares him half a glance. "What are you-"
"It should just about be time," Jeryk says, gazing up... not at the sky, like any normal person, but at one of the lanterns hanging alongside the tracks.
Thaffe blinks at it, as though he'd forgotten the things existed - for all they've been keeping the tracks and equipment in something like working order these past few years, he hadn't thought to consider the lanterns. Who would? Who had need of lanterns in a world drowning in Light? In times long past, he supposes, many of the miners of Twine would have headed home from the mines either in the dark hours of the morning or just after sundown, and they'd have welcomed the lights along the tracks leading the way home...
True darkness settles over them, broken only by the stars overhead. Beside him, Thaffe hears Jeryk draw in a breath and hold it.
The lantern flickers.
And lights.
All along the track, the old lanterns blaze to life, a lifeline between Twine and the mines.
Jeryk lets out the breath in a cheer, practically applauding; Thaffe reaches a hand out to steady him, resting a hand against Jeryk's back - but his own heart leaps in unexpected celebration, kindled alongside that little lantern.
It's a little piece of Twine, back from the dead.
"Right on time," Jeryk says, smacking the lantern post almost affectionately. "Just like they did before the Flood!"
"You've been repairing them," Thaffe guesses, marveling. "How did you even think to start?"
"When night came to Lakeland." Still gazing up at the lantern, Jeryk leans into him, and Thaffe welcomes it, winding an arm around the shorter man's shoulders. The night comes with the same chill as ever, and Jeryk's excitement gives off a warmth all its own. "I thought... wouldn't it be something if the Warrior of Darkness made their way here, too?"
He hadn't dared hope. A lot of things have happened in the past couple of days that Thaffe hadn't dared hope for.
"Good thinking." He gives Jeryk a little squeeze. "And now I won't have to fear breaking my neck chasing after you down the tracks at night."
Unrepentant, Jeryk grins, pecking Thaffe on the cheek with an unapologetic kiss. "I wanted to make sure the lanterns lit on time, that's all. We can run the trolley at night! What's more exciting than a trolley ride under the stars-"
"Some other time." Thaffe steers Jeryk homeward. "I've had enough excitement for a few days."
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rudikawhy · 7 months
Text
Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Season Three
Just like I did with season two, I took some notes while watching season three.
There are spoilers, but since I've marked when a new episode starts, you could just skip those you haven't seen yet. If there are any.
(S03 E01) I feel you, Coulson. It's hard for me too to get used to calling her Daisy
"He looks big and intimidating. But inside, he's just a soft, little, fluffy little teddy bear."
It must be so tough, knowing you can't go back to your own life
I was waiting for them to mention that Simmons has been swallowed (15 minutes)
Glad that Bobbi's back at work tho.
What's your mission, Fitz!?
"One last thing" what does that mean!?
I loooove sassy Fitz. "Hey, wait. Ah. I want to see Yusef. You understand? Or is your English worse than you think?"
Why doesn't Hunter talk to Bobbi now?
How dare you touch Fitz!
Is it just me or does Iain sound here more scottish than in season two?
I would like to have Fitz as my hero
This "monster" that appears at the hospital looks pretty creepy
And now, Fitz can also read Hebrew. What can't he do?
I love that both Jemma and Elizabeth are from Sheffield
No, don't accept it yet! This is Marvel, of course Jemma isn't dead
Fitz continues to break my heart (DO SOMETHING!!)
What the hell is happening there? Wherever Jemma is
(S03 E02) "In all of history, no one has ever returned" well maybe it's time someone does. Jemma, would you be so kind?
Okay, that was close, pulling Fitz away from that thing
I really love soft Bobbi
"So you think the Rock is a portal?" "No. No, I'm proving that it's a portal." I like confident Fitz (I also like self-conscious Fitz. I like Fitz in general)
"... and a Sandwich would be nice" Mood
Fitz would do any- and everything for Jemma, wouldn't he?
I'm confused by Bobbi and Hunter's relationship
"Don't die out there" I love that they keep saying that
If Hunter is looking for Ward at Hydra and Ward built his own team, than Hunter won't find anything, will he?
Coulson doesn’t open the portal just for ONE life. It's Jemma's life
"A lot of speculation back at HQ as to why you went AWOL. Spiritual walkabout. Mid-life crisis. EARLY mid-life crisis" Saved last second, Hunter
What the HELL do you think you're doing, Fitz!!!?
Why does it hurt so much more when they are inaudible?
Also my heart started beating so loudly
Fitz smiles! For the first time in what? One season?
I absolutely LOVE Hunter's reaction "Fitz, you absolute beauty!"
First Hunter sleeping by Bobbi's bed, and now Fitz by Jemma's bed - I love them
(S03 E03)
Jemma doesn't look too good
I, too, would be creeped out if someone put a tracker on me
I like Hunter
Fitz taking Jemma's hand is just the beginning of cuteness I expect from them
"Besides, she knows I'm lying, so it's not even really a lie." What kind of logic is that?
Did I mention that I love Bobbi? The way she speaks to Fitz
Would you mind leaving Hunter alone? I mean I know he kinda signed up for this but still
How is it that even when Fitzsimmons get to go to the restaurant where Fitz was holding the reservation for MONTHS, they manage to hurt my heart?
Does Hunter really want to meet Ward in this condition?
Why would you have to go back there, Jemma?
(S03 E04) The guy in the first scene who died kinda looked like Lee from the Kissing Booth
I can't make really sense of Coulson, what's his plan with this "cooperation"
Hunter calling May first "love" and then "mum" is just brilliant
"It's tough when people keep things from you" is Fitz referring to the beginning of Season two or to the present when he doesn't know what Jemma plans with the folder?
"Sorry, this coming from the guy who shot his own girlfriend by mistake?" Sassy Hunter is cool Hunter
Sooo, I have a feeling May's gonna kill Hunter after what happened to Andrew.
"It's time I told you the truth about everything" is "Something happened to me, Fitz, on the other side" already the truth about everything or does she simply not tell US the truth?
(S03 E05) Why is Jemma running, though? She has no destination
Note for myself: always charge your phone. Just in case you get swallowed by a monolith and you need to update your file of research and take pictures
It looks so cold there
Her talking about the restaurant to herself is too cute
I don't want to know how clean that water is
Where did she get the bathing suit from?
Okay, I see now, it's not a bathing suit
"You're dinner, biatch" Fitz and her ARE really the same
"Everyone always said we could read each other's minds, Fitz. So I really need you to read mine right now."
You're telling me she only had one picture of Fitz on her phone?
"I know you won't give up, so I won't, either"
Whatever this magic phone battery is, I need it! One month and it still works (or maybe I just need a Fitz in my life, not only for the phone battery)
"You wouldn't happen to have any alcohol, would you, Will?" - "Yeah, I'll run down to the drugstore and get it for you." - "Would you, please? If it's not too much trouble." I don't know if Jemma doesn't understand his sarcasm or just replies with own sarcasm
Is this just going to be a whole episode of Jemma on that planet?
"His name is like your favorite word" you're not wrong
Oh, that's the scene from the end of S03 E01
And Will's the reason Jemma needs to get back. That makes so much sense
You said you wouldn't give up hope
I know it's not really cheating but still, JEMMA!?
What was I saying? Fitz would do really anything for Jemma, even get Will back
(S03 E06) Why take Hunter (who does it for revenge) off a task and put May (who does it also for revenge) on it?
I never would have thought that May couldn't think clear
"You're not gonna say the thing?" That's exactly what I thought that moment. 'We don't get a "Don't die out there" this time?'
