#then after a decade I finally gave him a haircut thank god

[pearl-kite]

Continuing to do some of the prompts @mihqorio sent in, this time [a] favorite OC in warm blanket. I legitimately cannot pick a favorite between Gale and Akos, but since I've already done two prompts for Gale, it's Akos' turn

Also, whatever it going on with this change to the post editor is bad. Badbadbad what is going on this is obnoxious

#asks #sort of anyway? #okay so I've done so many of these prompts that I enjoyed and then I hit that obnoxious plateau where everything looks terrible to me #but this one turned out /mostly/ okay which tbh is what I expected because I lov heem #still gave me some trouble but I like how the palette worked out #mih idk if you want me to tag you in these or not but since you sent the original prompts I figured? #kirehn draws #palette meme #drawing prompts #akos #mihqorio #like I said all my oldest children have hair that could fit into an anime well #akos originally had a very sasuke hair cut v_v;;; #then after a decade I finally gave him a haircut thank god #just now realizing it's actually a bit long but idgaf it stays #also really what's up with the editor? I can't copy/paste discord images anymore? it's just a link to the image? #what's up with that? #also not sure if this even tagged properly but that's not super new for tumbl #oh shit it's later than I thought I'm going to bed I have an interview tomorrow

[thebmatt]

FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt #22: Fluster

Fluster – make someone agitated or confused.

Aetherytes were constantly busy. You learned pretty quick to move away from one as soon as you manifested next to one, lest someone suddenly appear next to you and knock you both down.

Old Man Franks, tired as he was, almost forgot this, and only barely missed being clipped by an arriving Roegadyn armed with an enormous spear on his back.

He quickly moved out of the plaza and cast a quick glance about, and then raised his hand to his ear, activating his linkpearl

Rheika’s voice answered him. “Heya Franks. You get to the Toll already?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I take it you’re not?”

“Not yet. Fearless isn’t answering her ‘pearl, so Dahk and I went to her place. Ranaa said she and Makoto went to the Sekiseigumi HQ, so we’re headed there. Turns out she left it at home. Again. Anyway, go on in and figure out what’s going on, we’ll be there as soon as we find her. “

“Copy that. Hopefully whatever this is can be resolved fast. I need to catch up on some sleep.”

“Did you stay up all night working on cross-world portals again?”

“I admit nothing, see you soon.” He disconnected the link before she could chastise him further and headed into the Seventh Heaven bar. A few of the regular patrons tossed greetings his way, which he returned as best he could in his sleep-deprived state,

The bouncer who guarded the door to the Rising Stones nodded at him and stepped aside. Franks strode in, turning to shut the door behind him quietly. Darn thing tended to slam, he’d been meaning to install something to slow it down. Maybe after some rest today.

“All right, Tataru, what is this emergency…about…” Midway through his sentence, he’d turned to face the room. Sitting at one of the table were Tataru, Y’shtola, and someone who shouldn’t be there. Someone who couldn’t possibly be there. Because she was dead.

Standing up at the table, hand over her mouth and tears streaming from beautiful sea-green eyes that he hadn’t witnessed in years, was a viera woman that happened to be the spitting living image of the woman he’d married so long ago.

She dropped her hand, looking for all the world as happy as the day they’d wed. “Hello, my love.”

Twelve forfend, it sounded like her too. “What the hells is this? No…you’re dead, this is some kind of trick!” He pointed a shaking finger. “You’re a godsdamned Ascian, you HAVE to be! How the hells did you make someone look like her??”

She ran to him. “Darling, no, it’s me, I swear it!” She moved in close, trying to embrace him, but he backed away, shock and anger on his face.

“Fandaniel, that you? Because you just crossed a fucking line, you piece of filth, and I’m going to make you regret it!”

The woman looks over to Y’shtola, panicking. “He…what’s happening, who does he think I am?”

Y’shtola has already moved next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and holding the other with her hand. “Aleister, I swear to you on my life, this is not a trick. Do you remember how Rheika unmasked Elidibus, by tricking him about the Amaro? It proved that an Ascian can’t access memories of their hosts, do you recall that?”

He had stopped backing away, but his eyes didn’t waver from the woman who looked like his wife. He nodded.

Y’shtola looked to her. “Tell him something that only you would know. Something you’d never reveal under even the gravest duress.”

Her eyes danced back and forth, considering, thinking. Finally, they widened and she smiled again. Closer and closer, she approached him, but now he didn’t move. Could….could it be?

She whispered in his ear and he cried out in joy. His world faded, and there was nothing more than the woman in front of him. He pulled her in, crushing against her. Her arms wrapped around his back and pulled in just as strong. So many sensations, so many memories flooded him, and he took all of them in. The scent of her, the feel of her living body preseed to him, the sound of her voice as she whispers her love between sobs. He could not reply, too overwhelmed to cry and breathe.

Tataru moved next to Y’shtola, unable to take her eyes off of the embracing pair. “It…it really is her.”

Y’shtola nods.

“But…how?”

“I think that story is best told to us from them. Once everyone has joined us. I think our resident Old Man may finally be ready to open up, since the loss that caused him so much pain is no longer lost at all.”