But Hunter, it's more than just keeping Simmons warm with a fire. She honestly couldn't have survived without him.
What language does Bobbi Not speak?
I'm always impressed how good they all can improvise
May smiling is just wrong
"Now we use the new dwarf Fitz crafted. He doesn't think it's ready yet, but that's stupid because it's awesome, so I stole it" isn't that with most things Fitz crafts? That he thinks it's not finished but other think it's awesome
Finally some soft Fitzsimmons scenes
I haven't said it yet, so I'll say it now: I don't like Rosalind
Even when she (apparently) has good intentions, I don't like her
Badass Bobbi
I don't know, for some reason I saw that coming. That Andrew is Lash
(S03 E07) Now knowing that Andrew is Lash, it makes it so much worse when they talk about inhumans in his present
Why do agents tend to keep information they got to themselves?
I like Hunter/Bobbi scenes
Can we please also see Fitz listening to the other audios?
Thank you, wish fulfilled
"Do you remember when we first met? I do. You were so quiet and pasty, and... so incredibly smart, handsome... quite a strange feeling... isn't it? Never wanting to be without someone. You must have been so annoyed, me following you around all the time." - "No. Never." - "I imagine our dinner sometimes... where we'd go, what we'd eat. I wonder about us a lot, actually. There's this small cottage in Perthshire we drove by once when I was a girl, some... some... family holiday, and I don't know why but I... I found it so lovely. I still think about it... a place where you and I could have... But that's that, I suppose. I'm not sure how long this battery will last. I should save it, just in case, for more important things. But I'll still talk to you on my own, if that's all right. I'll always be with you, Fitz." I'm sorry, I just HAD to write this down.
It must have been so hard for May to shoot Andrew and put into that box
Soft Fitzsimmons incoming!!
"Didn't know you thought about setting down in Perthshire. That's in Scotland." - "I know where it is, Fitz." :D
Also: "So when you said all those things about... I mean, you were tired and dehydrated." - "I was as clearheaded then as I've ever been... when I said all those things.... What do you think we should do about it?" - "For now... let's just watch the sunrise."
"You should think on a grander scale." - "Oh, I'll be grand." Yes, cause he is already Grant (Ward)
(S03 E08) That escalated quickly
I like Lincoln's voice
Fuck Ward
Why can Lincoln just work with them from one moment to the other?
Hunter's "Damn the Yanks" Shirt 😅
Coulson and Price together is just urghh
That wasn't a nice thing to do, Ward
"Stop. Just stop trying to do all the right things. It's too much." But that's what we love about Fitz
Why is it so funny; Hunter typing on the computer with Daisy on comms
And of course Hunter can't be really serious (Username: God Save The Queen), and Daisy feels the need to clarify that that wasn't her idea
I love jealous Fitz
"And you dove through a hole in the universe for me!" Thank you for pointing that out
I didn't even realize at first that this was really the FIRST Fitzsimmons kiss, it felt so natural
I may or may not have squeaked
I never realized how long Iain's eyelashes are
No, Fitz, you're not cursed
Watch out, Bobbi, I still need you
"Our friend Mr Banks has just showed up, and I do not have a handkerchief to cover my face... and that would be weird, anyhow." Indeed that would be weird
I don't know if I like Lincoln
I love Bobbi/Hunter dynamic
Of course everything is connected
(S03 E09)
Why is this dinner so awkward?
I mean I didn't like Rosalind, but she didn't deserve that
Aaaaand of course it was Ward
This episode started off with so much, and so fast, I can't even put my thoughts into words and write them down
Kinda cool, the interrogation
Crazy how Coulson, who is normally one of those who can think clearest, is now acting fully emotionally.
First May, then Coulson, everyone is attacking Hunter
Okay, what is going on here? Always putting Fitzsimmons in danger, aren't we, writers of AoS?
You can't just simply separate Fitzsimmons!
Don't you touch Jemma
Ward, you bloody psychopath
I kinda like Thomas
How many phones does someone with anger issues buy each year if every time something inconvenient is said on the phone they throw it away?
Cable ties are really the worst to be bind to something
Oh Fitz, when I said you'd really do anything for Jemma, this isn't what I meant
I beg you pardon, Ward? S.H.I.E.L.D. killed Kara? I think you got there something really wrong. That was you, you shot her
"Fitz, please just let them kill me." Jemma, you know that that's never gonna happen. He would do anything in his power to keep you alive
"I lost you once. I can't lose you again. I'm just... I'm not strong enough to live in a world that doesn't have you in it"
She wants to hug him but she can't 😭😭
Okay, Coulson, that was crazy
They really could have given Fitz some better clothes
(S03 E10) That way, Fitz won't be able to figure out anything
"This is how S.H.I.E.L.D. works. You make a plan, plan turns to rubbish, you make a new plan." Well said
Oh god, oh god, what can I say? I'm literally shaking because of this Fitz/Will thing
I wasn't really able to pause the episode to write something down, so I don't really have any notes from this episode.
But, some things:
I feel bad for Jemma because she looked so guilty when May said that Lash killed all the inhumans, and she was the one who let Andrew free, just to save herself. I don't know, I just feel bad for her
Also, I feel bad for Fitz because he just wanted to bring Will back for Jemma and then Will turns out to be "it"
Also, the few seconds between Fitz shouting to Coulson that they have to hurry and them actually hurrying, when Coulson left his hand by Ward's side, that felt so much longer than it actually was.
Jemma standing by the container at the end, thinking that Fitz didn't make it, just hurt really
Also what was that last glance between Coulson and Fitz suppose to mean? That confused me
And because I feel like I haven't said it in a while: I really love Bobbi and Hunter
(S03 E11) What president is that supposed to be?
I love that Jemma still asks Fitz for his opinion, even when (it seems like) she doesn't really need it
This person with those super powers (who puts Mack in the car) is scary
What did Fitz do to Will, though? I thought Will really died saving Jemma and that, whatever it was, was just disguised as Will
Who could this person be who might know something about Malick?
Ah, van Strucker
This new "Ward" is really weird and scary
Bobbi's "Hey you" (rescuing Mack) made me unreasonable happy
When Coulson said "What about him?" to Lincoln, I thought he wanted to put him into this machine
Why is there almost no episode where no one is captured, hurt, knocked out, or anything like that? And why is it once again Bobbi and Hunter?
"Why are you really here?" is a pretty stupid question you can ask a person who you've kidnapped
Okay, now Elena's no longer scary, more cool
Also please keep Bobbi and Hunter save
"I miss you"
"You've been nothing less than extraordinary this whole time." Jemma's here to speak the truth
"Can we start over, back to where we began?" - "Sixteen and achingly shy" - "Two people, endlessly inquisitive, about to embark on a relationship that will change their lives, but they don't know where it will go. I'm Jemma Simmons, biochemist." - "Leopold Fitz, engineering." What are you planning with this?
Sometimes I feel like they just let Ward live (or something similar), so that Brett Dalton can continue to be a part of the series
(S03 E12)
"What are you?" - "What are we?" That was creepy
"No one would ever intentionally cut their hair like that" That's what I've been thinking about Talbot's hair cut for quite some time
Sometimes I wonder if Lincoln really doesn't follow orders because he doesn't want to or because he can't stop using his powers on command
I'm impressed by Brett Dalton's acting
How could anyone not want to be Hunter's friend? I mean, yes, sometimes he can be out of control and maybe he isn't ALWAYS the greatest friend, but deep down, I believe, he is a great friend and always there for you
Oh, I was wondering, why his right arm is in that sling, but that's actually a smart trick
Jemma calls him Dr. Fitz :)
Why does Hunter keep on doing his own thing?