Finally, Franks was able to catch his breath and he pulled back to look at her. He kept her close, arms wrapped around her waist, as though he feared she might vanish into mist if he let go. For her part, she likewise kept her arms solidly behind his neck. “Gwen….I…I don’t understand. They…multiple people told me they saw you get taken by Sylvanas’ death squads. We…” He hiccuped. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he kept going. “We scattered when we heard you got taken…that’s, that’s how I ended up here.”

She smiled. “They were right. I was put in with dozens of others, taken to a camp somewhere in Hillsbrad, couldn’t tell you where exactly. We were lined up. Living prisoners had their names taken, checked off a list, then executed right then and there. Some were….were fed to the soldiers. Others to plaguehounds. But for whatever reason, they didn’t kill the Forsaken. Maybe she had sentimentality about us, or maybe she planned to do it later, but we were just shoved into a makeshift prison and left there. We got food occasionally, but no interaction otherwise. Just neverending boredom. Zenjulin and Beskar finally found the place and killed off the few remaining loyalists that still manned it, freeing us.”

She shuddered. “By that point, the Banshee had fucked off to…wherever it was she went. I don’t know. Zenjulin explained it, but I wasn’t listening very well. Or he was missing details, I don’t know. Anyway, he said that our allies were being brought back together to stop her and whatever else she’d brought with her, but that you were still missing. I told them I refused to do anything until I found you. They understood, and I started tracking your movement. Which was hard, because you’d concealed them well, but eventually I made it to Stranglethorn and discovered the cave, the one Y’shtola tells me you came to that same one and it brought you here.”

Franks looked over to Y’shtola, who smiled. “I went there to take some readings, and found her emerging out of the cave. Once I realized who she was, I brought her straight here and had Tataru contact you.”

“Thank you.”

She shook her head. “There is nothing to thank.”

Franks looked back to Gwen. “I… gods, Gwen, you look like the day I asked you to marry me. Even despite all the years, both living and dead, I recognized you right away. I…I actually hallucinated last night…I saw you. Worked for too long without sleeping again. You looked…almost exactly as you do now.” He chuckles. “You uh…you didn’t have these, though”.

He reached up to stroke the fur of her ears. She made a very happy noise at the touch. “Okay, those are definitely a little sensitive, good to know.” She cuddled up against his shoulder, enjoying the sensation.

Eventually he stopped and pulled back again, looking her over. Everything was the same, her long graying hair, two green eyes, one slightly darker than the other, on a heart-shaped face. Everything save the ears. He vaguely recalled the shape of her human ears, but they were no longer there.

She giggled. “I…I don’t know what changed me or why it gave me my youthful body with these ears, honestly. You, though, you look a little bit older than the day you asked me to marry you. Maybe…around our 10th anniversary, I’d guess? Bit more white though, not that I mind. That haircut’s definitely a lot better, someone’s been taking care of you on that front, I see.

She placed her hands on his arms, rubbing them appreciatively. She moves them to his chest and down to his abs, sculpted like they’d been in his younger days from long hard hours of farmwork. “And I see you’ve definitely been taking care of the rest of you. Been way too long since I’ve seen these muscles.” she purred.

Franks laughed nervously. “Well, um….you get a second chance like this, you tend to appreciate and take care of things you took for granted…before.” His hands slipped down to her hips.

Their eyes met, growing lidded. Slowly, he ran his hands up her sides, appreciating every ilm of her curves, ghosting the sides of her breasts. He pulled her close, and their lips met in a kiss they’d not been able to share in decades.

Memories of all of their favorite intimate moments with the other flooded their minds, and both had a realization that those moments could now not only be remembered, but now relived. The rest of the world had long been forgotten and their kisses and touches became more heated when the world suddenly reminded them that it was still there.

“Ahem”

The pair broke, looking in the direction of the voice. The other Warriors of Light and the senior members of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn had all entered and were staring at the pair in varying levels of confusio

Rheika spoke up. It had been her voice that broke into their moment, Franks realized. “I hate to interrupt your moment, I swear I do, but uh…didn’t we have some kind of emergency? Also, um, who is this? Not that you don’t deserve to kiss someone that gorgeous, but I feel like I’m missing part of the story here.”

Franks laughs. Both he and Gwenefyr have turned beet red having realized just how much of a crowd their reunion had attracted. “Ah, yes. Um, well, everyone…allow me to introduce you all to Gwenefyr Franks. My…not quite late wife, as it turns out”

She giggled at that. “Hi, everyone. Y’shtola’s told me a little about you all. I…think I recognize at least some of you from her stories.”

Franks looked over everyone. Thancred, Estinien, and Alisaie weren’t even masking their suspicion. Dahkar, Alphinaud, and Rheika wore expressions of shock. Fearless looked like she was going to explode with joy. Urianger just looed perplexed.

It was Thancred who stepped forward. “Franks….are you sure? I mean, we’ve seen the Asicans puppet dead bodies before..

He immediately shook his head. “No, no, I thought the same thing. But remember, Elidibus didn’t have access to Ardbert’s memories so Y’shtola asked her to tell me something only she would know. It…it’s definitely her.”

Gwen took his hand and looked to the gunbreaker. “Thancred, right?”

Thancred nodded.