And why is he always right? ("Oh, guns. Why does no one ever listen to me?")
And why do agents continue to read something or look for something with their backs to the room when they're in a room they're not supposed to be?
Oh, COME ON, Hunter
Well, that's kinda your own fault now, Hunter
Excuse me, Talbot!?
Each episode, my trust issues just get bigger. Like, who CAN I even trust anymore?
Also, why does Coulson always, literally always, look like he's smiling, even when he's not?
"I hate to be a buzzkill, but this is a gun free zone, so I'm gonna have to take that off you." I love you, Hunter
"I love you" same, Bobbi, same
How do the villains always manage to turn things to their advantage?
"Were we the only ones that got the "no weapons" memo?" Probably
"I'm bored of this." Only a selected few could say something like that in the middle of a shooting, and Bobbi is one of them
Don't you ever pull a stunt like that again, Bobbi
"Oh, damn" was my (and probably Hunter's) though, when he saw the red point on his hand
Talbot's "Where is my son?" reminded me very much of Hamilton's in Stay Alive (Reprise)
Grant Ward (or whoever you might be now), that's disgusting!
Hunter, Bobbi, don't die out there
(S03 E13)
Not me who simply said "Bobbi!" when I saw her sitting there
"I'd like a cheeseburger, medium, with cheddar cheese, ketchup, mayo, lettuce, and tomato. And some curly fries. Crispy." Queen Bobbi is here again
"There's no one else to help you here" what happened to Hunter?
That was nice, that Hunter and Bobbi, for once, had a conversation on their own
But of course it had to be interrupted
For a second there I forgot that Bobbi speaks a lot of languages, including Russian
"How's everyone's Russian?" - "My pronunciation's not fluent." - "And mine's nonexistent." - "I dated a Russian hacker once, but I only learned the dirty words." Why is this all so in character?
"Amadeus Ravenclaw Hunter" only Hunter could give that answer (OH WAIT, that is really his real name!? I thought it was just Hunter not taking anything seriously) (Or isn't it? I'm not following. Can anyone give me answers whether or not that's his real full name?)
Would any of them mind just leaving Bobbi and Hunter alone?
I love it so much when Hunter calls her "Bob"
"Wait, wait, hold on. The letter that looks like New Hampshire with legs, that's "D," right?"
A person who has a shadow even though they're not visible, that's creepy
"I have an idea, but it involves May hitting people" May's smirk
I'm sorry but it looked kind of pathetic, the way they were trying to beat the shadow
"As I was saying, don't panic, sir, but your life is in danger"
Fuck. The panic and fear in Bobbi's voice as she says "Hunter, are you OK? - Hunter, please answer me"
The forehead touch🥲🥹🥺
"It's a spy's goodbye" and I started crying, really hard, and didn't stop until the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo appeared
This can't be it. I can't accept it. Why would they let Bob and Hunter go? Why would they do that to me? To all of us?
I see it coming. I'm gonna rewatch season two and three just because of these two
At least they get to go together
I'm gonna miss them so much
The spy's goodbye was really beautiful, though
(S03 E14)
Why would you think that's awesome, brother-of-Mack?
I can't quite keep up
"No, I'm quite comfortable blaming myself, actually, for the lot of it. For all the miseries endured to rescue helpless little Agent Simmons. Will died trying to save me. And Fitz... Poor Fitz nearly got himself killed a number of times, and that's not even the worst of it." - "Andrew. What happened to those Inhumans... not your fault." - "No, I just let a known murderer loose to save my own skin. Traded all those... those lives for mine. Well, it won't happen again. And since I'm practically the only woman here, who can't kill with her bare hands..."
"OK, Fitz, you're with me." - "Uh... Am I?" That's so me
Sometimes I think Coulson is too hard on people, in this case Lincoln
Daisy, you're not supposed to get in a stranger's car
Fitz looks so shaky and kind of afraid when holding the gun against that guy in the car
Daisy can be charmingly dangerous
I'm not overly fond of Mack's brother. I mean I understand why he's angry for Mack constantly putting him off, but still
I hate it when people are somewhere they're not supposed to be
As I was saying, I'm not overly fond of Mack's brother
Oh please, not Fitz again
"Sooner or later, this bomb is gonna go off. And then... I'll implode. Which is gonna be messy." Fitz talks too casually about him imploding
Joss, Jed, Maurissa, would any of you mind not hurting or trying to kill Fitz anymore?
A shotgun axe!!
"Mini Mack"
I was totally expecting Ward to be in that car at the end
(S03 E15) Fitz didn't look too good in Daisy's vision
Why do people (/villains) always want to take over the world? Like, what would you get out of it?
Okay, it wasn't Fitz but Lincoln, still not looking too good
"And Fitz-Simmons will stay out of the damn snow." I mean I know it was part of the vision but why exactly is it so important to stay out of the damn snow?
"Ward" or whoever that is now is even crazier than the original Ward
That's actually a smart idea, them rehearing the fight
But it's also very funny
Ward's wayyy too crazy
Hurry up, hurry up, Daisy
I KNEW that their plan wouldn't work. When Coulson said that May would go in, no one else. That he'd stay away from guns until this is over. And that everyone else stays at HQ. And I can only assume that it's going to start snowing any second
"It's not snow." - "I think we're supposed to hold hands now.... Maybe some things are inevitable." They're too cute
Oh, right, I forgot that that plane explosion was already foreshadowed
I'm sorry for Charles
(S03 E16) I kinda feel sorry for Nathaniel
That transition of It wasn't necessary
Wait, so Nathaniel is It?
That sacrifice was disgusting
(S03 E17)
I was starting wondering what happened to Yo-Yo
And if I'm being honest I forgot about Joey
Daisy surely can jump out of a plane with style
"This seal gonna hold?" - "Hope so. It's chlorine gas. If not, we'll all go blind." And once again, Fitz talks too casually about them getting harmed
"Who needs space? 'Cause I've got something magnificent right here... A picture of space."
Finally, a wholesome Fitzsimmons scene
Also a beautiful, genuine laugh from Jemma
Oh fuck, I did not expect Daisy to be Hive's sway
Don't they have some kind of emergency alarm button in the quarantine room, so Lincoln could warn the others?
I'm confused. How can Daisy be stopped?
Can Daisy be stopped?
Daisy is probably the reason why people aren't allowed to walk under the wings of planes
(S03 E18) Fitz and Simmons are awfully formal, conspicuously inconspicuous
Fitz trying to talk without actually mentioning what he's talking about, and then there's Jemma with "You mean once we have sex"
Daisy, to me at least, looks suspicious the whole time when talking to Hive, but I'm not sure if she is aware that she is possessed
Fitz looks nice in a suit
"Happy to make the sacrifice" is the new "Happy to comply," isn't it?
"But she's the closest thing I have to a daughter."
I see it coming, the suitcase will be gone any moment
Or not
Fitz being confused by Jemma's actions is cute
Fitzsimmons tends to be separated and I am not happy about it
"I thought it would be cool if the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had a shield. Fitz agreed, so..."
When did Jemma say, she'd go nowhere without Ward? (Or did he mean Will?)
Okay, he meant Will
Don't you dare choking Fitz like that
"You know how many times Bobbi and Hunter pulled the "my comms are broken" trick?"