“Y’shtola told me you’d probably be the hardest to convince. I don’t know what to say or do to prove to you that I’m not a…..Asican, was it? But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you. To all of you. Because I’m not going anywhere.” She looked up to her husband. “Right?”

He looked right back to her, his eyes sad. “I…don’t think I can go back there again. Not if it means…going back to the way our forms were.Are you…okay with that? With leaving it all behind? I promise, this place is…it’s worth it.”

She nodded. “I don’t think I can either. Azeroth has taken enough from us. And the others…they told me they won’t be surprised if we don’t return to the fight. They’re prepared to keep working towards the dream, but they’ll have to do it without us. I’m not going anywhere without you, love. We have a second chance at actual life and I’m not going back to a world without it or without you.”

Alphinaud speaks up. “Apologies, but did you say Azeroth? I’ve not heard of such a place.”

Franks nods. “Yeah. That’s….that’s the other reason I’m pretty confident she’s not an Ascian. And it’s a story most of y’all long overdue for hearing. And now that I have…gods I can’t believe I have you back…ahem. Well, there’s just no point in hiding it anymore. Gather round…time I told the full story of where I….where we are actually from.”

#Final Fantasy XIV #FFXIV 2021 Writing Challenge #oldmanfranks #Aleister Franks #Gwenefyr Franks #Rheika Aliapoh #oh I am so happy I got to write this reunion. #I tried writing the time they were reunited in WoW and it just felt unnatural and weird. #This is so much better

[beifongbabey]

fill my heart, fill my head with these words

Words: 5258

Explicit language 

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first dinner at the Ritz - 1979 

“... maybe dine at the Ritz.” 

Suggested about a decade ago, the thought had stuck with Crowley through his most recent years-long nap. After getting up and getting with the times, (i.e. haircut, clothing, music; he has to look good, especially tonight), he thought he would surprise Aziraphale. He felt a pull toward him, the urge to just spend some time together. Maybe it was Aziraphale projecting (he hoped), but it was likely Crowley just missing the angel. He would never admit to it though. 

He left his flat around 8:30 and drove his way through London. He was going slightly slower than usual, only hitting about 75. Nerves? No, fuck off. Does the angel want to see him? Shut up. Worried Aziraphale is busy? Yep, let’s go with that. 

He arrived at the bookshop and, as briskly as he could with his saunter, walked to the front door and opened it. 

“Angel?” 

“Crowley?” He heard Aziraphale’s voice from a distant, quiet and unsure. As Crowley walked further into the room he heard a book close, a glass being placed down, and footsteps become clearer as the floor creaked slightly. “Crowley,” he said with a gentle smile. 

“Hi, Aziraphale, long time.” 

“It’s lovely to see you.” Aziraphale kept that smile that made Crowley’s heart beat a little faster. They sat in silence like this for a minute. 

Smile fading, the angel finally broke the silence, “what are you doing here?” 

“Oh, right, yeah. Want to do dinner?” Breaking that stare and moving on with a real conversation was just slightly difficult. 

“Oh! That would be lovely, I actually just heard of this new place down…” 

“Actually, I already have a place picked out.” Really he’s had it picked out for the last decade, but Aziraphale doesn’t need to know that. 

Aziraphale shot him a look of surprise. He rarely didn’t pick the restaurant, but he was not going to complain. One, so long as it was food he didn’t care. Two, he had missed the demon dearly and was just content to spend a little time with him. So he grabbed his keys, turned off the lights, and made sure the bookshop was locked and safe. 

Crowley waited for him outside of the Bentley and made sure to get in at the same time as the angel. Crowley turned on the ignition and music began to play. 

The song begins softly, but Crowley recognized it instantly. 

I can dim the lights

To the car, hoping he was quiet enough for Aziraphale to not hear, “you’re already on thin fucking ice.” 

The Bentley happily continued to play. Crowley, though slowly tightening the steering wheel, stared straight ahead. He wanted to look and see if Aziraphale had noticed or was listening at all, but also feared what he was about to see. So he chanced the smallest side glance, desperate and fearful. 

From what he could tell, Aziraphale was sitting as normal. Crowley’s shoulders relaxed slightly, figuring this would continue through the song. He still kept his death grip, promising punishment, and he counted the seconds until the song would end. 

The thing was, the song was accurate. He knew that, but Aziraphale shouldn’t bloody know. His Bentley, the car that had been with him for years, was going to pay for this in whatever way an inanimate object could. It didn’t fear Crowley in the way his plants did (which he had just begun “taking care” of). But he’ll find a way. 

Be a valentino just for you 

What Crowley had missed after his side glance was a twitch of a smirk on Aziraphale’s face. Though he maybe didn’t always understand certain types of music, he loved the poetic lyrics. As he listened, he found the lover boy to be quite endearing. In his mind, hidden behind a mask of serenity, he thought of Crowley. 

As the song requested to feel that heartbeat grow faster, faster, Crowley complied. Not on purpose, mind you. His Bentley was maybe a little forceful with its love for the pair. His teeth ground together until… 

Dining at the Ritz, we’ll meet at nine

Fuck. Crowley’s eyes went wide under his glasses and he could feel his face becoming just a little hotter than Hell. His gears were churning over how to punish this damn car. 