When Mack knows Fitzsimmons better than Fitzsimmons knows themselves
I've been screaming so loudly internally when they kissed (again). I literally had to put my hands on my mouth, so it would stay internally
(S03 E19) What was done to Hive's ancestor looks pretty disgusting
"You didn't see Daisy. She acted like we were still best of pals all while threatening to murder me." - "No, you're right. I didn't see that. I was much too busy listening to the disgusting face of Grant Ward act like my dead boyfriend." - "That's true. That does sound worse." - "Right. If this was a competition, then I'd win. I had to shoot him three times just to shut him up." - "Bet that felt good." - "Yeah, it did. Though it would have felt better had he actually died, instead of just sort of oozing."
Okay, that was even more disgusting, Dr Radcliffe's attempt
I hope that they find a way to get Daisy out of there soon
Fitz talking about Milton, the absolute worst, is too funny
That was pretty stupid, Lincoln
Urghh, May smiled
Why are there suddenly so many nameless soldiers who say more than just "Yes sir"?
Also, I'm constantly expecting Hunter and/or Bobbi to appear on the screen
Hive Daisy's recklessness is scary
And now you've made Hive angry
(S03 E20) I didn't manage to write anything during the episode
But: I thought the lift from the bar to the HQ was really fancy
I was constantly angry at Lincoln for wanting to be with Daisy. So he fooled me too
I was definitely glad that he fooled me and didn't actually wanted to go to Daisy
I still don't like Talbot, even though he didn't really do anything for disliking him
I thought it was really cool that they tricked Hive and Daisy
I am still surprised that Lash doesn't harm Daisy, in contrary really. He was so careful when saving her and freeing her from Hive's sway
I am honestly not sure if I am glad that Lash died or not. Because, yes, he did kill a lot of innocent people, but he also saved Daisy, and maybe they need this power a few more times to free inhumans from Hive's sway
I did not really understand what bad news Fitzsimmons had in the end
(S03 E21) Fitz screamed like a monkey
I'm impressed that Fitz could keep up with that code
Fitz finally initiated a high-five and there's no one who's willing to give him one
Oh dammit, Coulson wants to put Daisy into that machine
Don't provoke Lincoln
Okay, he did
Brett Dalton is honestly a very good actor
Don't get too excited about catching Hive. There is always a hook
Fitz really is the romantic one
I told you, don't get too excited, Hive would find a way to escape
What the hell do you think you're doing, Daisy?
(S03 E22) some post-episode notes
That was... a lot
No, seriously, that was really thrilling
I can't recall particular thoughts or details I want to point out
But a few times I realized I'd clapped my hand over my mouth. I didn't know people really do that, I thought that's just something people in movies do
These new inhumans certainly are pretty creepy
When they were in the room where Jemma was hiding, I was so confused why they couldn't see her
Also Dr Radcliffe is too full of himself
Dammit, I knew Lincoln would die in this episode, but still- Whyyy? I was just stating to REALLY like him
Also Daisy didn't make it any easier not to cry
And that six-months-later scene wasn't what I was looking for. That Daisy left the team
And what the hell does Radcliffe plan to do?
Who is AIDA?
So many questions
But this also means that Fitzsimmons is now at least half a year together, which makes me happy
One of the few things in this episode that made me happy
So, this was me watching AoS season three within 11 days. That was... something. A lot to take in, to think about. I mean we finally got Fitzsimmons. Hive's dead. A lot of other good things happened. But sadly also a lot of bad and not-so-good things. I'm gonna miss Bobbi and Hunter like hell. I already do. (Well, not that I actually miss hell, but I'm gonna miss them really really much). But now to season four. Looking forward to it.
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cardboardqueen · 10 months
Text
In honor of AO3 being down and also realizing that I never posted this fic to tumblr, here’s my Good Omens fic, Unconditionally. [AO3 link]
4254 words, M, Ineffable Husbands, hurt/comfort, mentions of past dubcon but lots and lots of fluff, ace affirmations.  I made myself cry rereading this
           Aziraphale was just as soft as he’d expected, maybe even more so.  Kissing him (gently at first, and then more deeply) was like sinking into bed at the end of a long, long day.  Was like sitting on a rock in the sun.  Was almost like Grace, except without all that pesky guilt.
Six thousand years, and they could finally do this. Six thousand years of watching him from across the garden, the desert, a city square, a table at the Ritz.  Six thousand years of looking over his shoulder, of fluffing up reports, of carrying out a job to the letter so that Hell didn’t have any reason to check up on him.  Six thousand years and an almost-apocalypse and he could finally kiss his angel.
           He brought his hands to Aziraphale’s hips and nudged him backwards towards the loveseat he kept in the living space above the shop.  A loveseat, wasn’t that perfect?  It had been the object of much frustration over the years, having to watch Aziraphale sit there and read with just barely not enough space for him to share without touching. Well he thought now’s our chance, isn’t it?
           So he walked Aziraphale back until his knees hit the loveseat and he had to sit down, breaking the kiss with a breathless, surprised noise.  
           “Change of scenery, dear?”
           “Figured it might make things easier, y’know. Won’t have to worry about falling over.”
           “Excellent idea, my boy.  Now get down here, or I’ll get lonely.”
           “Can’t have that,” Crowley murmured against his lips as he crawled into Aziraphale’s lap.  
           Crowley was no stranger to kissing.  He was no stranger to the bits that came after, either, but this was different than any temptation of a king or deflowering of an important virgin.  This was Aziraphale.  These were Aziraphale’s hands on his waist, on his neck, in his hair.  Aziraphale’s lips on his, more precious that he could ever have imagined.  This felt right and warm in a way no temptation ever could, and he marveled at what he had missed.  It was no wonder humans spent so much time kissing, he was quickly finding that it was one of the best sensations on earth, so long as you actually liked the person you were doing it with.  
           His thoughts were getting away from him a bit. Aziraphale’s kisses were deeper now, harder, and so was the grip on his waist.  Crowley groaned quietly at the rush of sensation (of love too, though he didn’t dare say it yet).  Aziraphale broke the kiss with a grin and met his eyes, bare for once, before diving back in and working kisses across Crowley’s jaw, behind his ear, down his neck, dipping into his collarbone.  He was having quite the difficult time not blaspheming, because the sensations never stopped, they honestly just kept getting better.  Amazing what kissing could feel like when it wasn’t part of a job.
           Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel’s neck and settled more deeply in his lap, pressing their chests firmly together.  His angel was warm, and lovely, and when he wrapped his arms around Crowley tighter still, it made something bright bubble up in his chest. It made his heart skip and his eyes get hot, and so he sat there reveling in it.  Thank anybody that he could simply miracle away the ache in his knees from bending them like this, because he wouldn’t move from this spot, from Aziraphale’s arms, for anything short of another apocalypse.  
           “You know,” Aziraphale breathed against his skin. “If we were humans, this is the part where we would have sex. Do you want to?”
           Crowley froze. A prickle of frost crept down his neck, and then melted to shiver down his spine and into his lungs.  He… honestly hadn’t considered that.  And wasn’t that the understatement of the century, he hadn’t even known that was an option!  Would it even work with a demon and an angel? He supposed they’d had no problem with the kissing up until now, so it was probably fine, but he wished he’d thought of it sooner.  He wished he’d had time to prepare, to do a bit of research, maybe, to brace himself.
           “Crowley, dear?”
           And that was worry in Aziraphale’s voice, wasn’t it? He’d been quiet too long.  
           “Yeah,” he managed, voice rough.  “Yeah, ‘course”
           He caught a small smile flash across Aziraphale’s face and relaxed slightly. He was ok then, hadn’t messed it up yet. With humans it was as easy as dipping your feet into a pond to see their minds, their desires.  Tempting was easier when you could make yourself the perfect temptation, after all.  But angels were different, and Crowley had had to rely on body language, tone, and blessed verbal communication to get this far, and it felt like he was stumbling around in the dark.  
           “Beautiful,” Aziraphale whispered into his collarbones as he undid the top button of his vest. “You really are beautiful, my dear boy.”
           Crowley huffed out a breath at that, distracting Aziraphale with a kiss deep enough that he seemed to forget Crowley’s buttons entirely.  He skated his hands down Crowley’s sides slowly, and goodness that did feel nice.  This is what it’s come to he thought to himself he’s reduced me to words like “goodness”.
           But the cold, wet feeling in his chest was still there, and it seemed to have doused that bright, bubbly thing from before.  Why was that? He had no reason to be nervous.  In fact, he had every reason to be confidant, to take the lead and show his angel the time of his life.  He didn’t know if Aziraphale had ever made the effort before, but he doubted Heaven would have approved.  Crowley on the other hand, had thousands of years and hundreds of temptations worth of experience to draw from.  He could give his angel everything, and he couldn’t possibly fail. He just had to listen, to read it right, find the small grin or raised eyebrow that meant that he was on the right track, and he would be fine.  He could do this.  
           Aziraphale’s hands wandered back down to his hips and traced the waistband of his skin-tight jeans, fluttered over his belt, dipped under the fabric to caress the skin of his hips.  Those beautiful hands dipped lower, below the waistband of his underwear.  They may have bent reality a bit to allow those hands to take gentle handfuls of Crowley’s ass and pull his hips closer still.
           Crowley gasped raggedly, breaking the kiss as Aziraphale pulled him close and he could feel it now.  Regardless of any effort made in the past, his angel was making an effort now and that was.  Perfect. That was perfect, that was exactly what was supposed to happen.  Crowley didn’t know why he hadn’t made the effort himself yet, Aziraphale was bound to notice soon.  
           Ducking his head into the safety of his angel’s warm shoulder, he set his mind to it, called a cock into existence with all of his considerable will and imagination.  It didn’t come.  It had always come before. Instead of a cock there came the pinpricks in his fingers and toes, crawling up his arms and legs.  Those were normal by now, but usually he at least had a cock to go with them.  
           He felt Aziraphale latch onto his neck again, the other side this time, but it felt far away.  His heart started tripping again like it always did before sex, less like skipping though a meadow and more like stumbling down a steep rocky hill.  It went quiet for long moments at a time, trying to find the safest path before jerking to a start and sliding a few feet on loose dirt.  The cold wet thing in his chest was spreading, dripping down to his stomach. It slipped down his arms in goosebumps that turned them to lead around Aziraphale’s neck.  No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to find the gentle warmth from before.  With a cold start he realized that with his eyes buried like this, he couldn’t actually tell Aziraphale apart from any of his jobs.  He should have been able to.  Aziraphale felt nothing like James I, or Alexander the Great, or Elizabeth I, or Nzinga, or Julie d’Aubigny, or, or, or.
           He was starting to tremble.  He could feel it, barely, just like he could feel Aziraphale move away from his neck and nudge him backwards gently.
           “What do you want, my dear boy?”
Crowley pulled his brain back into his head and met Aziraphale’s eyes. They were dark with arousal, and so deeply adoring that it nearly took his breath away.
           “I… what?”
           A wry grin crept onto Aziraphale’s face.  “What would you like to do, Crowley? Don’t get me wrong, kissing you is a dream, but if we’re going to do things the human way, there’s a lot more to it than kissing.”
           Crowley managed a chuckle at that.  He was overreacting, clearly.  Aziraphale was here, and he was himself.  Crowley could feel the warmth slowly seeping back into his legs from where he sat on the angel’s lap.  
           “Have a lot of experience doing things the human way, do you?” he asked, throwing a grin back.
           “Well,” Aziraphale finally seemed a bit flustered at that.  “You know how much I enjoy the comforts of earth.  I figured, if I’m going to be living here, I’ll need to be familiar with the experience. That was the excuse I prepared for Head Office anyway.  After a while, it was just because I enjoyed it.”
           “Angel!” Crowley laughed in mock astonishment. “An angel of the lord inciting lust amongst men! The scandal of it all!” This was good.  Crowley could do banter, and his heart had stopped slipping down hills
           “I don’t know how much ‘inciting’ I was doing, they seemed to have it all worked out on their own.”
           A wide grin stretched Crowley’s face as something occurred to him.  “So you did fuck Wilde then!”
           “I…” “Well Crowley I never…” “A gentleman does not kiss and tell!” was what Aziraphale finally settled on.
           “I always thought it was odd that you had three signed copies of The Importance of Being Earnest.  You were the Jack to his Algernon, only you actually got to fuck.”
           “Crowley really,” he said, but he was grinning. “This is hardly the time to talk about what Oscar and I may or may not have been up to.  I was asking about you!”
           Aziraphale’s perfect fingers began tracing the crease in Crowley’s jeans where his thigh met his hips.  Right next to where his cock would be, if he had managed to make the effort.  His heart stumbled another few feet, and had trouble finding solid ground again.  
           “What about me, angel?” he asked with a teasing grin.  He was sure he could manage it if he just had a moment, just another moment.  
           “What do you like, dear?  What would you like to do?” Aziraphale’s voice was lower and a bit rumbly, and any other moment Crowley would be thrilled.  “Or what would you like me to do to you?”  
           His fingers were creeping closer to Crowley’s zipper, nails dragging against the weave to send tiny vibrations through the denim.  He was going to feel it, the lack of it, any moment now, and Crowley will have really fucked things up.
           “I… I don’t,”
           “Crowley, my dear?” And there it was, because Aziraphale’s voice was back to normal, maybe even a bit higher, and his eyebrows were drawn together. “Is everything alright, dear boy?”
           The pet name nearly broke him.  He felt his eyes grow hot and his lip tremble and honestly considered praying for deliverance.
           “Oh my sweet boy, what’s wrong?” Aziraphale was pulling away now, putting space between them, and Crowley should have seen this coming but it still hurt to have lost him.
           “Crowley my dear, please talk to me.  You know I can’t read your mind.”
           And wasn’t Crowley grateful for that, it was a mess in there at the moment.
           “I don’t think…,” he managed eventually.  “Would you believe me if I told you this was a bit fast for me?”
           “Oh my dear, of course I’d believe you!” Aziraphale face seemed to break open, partly from relief at getting a full sentence out of Crowley, and partly in dread.  Would he believe…?
           Crowley drew back further, as much as he didn’t want to, and Aziraphale set to making him a comfortable spot next to him on the loveseat.  He settled there gratefully, pulling his feet up and resting his chin on his knees.  He nearly reached for his glasses, but Aziraphale had miracled them away earlier, and he didn’t know where they’d gone.  
           “My boy,” Aziraphale said eventually, turning to face Crowley on the couch. “You’ve been patient for however many centuries, I can be patient too.  We can do this at whatever pace you’d like.” He reached out and gently stroked Crowley’s hand where it rested on his ankle.  “I can wait as long as you’d like.”
           Crowley should have been relieved, he wanted to be relieved, but the courage that he’d mustered up shriveled in his chest.  Aziraphale seemed to notice, because his eyebrows pinched again, and he leaned forward.  