But, both were unconsciously planning on following some of the lyrics; Aziraphale will choose the wine, Crowley will drive them back to the bookshop, and maybe they’ll spend just a little extra time there. 

OH, LOVE

On the other side, Aizraphale sat politely on the outside. But thank god it was dark because his face was redder than a tomato. His blush was powerful, but so was Crowley’s. They both remained staring forward, even as their emotions bubbled, twisted, and screamed internally.

As the last note hit and seemed to echo within the pair’s heads, Crowley hissed, “I swear if you play...” But the Bentley simply switched to classical music. It knew the point was made. 

Luckily the ride was almost over anyway, but those last few minutes helped relax the blushes and return their hearts to a (hopefully) normal pace. Both beings were deep in their feelings, but neither knew what the other thought. So, they figured if it’s not broke, don’t fix it, and continued on with what their relationship has been like the last few thousand years. 

Yes, they were both idiots, but idiots in love. And the Bentley knew that and did what it could to try and change that.  

return from Ireland - 1986 

They were both sent to Ireland on tasks. One was to encourage a bombing, one was to save a child who would otherwise die from a bombing. 

At one of their usual lunches, Aziraphale mentioned needing to travel in a few days for a new miracle. 

“Oh, where? ‘M supposed to do a temptation over in Ireland.” 

“What a coincidence! That’s where I have to head. What are you doing?” 

Crowley hesitated for a second. He didn’t want to do this one. Was planning on making it not happen. He didn’t like the ones where people had to die, especially innocent ones. He enjoyed inconvenience, making people just slightly irritated. 

Aziraphale could feel a bit of pain coming off of Crowley. 

“What is it?” Aziraphale asked in a low voice. 

“Er, I’m supposed to make a bombing occur in the North.” He paused, looked down at his lap. “I wasn’t planning on letting it happen though.” 

Aziraphale gave him an empathetic look. He always knew Crowley was a little bit of a good being, but he only showed that side on occasion. 

“Well, I’m supposed to go and save a child from a bombing. If we’re going at the same time, likely supposed to be yours...” 

Crowley looked up. Heaven was going to let it happen but only save one life? “Well, maybe we can go together. Maybe change a little thing here and a little thing there and make it seem like the humans made the choice.” His voice began to fill with hope. “Maybe we can drive to the coast and take a ferry over. Don’t want to use too many miracles and get in trouble.” The slightest smirk began to grow. 

Aziraphale was hesitant at first. He still didn’t like disobeying Heaven, but if he were to save more lives than intended, that cannot go against orders! At this point, he was more used to adjusting his plans. It was for Crowley mainly, but always found a reason that Heaven would approve. Slowly he returned a smile. 

“Alright! But we also have to stop by Dublin and meet up with a book collector. She has one of the original book copies of The Picture of Dorian Gray that I have been searching for. When I found out I had to go to Ireland, I figured it was the perfect opportunity. It shouldn’t take too long.” 

Crowley was fine with spending a little extra time. Might as well do something that makes Aziraphale happy as well. While not much of a reader himself, he finds himself relaxing and enjoying hearing the angel discuss novels and prophecies. 

“Alright, Angel. We can head out tomorrow.” 

---- 

The switch for the bombing was surprisingly easier than they had expected. While they did have to send a few people to sleep for the day, Crowley easily tempted the man in charge to go watch a local boxing match, because it’ll be so much easier. Why not? You can drink, yell, and support your country. No need to be drastic tonight. It’s too rainy anyway, who wants to be out in this? 

While Crowley tempted the man into something much calmer, Aziraphale removed the explosives in the Irishman’s flat. Simply made them disappear. Who knows what happened to them? Well, no need to worry now. 

The pair made their way to Dublin, quickly coming upon the bookseller’s shop. 

“This it?” 

“Yes. Though she doesn’t appear to be here.” Aziraphale wrung his hands together, searching through the window to see if there was any movement or light. 

Crowley rolled his eyes and leaned against the door frame. Honestly, he was fine with waiting with Aziraphale. But had to keep up appearances, ya know?

About two hours and a thousand little quips later, the bookseller came around the corner. 

“Ah, you must be Mr. Fell! Sorry to keep you waiting.” She stated as she walked up the few steps to unlock the door and let them inside. 

“It’s no problem at all.” They followed, Crowley looking to Aziraphale and giving him a mocking look. 

“No problem at all,” he mimicked Aziraphale’s tone, quietly. In response, Aziraphale shot him a look of do you have to do that right now? 

Crowley smiled wide. Aziraphale sighed and walked faster to follow the woman. Crowley liked irritating him. 

---- 

What Crowley thought would be a quick drop-by to pick up the book grew into an afternoon of tea. Crowley sat, not talking, as the two discussed the book and others she had to offer. Aziraphale couldn’t resist the other rare books, ending up with a pile of six to bring back.

Crowley finally got the look across to the angel that they should leave. Aziraphale thanked her for the hospitality and the multiple books. He gave her a little extra money in appreciation and she welcomed him back anytime. 

When they were outside and the door was closed, Crowley looked to Aziraphale. 

“What?” The angel asked, a little oblivious. 

Crowley didn’t say anything. Just shook his head and walked down the steps and into the street. 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and slowly followed. He did appreciate him staying as long as he did. 

“You know, I have always appreciated your acts and mindset, I think that you really…” Aziraphale said joyously as he caught up to Crowley. 

“Don’t say it,” Crowley said, flatly. 

Aziraphale’s smile remained. “Really, Crowley. What you did yesterday and…” 

Crowley moved and grabbed the front of Aziraphale’s shirt with one hand. The books remained in his hands, Crowley subconsciously making sure they remained intact. 

“Will you stop. I can’t be that.” he gritted his teeth as he threw the words at the angel. He let go, Aziraphale falling slightly. Crowley had not realized he lifted him up. 

He walked ahead. He had to keep a front on for the sake of Hell, but inside his emotions screamed and sprinted across his mind. 

Aziraphale watched him walk away for a second. Part of him wishes he didn’t let go. Part of him loves this little game, but part of him wants all or nothing. 

“Come on, Angel. We got a boat to catch.” Crowley yelled from over his shoulder. Aziraphale caught up to him again. They talked and acted like nothing happened. 

----

They returned to England’s coast, finding the Bentley within the car park. It was late, but they didn’t have anywhere else to go, so they simply took off. 

Once settled in the car, Aziraphale began to read through some of the books he acquired. He became so engrossed in them, lost in a new world. He didn’t notice the stars or the sprawling landscape, and he definitely didn’t notice Crowley looking at him. 

Crowley admired. Admired the angel who loved his books so much, who was always willing to help, and who didn’t fear him. He decides not to resist what he feels right now. He’ll simply drive and let his emotions open up a little within him. Maybe it would bring clarity. Maybe he’ll understand why they continue to dance around each other. Maybe he can find peace with that. 

Open up your mind and let me step inside 

Damn this car. He knows he just opened up but is accompanying music necessary? 

Rest your weary head and let your heart decide 

Well, it’s unlikely Aziraphale will notice right now, so he accepts the song. And damn if it doesn’t fit his thoughts. 

He loves this game, the little chase, and the pining. But he is also desperate for what the angel thinks, feels. He can only hope it’s the same. One thought says yes, he loves you. Another says how could he? He tries to come to a compromise. He may love him, but can’t because of outside forces. Heaven, and all that. Still, he questions his own thoughts. He’ll never know until the angel tells him. 

It’s a free world, all you have to do is fall in love 

Ugh, Somebody, he wishes it were that easy. Humans were lucky to have complete free will. 

Driving me insane 

That exactly what his head is doing. All these thoughts, he can barely have one coherent thought because of the entire marathon occurring within his brain. 

He just let them all race. No use sorting them out now, nothing was going to happen anyway. Maybe he’ll find a distraction and he’ll forget about it for a while. But damn, his mind always finds a way back to Aziraphale. 

Everybody play the game of love 

Crowley takes a deep breath and looks to Aziraphale again. Still blissfully unaware of the war within his head. He remains stuck in the fictional world of whatever other books that bookseller convinced him to spend his money on. 

He may judge, but it is nice to see him like this. Not so worried, not so cautious. He sits in peace with a book between his hands. Calm, yet passionate about whatever words sit in front of him. Crowley finds his own peace at the sight. His shoulders sit a little lower and his cloud of thoughts clears a little. 

They make the rest of the way home in peaceful quiet. The Bentley offers some quiet background noise and Aziraphale pipes up every once in a while to share a line or little fact about the novels in his lap. 

Maybe he can stick with this game. It is calm and comfortable. He can always be home with the angel. 

after the bandstand - 2019 

Aziraphale left first. Crowley was alone, standing in the middle of the bandstand. He watched as Aziraphale walked away, not able to move. Of course, this sort of thing had happened before. Hereditary enemies and we can’t be friends was a typical conversation topic between the two. But this time, with Armageddon about to happen, he felt the dismissal a little more. There was a bit of hope at the beginning, of going off together. But it was lost soon after, as it usually was. 

Crowley finally dragged his feet back to the Bentley, fell into the driver’s seat, and laid his head on the wheel as he turned the engine on.  

The Bentley was silent at first, as though it was making sure the song fit. 

Then those familiar notes hit Crowley’s ears. 

He thinks back to a concert, the raw emotion coming from Freddie and Brian as the audience becomes a duet partner. There, he could only think of Aziraphale. Think of the love he had but could never really give the angel. Whether that was because he was a demon or because he feared rejection is still debated. He wants to share himself fully with the angel, but there is always something holding it back. 

Love of my life, you’ve hurt me

With his head still down, his eyes slide to the radio. He tries to scowl, but he can’t. 

He so wishes he could take off, leave the doomed world behind him. But alone? 

He remembers those little smiles, tempting him into helping. He is always aware but can never resist. He thinks of dinners, listening to the passionate monologues about books, food, and the most recent miracle. He tries to ignore the thoughts of magic tricks, but he can’t make the little smile muscles to relax. Every drunken night, every meal he waits, every moment of catching up. He doesn’t want any of these to be just a distant memory. 

Don’t take it away from me

He continues to sit in his car, thinking of seemingly every little thing from their life together. While he is in pain now, he never thinks of a painful memory. He remembers every so-called “chance” meeting and souvenir, every weird outfit, and that same hair throughout the six thousand years. 