           “My dear, will you tell me what’s the matter?”
           Crowley couldn’t meet his eyes.  Aziraphale’s gaze nearly burned on him, but he didn’t seem angry, so maybe he could salvage this.
           He moved to rest his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder instead, and felt the angel wrap a warm arm around his body, felt the other come to rest on his knee.  “You ever get tired of blessing priests, or whatever it is that Heaven sends you to do?”
           Aziraphale took a moment before he spoke.  For all his faith was sometimes naïve, he really was quite clever.  “I suppose they got a bit tedious at times, but I don’t think I ever got tired of the blessings themselves,” he said quietly, carefully.  “Especially the ones that I got to choose.  The seventeenth order to bless this or that bishop or monastery definitely got repetitive, but once I got there, got to know people, it was always rewarding.  And then I could usually afford to bless a few people on the street, because Upstairs was already expecting to process a few miracles.”
           “And now, after everything, do you still…?”
           “I still bless the occasional stranger,” he said gently. “Even more now that Heaven won’t come chasing me down.”
           “Oh.”
           Crowley could feel Aziraphale watching him out the corner of his eye, but his angel didn’t ask.  Just sat there and held him.  He waited. That more than anything is what prompted Crowley to talk.
           “For us,” he started, a bit roughly.  “For demons, you know, a lot of the jobs are Deadly Sins.  Most sins you can trace back to a Deadly Sin if you’re generous.  Corruption is really just Sloth.  Bribes are really just Greed.  Even the M25, I called that Wrath on the report.”
           He felt Aziraphale smile and press a kiss to his hair.  He pushed on.  
           “’Course, some of them are more specific.  ‘Convince this person to kill this person at this place and time’, ‘Attend this party and cozy up to this or that noble’, ‘Join this queen’s harem and whisper these ideas in her ear’.”
           Aziraphale’s hand (the one not resting gently on Crowley’s arm) was picking at the fabric of his trousers, deep in thought.  Crowley carefully moved his own hand so that it just brushed Aziraphale’s leg.  
           “And, you know, ‘sex sells’.  I’m pretty sure that was one of ours, that whole strategy, but it was hell’s policy long before it hit advertising.  Lust’s the quickest, easiest way to cause trouble, usually, and it comes wrapped up with Greed, Envy, Wrath, and Sloth too.  Somebody’s husband gets angry, somebody else wants to be fucking whoever you’re fucking, somebody abandons their duties in favor of ravishing the new toy. Nobody’s going to trust some weird new guy in the odd glasses with government secrets.  But get the weird guy in your bed, wait to see if he kills you, after that you can probably trust him.  And even if you can’t you at least want to keep him around.”
           With the utmost care, Aziraphale brushed his free hand over Crowley’s, and when he didn’t pull away, held it gently but firmly.  
           “Y’know, for a long time, I didn’t know it was called ‘love making’.  I thought people were talking about something else, I dunno.  It was a tool for me, I figured it was a tool for everybody else.”
           Aziraphale hummed quietly.  Crowley gripped his hand a little tighter.
           “Did you enjoy it?” he asked. “With Oscar, or whoever?”
           “I did,” Aziraphale said quietly after a moment.  
           “Huh.”
           They were both quiet for a long time before the angel spoke.
           “Did you not?  Enjoy it, I mean.”
           “I dunno.” Crowley thought for a long moment before he managed to put it into words.  “It was never for me to enjoy, y’know? It wasn’t about me, it was about the temptation. And you know humans, they’re so transparent.  Five minutes and I knew everything they had ever wanted, every fantasy they had ever had. It was easy to just do that and not think about it.  It got the job done.  And at least when I got to be somebody else for a bit, it was less… I dunno.  ‘Scary’ makes me sound like a toddler. ‘Painful’, maybe.” He was quiet again, but this time the hand not in Aziraphale’s started picking at the couch.
           “I kind of figured that angels and demons weren’t like that,” he said at last. “We haven’t even got the bits unless we make them, I figured nobody really wanted it, and everybody else was just better at sucking it up and doing the job, y’know?”
           Aziraphale sucked in a deep breath.  It only shook a little.  
           “I didn’t know,” he said after a moment.  
           “I mean, neither did I, I can’t blame you for that.”
           Aziraphale finally turned to look him in the eyes.  His angel looked heartbroken, and oh, he did that.  
           “Oh no,” he said, pulling him into a hug. “No it’s fine, angel it’s fine, it’s nothing.  What’s that face for, get rid of that face.  I’m sorry, love, I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m sorry.  I can fix it, I promise.”
           Aziraphale started at that, and pulled away, though not far enough to let go of Crowley.
           “My dear, sweet boy, you will do no such thing,” he said with the most force he had used all night.  “There’s absolutely nothing to fix.  Except perhaps having a stern word with your superiors.  My boy, I never would have asked if I’d known.”
           “Oh G-S-whatever, angel, believe me, a stern word won’t do much down there. And it’s fine, I’ll get over it. I just need a bit of time and it’ll be fine.  Humans do it constantly, I’ll figure it out.”
           Aziraphale had that look again, and Crowley scrambled for something else to say before he cut him off.
           “Crowley, that night, after the trials, you said that you’d wanted to kiss me for thousands of years, do you remember that?”
           Crowley was blushing furiously, but he managed to nod.  
           “In all that time, have you ever imagined having sex with me?”
           Crowley’s stomach dropped, and he went cold all over.  He refused to meet Aziraphale’s eyes.  
           “My dear, I don’t mean to upset you.  It’s not a trick, I just want to know.”
           “Once,” he whispered.
           “Once?”
           “Yeah.”
           “And what was that like?”
           Crowley’s brain ground to a halt.  What had it been like?  It hadn’t been like much of anything because he couldn’t get his brain to go past taking off his angel’s waistcoat.  It all just stopped.  
           “’t was after I woke up.  When I figured out you and Wilde had been a thing,” he said after a while, still not making eye contact.  
           “You really are hung up on Oscar, aren’t you?” Aziraphale chuckled.  
           “Yeah, I was.”  That was angrier than he had meant it to be but, well.…
           “Oh.”
           “Yeah.”
           “Whatever for?” Aziraphale asked eventually.  
           “Well you never shut up about him.  Kept talking about his bloody plays, and his book, and that damn cigar lounge.  And he’d had quite a reputation.”
           “I know gossip is a sin, but I thought you were better than to go around judging people-”
           “Not like that, angel, just…. I think that was the first time I wondered if I was meant to enjoy it.  You seemed to have liked him so much, and he had that reputation so it wasn’t unreasonable to assume that you and he might have…. And it couldn’t have been a job for you, so you must have enjoyed it.  And anyway, I thought, well, maybe I could enjoy it.  If I tried.  So I tried. And I couldn’t.  It wouldn’t work.”
           “What wouldn’t work, my dear?”
           “My blessed brain couldn’t even imagine it properly!  Completely bloody imaginary and I still can’t get it right.” Crowley was tense all over, nearly shaking from anger, or frustration, or whoever knew what.  
           “Dear boy,” Aziraphale said, gently pulling Crowley back to rest on his shoulder. “I don’t think it’s something that you get ‘right’ or ‘wrong’.  I think it just is.  If thinking about it upsets you, then it’s not right for you to think about it. It’s meant to be a thing of love, it’s not supposed to upset you.”
           “Yeah, that’s what I’m figuring out,” he mumbled into Aziraphale’s neck. He was still strung tight, but the atom bomb in his chest felt a little less like it was going to explode when he was being held like that.  “If that’s it though, then it’s just me, right?  Like, you enjoy it, which means that other angels and demons probably like it, which means it’s just me.”