Don’t take it away from me 

He forces himself back up and whips out of the parking spot. No need to wallow in the memories, might as well just move on. At least, the exterior can do that. Internally, he’ll continue to overanalyze and think of the past and possible future; so long as the whole ‘end of the world’ doesn’t happen. 

I will be there at your side 

Well, if this is all going to burn, might as well burn together. And maybe it won’t happen, you can never know with God, and with humans. She may be Almighty, but humans have come up with so many other solutions (and problems); a few of them could figure out how to stop The End. So he takes a sharp turn to make his way to Soho. 

Love of my life… 

Yeah, he fucking knows. He’s been pining for this long, surely he can make it a few more days (or years, depending). Either way, he knows he can’t leave and won’t ever leave. So, he makes his way to apologize and hopefully figure it out. Whether the “it” is the end of the world or his emotions, well, maybe flip one of Aziraphale’s “magic” coins to find out. 

the first night - 2019

Didn’t go down like a lead balloon this time. It was false alarmageddon, and they had survived. Maybe the would die within the next few days for, you know, treason and such. But at least the world hadn’t died for the sake of some stupid war.  

Now Crowley was exhausted, the combination of his imagination holding the car together, stopping time, and dealing with Satan’s wrath really did a number on him. Aziraphale also felt that fatigue, but he also contemplated the last prophecy from Agnes Nutter. So the pair simply sat in silence on the way back to London. 

Aziraphale had agreed to stay at Crowley’s. Crowley heaved a sigh of relief when he agreed. Aziraphale offered him a small smile, giving Crowley just a bit more energy. They would need to figure out what that prophecy meant and what to do about their sides, but also they needed sleep. They needed a break. The week had been damn long enough. 

Crowley may also want to admit to his love, but maybe that can wait. 

Arriving in London, they made their way over and up to Crowley’s flat. He opened the door and simply walked in, not thinking about another’s reaction to the place. 

“Oh, Crowley. Is this really your place?” Aziraphale asked, concerning consuming his voice. 

“Uuh, er, yeah.” He said mindlessly. 

“Well, uh, it’s very clean.” 

Crowley gave the wall a look at that comment. He didn’t want to direct it at Aziraphale, but he still judged the judgment coming from the angel. 

“It just reminds me of somewhere, that’s all.” Aziraphale knew Crowley had a look on his face, it’s the same one he makes when Aziraphale does magic. 

Crowley turned, curiosity blooming on his face. “Where, exactly, might I ask?” 

“Oh! Ah… Heaven.” 

Oh. 

Aziraphale made that face he does when he’s hiding his feelings. A little smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. The look that tries to protect someone else’s feelings. But it doesn’t work on Crowley. 

“Angel…” 

“No, it’s fine. Maybe some tea?” 

Crowley points toward the kitchen. There isn’t a lot there, but he has tea; every good British home does. He watches as Aziraphale walks away, trying to figure out a way to make him more comfortable. Maybe at least a couch? That should be simple enough. 

He thinks to any couch, maybe one he saw on tv. Ah, yes, that should work. He snaps, a simple black couch appearing on the wall behind the desk. It’s comfortable enough. Should help make this place a little more acceptable. 

Aziraphale reappears with two cups of tea. Crowley accepts his and takes a seat on the couch. The angel sits on the other side and they sit in silence for a moment, appreciating the tea and quiet. 

Well, Crowley’s thoughts are taking over. Maybe now is the time to say something. What better time? They almost died, they still might die later. The first was a gift, the second is the possibility of losing him. He can’t let go without saying something. What’s the harm? He’s pretty sure he loves him back, but that may be that piece of hope taking the wheel. He knows he can wait longer, he’s gone this long, so why not? Well, no controlling his mouth now. He takes off his glasses, no controlling his body either. If he’s gonna bare himself, might as well go all out. 

“Angel, there’s something…” 

“Wait.” 

Crowley gives him a stunned look, waiting for those next words. 

Aziraphale takes a breath and puts his mug down. “After today, I feel that there is something I should tell you.” He pauses, stabilizing himself. “I love you. And not in that all-encompassing way. But in an in-love way. The human way of I’m in love with you and I can’t let go of you. I thought I was going to lose you and I don’t know what I would have done. I know you’re still a demon and I don’t know how it works but I just needed you to know. I love you, and I have for a long time.” 

Aziraphale turns his head to look at Crowley. Fear what reaction may come. Anticipate a reciprocation. That may have sounded better in his head, but he can’t really control himself right now. But he also didn’t care, he simply needed him to know. 

Crowley maintained a stunned look. All function has stopped within his head and body. 

“Crowley?” The angel asked quietly. 

Crowley’s face softened for a moment, enough to tell Aziraphale the world. 

In a flash, Crowley leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. It was too quick for Aziraphale to react physically, but his mind clawed and screamed for more. Crowley pulled a few inches away, staring into his eyes. A few seconds pass before Aziraphale leans back in. Crowley places a hand on his cheek, guiding him through the constellations of his mind. Every loving thought, every emotion poured into Aziraphale as the kiss deepened. Aziraphale grabs his arms, losing his grip on the real world and slipping into the endless sky. Crowley feels every emotion directed at him. 

It is unbelievable. He may have hoped, dreamed for this moment, but even his imagination could not match the real thing. He was given the world and tried to give the rest of the universe back. He loved and was loved. Nothing else mattered. Absolutely nothing else. 

After the angel’s words, he could not form his own. He always showed love through acts anyway, and hopefully, this one works just as well. 

About to lose their breaths, they pulled only centimeters away. Breath mingled and foreheads connected. Crowley’s hands remained on his face and neck while Aziraphale gently squeezed both of Crowley’s forearms. 

They looked to each other, smiles growing. 

Crowley took a moment to think of the right words, knowing the angel would want to hear them. He wanted something poetic, something Shakespeare would steal (again). But that would take too long. He just went with his heart. 

Just barely above a whisper, “I love you too. More than every star, every year, and every thought I’ve had. I’ve loved you for 6000 years, and I will love you for the rest of time. Even after, I’ll still love.” 

Aziraphale closed his eyes, a small tear squeezing out. Crowley gently moved a finger to catch it. He then leaned in to kiss his cheek with the same, painful carefulness. 

After a while, intermingled with gentle kisses all over each other’s faces and necks, they moved to Crowley’s bed. Both exhausted, but so grateful to be here, with each other. Crowley cuddled into Aziraphale’s side, wanting to wrap himself around and never letting go. Aziraphale happily complied, mindlessly dragging his fingers across Crowley’s skin like this is where they are always meant to be. But soon, Aziraphale’s mind returned to the future. And he needed a promise. 

“They will come for us.” 

“I know.” 

“Can you promise we’ll find a way?” 

Crowley paused, but not because the next line will be a lie. But because he was ready to dedicate himself. 

“Yes, angel. I promise.” 

He placed a kiss just under Aziraphale’s jaw, calming the bit of tension that had built up. 

“But let’s think about that tomorrow.” 

---- 

48 hours later, the promise was kept. They sat side-by-side in each other’s skin. 

Crowley couldn’t get the image of Aziraphale dying by hellfire out of his head. Aziraphale thanked and thanked Agnes Nutter for the words. Both couldn’t face the idea of what would have happened. 

But here they were, safe. Maybe that safety wouldn’t last long, but it didn’t matter right now. 

So they switched back and continued their usual banter, usual routine. It may be a little different now with the love and the promise kept, but Crowley didn’t want to move too fast this time. Simply wanted to enjoy it. 

“Can I tempt you to a spot of lunch?” 

“Temptation accomplished.” Aziraphale wiggled and the two gladly walked toward the Bentley. Luckily they met at a park near Crowley’s place so they could drive over to the Ritz. 

Crowley walked Aziraphale over to his side of the car and opened the door for him. Aziraphale smiled and grazed the hand that was holding the top of the door. Crowley slightly blushed, not sure when he would be used to this life. He walked to the driver’s side, got in, and started up the engine. 

I was born to love you

This is the first time Crowley had heard the Bentley play this song. The blush remained, but a smile grew. He could finally begin to accept this love. While the Bentley was still cocky, he finally appreciated a love song in its entirety. After Crowley switched into gear he offered his hand. Aziraphale had a smile on his face and gladly took it. He squeezed, sending Crowley’s heart ablaze. 

I’m caught in a dream and my dream’s come true 

Crowley lifted their joined hands to his mouth and placed a kiss on the angel’s hand. He didn’t look over, afraid even his imagination couldn’t control the car when his emotions were this strong. But he felt the look of love on Aziraphale’s face. 

Every single day of my life 

Every single day. Crowley will love and give and give and give. Never take it for granted, never let it go. 

With every single beat of my heart 

Aziraphale can feel the love radiating. He had felt something before but had felt it through his whole life on Earth he never thought about it. Assumed it was just, there. But now he realized it was directed at him, becoming more clear after sharing. This feeling was his home; he was always more comfortable around Crowley, even when he couldn’t admit it to himself or anyone else. He never wanted it to fade. 

They soon arrived at the Ritz and lost contact only to get out of the car. They quickly reconnected, walking happily into the Ritz to the miraculously open table for two. 

an anniversary - 2029

They laid side-by-side in the field close to their cottage. Ten years. Ten years since the world almost ended, ten years since their trials, and ten years since they admitted their love. They figured this was the easiest time to celebrate an anniversary, even with the 6000 years behind them and countless more ahead. 

They had had a picnic for dinner, something that had become a regular occurrence. But this time they stayed through the sunset and into the night, stargazing. 

The pair laid as close as possible, hands holding tightly and legs beginning to mingle and wrap. They had been there for hours but couldn’t fathom the thought of leaving yet. 

Crowley would randomly point out a certain constellation or tell a little story about creating the stars. Aziraphale would turn his head to watch him talk so passionately about the sky. Maybe he’d heard that story 20 times by now, but he really didn’t care. He could listen over and over and still love it.

When he’d finish, Aziraphale would lean over and kiss his cheek. Crowley would respond by wrapping himself a little tighter around his angel. He would smile to himself and Aziraphale would feel a little pulse of love. 