           “I wouldn’t say it’s just you, my love.” The pet name made him go warm, but he didn’t dare interrupt.  “And even if it was, it would hardly matter.  There is nothing on this earth nor beyond it that could make me willingly upset you.  It doesn’t matter how much I might enjoy it, it’s nothing if you’re not enjoying it too.”
           “I can figure it out,” Crowley mumbled, but he was losing steam.  He didn’t know how a punch to the gut like Aziraphale’s could feel so good, but it did, and he wasn’t about to argue.  
           “That’s just it though, there isn’t anything to figure out, is there?” Aziraphale nudged Crowley enough to meet his eyes.  “This isn’t something that you should have to ‘figure out’.  I’ve enjoyed sex in the past, but it’s certainly not a requirement.  I also enjoy sushi, and I collect misprinted bibles.  But I don’t expect you to eat things you don’t like, and I certainly don’t expect you to help me repair books that will hurt you.”
           “You don’t need a partner to eat sushi.”
           “No, but it’s nice.  And to be honest, you don’t really need a partner to get off either, do you?”
           “Angel!” he chuckled quietly. “Surely you’re not advocating for the deadly sin of lust!”
           “Hush, you.” Aziraphale pulled at one of Crowley’s hands and laced their fingers together.  “I have loved you for centuries.  I have wanted to kiss you for decades at least.  I may have been a bit slow on the uptake, but I know that for sure.  There are thousands of things I want to do with you that don’t involve sex.  There are no conditions on loving you.  If all I ever do is kiss you and hold your hand, it will be more than I ever thought I could have, and more than enough to keep me happy.”
           Crowley fought back tears that really shouldn’t have been possible with snake eyes, but fuck it.  
           “Angel?”
           “Yes, my dear?”
           Crowley managed a deep breath and a shaky exhale.  He just needed one more thing.
           “What if I never figure it out?”
           “My love, then I will continue to be the happiest I have ever been.”
           Crowley lost to the tears then and did his best to press them into Aziraphale’s shirt instead of letting them run down his face.  
           “Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly, pulling him into a tight hug and easing them both down to lay on the loveseat.  “There is nothing in Heaven or Hell that could stop me loving you, least of all this.  God Herself could come into this shop and tell me to be rid of you, and I would have no problem disposing of Her like I do every other impolite customer. There is nothing wrong with you, and so there is nothing to be ‘figured out’.  If you want to try having sex someday, let me know and we can try.  But if that day never comes, I won’t be any less for it, and neither will you.”
           The bright bubbly feeling was back.  The bubbling was slower, and his chest was stuffed up from crying, but warmth radiated from every inch he touched his angel, and he had this figured out, at the very least.  
           “I love you, angel.”
           “I love you too, my dear, sweet boy.  Unconditionally.”
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samsvenn · 2 years
Note
Hi! Could you make a post about the DL guys being super drunk and telling their kids what actually made them fall for yui? :))
𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐊𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐮𝐢
hello! i wrote for the sakamakis bc it wasn't specified which family to write for :) went for this format instead of a bulleted one. read this but with a lot of words being slurred and almost incomprehensible enjoy! <3
𝐒𝐡𝐮
“Heh… I guess it’d be your mom’s patience with me-? It’s not everyday you meet someone who’s willing to break a bone to make sure you’re alright. She didn’t have to do it and honestly, she should’ve done it to another guy but in the end, she put up with me and I’m glad she did.”
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“Nobody can beat your mom’s cooking so you rascals better go easy on her. I’m pretty sure your mom doesn’t wanna deal with three mini-me’s since she could barely handle one.”
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𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐣𝐢
“I suppose… Your mother’s nature to be able to forgive is what made her the only one whom I deeply love. As ashamed as I am to admit, I was not always the courteous man you see before you. My closet has some dusty skeletons, figuratively that is..!”
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 “She taught me; yes, your astute all-knowing father, that it’s okay to be true to your emotions, no matter how shameful nor embarrassing they are. In her own words: ‘There is no such thing as an emotion which you should feel sorry for having’. Ah-! No! I’m not blushing! It’s simply the drink… Yes, the drink.”
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𝐀𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨
“...” He’s trying very hard to not comment on anything physical. Yui’s giving him the Don’t You Dare look and for now, it’s working. “Jeez… What’s with the sudden interrogation kid-? It’s impossible to think when I’m like this, y'know?”
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“..! O-Oi-! Okay! I give in! Your grandpa’s gonna kill me if he found out I made one of ya tear up. I’m not scared of some old bastard but to answer the question, it’s the way she treats me. Back in the day, lots of banging babes love your pa. But! None of them will ever come close to how your mom makes me feel, f-u-l-l  s-t-o-p.”
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𝐋𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐨 
“Oh my! As your father, is there someone you’re interested in? This question… Yes, it must be it-! Hm? You're simply curious?”
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"Your lovely mother made me realize something a long time ago. From time to time, I wonder what would’ve happened if my stubbornness got in the way of things. I thought that I simply wanted your mother to be with me, but one day, I realized that I couldn’t bear the thought of having another man by her side. She taught me a lot but her most important lesson was teaching me how beautiful love is. When you grow older, perhaps one day you’ll understand my words nfufu~"
"Ah-! Wait! For the sake of your poor father, don’t grow up too soon, m’kay? I don’t want some creepy guys or girls crowding you.”
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𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨
“Your mother’s fondness to cater to me is what made her stand out. It touches me… deeply. The only person who’s come close to achieving such a feat is Teddy and we all know how oh-so dear I hold him in my heart. Granted, even I marvel at the fact that your mother managed to be on the same level as Teddy.
...Perhaps this is what love is, no? Full of surprises, full of life and full of revelations.”
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𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐮
“...Hah? How I fell for her huh?
Your mom never gave up on me. When I was young, I was rowdier than your younger brother in every sense of the word. She made sure I was never alone and promised she’d always be with me, no matter how much of a brute I was. Your dad was dumb and hell, I was more of an idiot than your Uncle Ayato. But looking at how things are now, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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m-y--p-a-s-s-i-o-n-s · 6 months
Text
20 Questions for Fic Writers!
Thanks for the tag, @lizzy0305 <333
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
162
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
622,263 - surprisingly low for how many fics I have, but a bunch are drabbles so I guess that checks.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
What fandoms don't I write for? XD
Supernatural. Sherlock. Star Trek. Teen Wolf. Marvel. Harry Potter. Merlin. James Bond. Lucifer. House MD. Primeval. Doctor Who. Venom. The Witcher. The Old Guard. Ted Lasso. Detroit Become Human. Good Omens. Our Flag Means Death. Hannibal.
Plus a few others.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Meant To Be - AOS Star Trek
5 Times Jim Forgot About Vulcan Hand Sensitivity & 1 Time He Didn't - AOS Star Trek
Making Love - Venom
Lunch Break - House MD
Truth Or Dare - Supernatural
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I try to respond to every comment provided its not hate, I ignore hate. I want people to know that their comment is truly appreciated from the bottom of my heart. Comments are food for the writer's soul.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Probably either The Void (TOS Star Trek) or Forever (SPN) or most of my SPN Endverse fics.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Most of my fics have happy endings, I live for them! Hmmm trying to think of particularly fluffy ones though... The Prince and The Princess - (AOS Star Trek) What No Man Has Done Before - (AOS Star Trek X HP) Good News - (DBH) Afterlife - (TOS Star Trek)
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Not too much, but it happens every so often. Why people can't just exit a fic or not interact with it if they don't like it is beyond me.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Sure do. Um, explicit and M/M but the specifics vary depending on pairing and fic. Been getting more detailed and more adventurous with it over the years though.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
Ohhhh boi have I ever written a crazy crossover XD
Convergence - where I brought many many fandoms (and even more ships) together in a story with an actual plot.
Its not my only crossover, but it's by far the craziest.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that I'm aware of, but I have been asked if some can be translated before, just never heard from them again.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
In a way with @lizzy0305 who started Fragments ages ago and then I finished it because we both knew she wasn't going to finish it.
and also Double Date with weegie8 a long long time ago.
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
My OTP of OTPs is Spirk <3
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Theres a johnlock fic that could be the first wip i never go back to.
and an SPN and a Stanner fic that both could stay wips forever, but honestly it just takes one spark in my brain and the right mood and I could finish any of these, so never say never.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Not sure really. My fluff is extra tooth rotting? XD Also once I get used to a character their voice is easy to channel I suppose.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Feels like everything when you're trying to write a damn fic XD um, maybe not putting in enough details into a scene.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I often use Vulcan language in Star Trek fics, I think it adds to it. However I get that it can be annoying to not understand a piece of likely important dialogue cause its in another language. It doesn't bother me though.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Technically HP when I was teen, before I knew what fandom and fanfiction were. But when I was in the know it was Supernatural.
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
How can I just pick one? I'll pick a multichapter and a one shot that I love.
The One That Got Away - TOS Star Trek
The Update - DBH
Tagging: @dayspring-askanison @heartshapedvows @doonarose
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maegalkarven · 5 months
Text
I'm struggling to turn this piece into full thing, so here's the snippet.
cambion!June(Durge) and Gortash meet for the first time, at the HoH.
The party is…lame. This is a really rude and ungrateful thing to say, considering he had to beg, bargain and manipulate his way into being allowed out of the vault and into the other layer of Hell altogether.
Why uncle Raphael even bothers to live in this weird parody of a castle is a wonder, and in Avernus of all places. Couldn’t find a layer of Hell higher than that? Clearly not.
Still, the house isn’t that bad; it is flying by some means unknown, and has a great view out of the windows and many balconies; something Juniper’s vault lacks.
“A great view, isn’t it?” and speak of the devil. Well, the cambion. Uncle Raphael walks into the balcony, a glass of something looking like wine but distinctly different in hand. “Don’t suppose you have seen the Blood War before, have you?”
“Is that why you chose Avernus of all places?” June asks, but can’t help to look down at the battle. It is a marvelous view, a true chaos of war at its very glory; different kinds of devils and demons attacking each other and trying to overpower the foe.
June has always admired the demons for their chaotic nature, not what he’d tell his relatives of that. Must be the godspawn blood speaking in him, the blood of a God of Murder.
June wonders what it’s like to be Bhaal’s son, what it’s like to walk a god among men and leave a trail of blood and viscera behind. To be free in your actions, to roam the streets of mortal men like the nightmare came from the Outer Planes.
To live, not waste away inside one of the numerous vaults of the Lord of the Eighth.
“Juniper,” his uncle calls out rather impatiently. “I asked you a question.”
“No, I suppose I haven’t,” he stares down as a massive blast of magic tears through the ranks, breaking bones and tearing flesh. Oh how he wants to jump down to them, to join, to let his hands drown in the blood of-
“Juniper.”
“I am listening,” his tail twitches in irritation, his wings flutter.
Whose of his grandfather’s oldest servants and allies claim he looks just like Mephistopheles did back in the old days, when he had not yet claimed the more classical look of the devil, full of red and fire. They say his grayish-blue skin are akin to his mother’s, what his wings, horns and claws are the same deep shade of blue of grandfather, what the sooty black scales are nothing but perfection. Juniper doesn’t particularly care it it’s the truth or not, he is so rarely out of his confinement any interaction feels like a breath of fresh air.
More often than not he, a proud son of two powerful beings, is reduced to nothing but another treasure in Mephisto’s vault. Just another pretty magical curiosity, not a living being. Not achdevil’s kin.
“I don’t think you do,” Raphael complains. He sports the look eerily alike to Mephistopheles’ current visage: same red of skin, same horns, same wings, and same draping cape. He is clearly compensating for something.
“No, I truly do,” June smiles weakly. “It’s just you rarely have something interesting to say. I wonder if it was even worth leaving the vault at all,” he wrinkles his nose. “At least there I have every magic tome my heart desires for consumption, every secret of the universe laid bare before me.”
He is lying, of course, but not too much. He is allowed to study a generous amount of books out of his grandfather’s endless library, and is allowed to conduct his own experiments. If anything, it’s even praised.
His uncle huffs. “Very clever,” he rolls his eyes. “I dare to say I am the better conversationalist than you are, my dear bloodthirsty kin.”
“I haven’t killed anyone yet, have I?”
“But you want to, don’t you? I can feel it boiling under the surface of the flesh, blood hot as hellfire, lower impulses raised-“
“Are you trying to provoke me into something?” June raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t buy into the servants’ tales of me going into rampages and killing lesser devils left and right, did you?”
Raphael studies him.
“Are those lies?”
“Yes.”
No. Bhaal has been insistent in his attempts to claim his vile blood of late, the result of it shown in the bloody tapestries hung around the Mephistar. If grandfather was displeased, he did not show it. His uncle smiles.
“I think you’re lying, my dear one,” he cups June’s cheek gently. “I think you’re sick and tired of playing Mephistopheles’ little pet. I think,” he steps closer. “You want to be let out.”
June takes a step away, his back hitting the railing. Below the war rages, in all its blood, fire and glory. Below him devils and demons alike live and die for something what’s worth living and dying for.
Raphael corners him by the railing.
“My sweet poor Juniper,” he hums. “Father really doesn’t pay you attention you deserve. You truly are a marvel, the last Bhaalspawn alive.”
That jerks June up.
“The last one?” he can’t help but take the bait. “But I thought the Hero-“
His uncle smiles like the cat that just got the mouse.
“The hero is dead, along with their last remaining kin,” he tilts his head to the side. “You’re the only child unlucky god of murder still retains. And just far enough away to be out of his grasp,” he toots. “I wonder if you feel it in your blood, your unholy calling-“
“My unholy calling is here,” June argues. “In Hells, in Mephistar. I am the grandchild of-“
“Of the archduke of Cania, I know,” Raphael interrupts. “But does it matter? Does he even care?”
At that the young fiend bristles. Of course grandfather cares; he took him in, raised him in his very own Citadel, gave him the education- -and locked him in a vault.
“And does he care about you?” he retorts. “At least I was created with some thought given, some intent behind. And you? Just a single slip of Arcduke’s, nothing more.” Raphael presses him harder into the railing.
“Careful,” he smiles, all teeth and promise of the pain to come. “I’d hate to hurt your delicate little wings; they haven’t seen enough flight, have they? Don’t think they’ll hold your weight all the way down.”
“Uncle,” June tilts his head to the side. “Are you threatening me?” he feigns ignorance. “Why? Did I say something to upset you, hit some chord perhaps? If so, I do apologize. Insulting the host in his own house was not my intention; especially the one is so…sensitive.”
'The sensitive host' sneers and almost pushes him off the balcony, but a new voice clears the throat. Raphael and June turn around to peer at the young man standing at the threshold.
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