Crowley had finally gotten to a point of accepting this and fully embracing it (and embracing the angel, almost all the time). While still a little shocked this was his life, this dream he could only hope for, he had realized it was reality. He could love him openly and be loved back. That little piece that said you’re not worthy finally faded and nearly disappeared. 

He couldn’t and wouldn’t let go. And he knew his angel would do the same.

Soon, they began to hear a piece of music float through the air towards them. Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale, but he was just as confused. Not wanting to move from their position, they both moved their heads around to try and find the source. 

Crowley looked behind him, realizing it was coming from the Bentley. 

When Aziraphale realized Crowley stopped moving, he looked and followed his line of sight. 

They both stared curiously for a moment, trying to figure out how it was happening. Soon enough, they looked at each other and simply accepted it. 

The Bentley had taken to Crowley’s emotions. Tonight, they were just so powerful, both on his own and mixed with the angel’s, that it needed to play something. 

It chose the piano version of Forever. Its melody fit within the moment, filling the air with a light but powerful tone. 

But the words that accompanied the original fit just perfectly. 

Touch my world with your fingertips 

And we can have forever 

Forever is our today.  

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Guess who tried to put every headcanon and idea about these two I love into one story!! It’s me !!!  

Partly inspired by the car art by @ymmish 

Inspired by some of my favorite Queen songs, as well as ones that were Too Powerful to put in the show but you Know the Bentley loved to play them. 

Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

Play The Game 

Love of my Life 

I was Born to Love You - Piano and Vocal version 

Forever - Piano version 

I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to send any comments my way, I would love to hear anything! I haven’t done fanfiction in a while, but Good Omens has taken over my life too much for me to not write something. 

I hope these people don’t mind, but I want to get this out there, especially to the few writers or creators I admire: @in3ffable-husbands @thegoodomensdumpster @goodomensblog

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale

[disasterdeacy]

Too Much Love Will Kill You Chapter One

A/N: Okay, so a few of you seemed to like the prologue, so here is Chapter One! I’m not too sure how I feel about this one, it took me a few days to write, and I am not the best at dialogue. If anyone wants to message me and bounce some ideas for the story with me, I would really appreciate it! I am super excited for this fic, and I hope y’all are too!

Pairing: Brian May x OC Disclaimer: Any mention of Chrissie in this fic is completely fictionalized for plot purposes, I personally love Chrissie, and I will never purposefully write her in a negative way!

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, married man flirting with a younger lady (sorry guys it has to happen for ~plot~)

Time Frame: 1985

 13 July 1985, 9:00am

 Saturday.

A day of recovery, a day of rest, a day when all of humanity intends to stay in bed until their bodies can no longer handle being useless. Charlotte Jones’ Saturday, however, wasn’t going that way at all. Currently the 21 year old was sat in the backseat of her uncle’s Royce, sunglasses slipping down her nose as she stared holes in the blond man beside her. An hour previous, her loving uncle had burst into her flat, sang “God Save the Queen” at the top of his lungs while yanking her tall frame from her incredibly comfortable bed, and into the cold air of her Pimlico flat. David noticed the look of disdain that his niece was giving him over her wayfarers, before chuckling and flicking her exposed knee. “Chin up buttercup, you’re going to have a great time.” Charlotte winced at the sharp pain, before laughing as she shoved her uncle into the door. “I know Dave, I know, some warning just would’ve been nice.” Her uncle laughed, and pulled Charlotte tight against his side, squeezing her much like he had when she was much younger. Charlotte was born when David was only 17, and ever since he held her for the first time, the two were inseparable. Seeing as how her parents weren’t really in the picture, David was mom, dad, brother, uncle, and best friend all rolled into one for the young woman. Had it not been for the curly haired woman flush against his side, David didn’t know where he would be. Lottie was the one who had given him the strength to stay alive and get sober, knowing that if he didn’t straighten himself out, his niece would have nobody to take care of or love her. She was the single most important person in his life, save for his son.

While Charlotte was acting annoyed at her uncle, she knew he meant well with this day. She had always loved music, especially her uncle’s. So, when David had burst into her apartment 3 months earlier, spouting off about this insane concert set up by Bob Geldof, she was unbelievably excited. The chance to see some of her favorite bands in one place, for a good cause above all else, was something that she was definitely interested in. However, with her thesis presentation happening on 12 July, she didn’t know if she would be able to attend, or want to depending on the results. But, the previous day had gone very well for Charlotte, her MA in Astronomy being awarded to her that very afternoon. Once her uncle heard, he immediately burst into her apartment, something she was beginning to realize he did an AWFUL lot, and the two spent the night listening to records and eating take away. This also meant that he was going to drag her to Wembley as early as possible, even though the concert didn’t start until 12. “Why did you drag me out of bed 4 hours before the first band performs? I could’ve gotten at least another hour of sleep out of this hangover.” Charlotte knew he had a reason, but he hadn’t revealed it yet. After all, he had even told her last night that he didn’t have to be at Wembley until close to 11:15. David looked down at his niece, something he wasn’t too used to as she was an inch or so taller than him, and smirked. “That my darling niece is a surprise.”

Charlotte took of her sunglasses, rolled her eyes and pushed herself away from her uncle, staring him down with her light brown eyes. “C’mon Dave, don’t play coy with me, you don’t arrive anywhere early unless you have a reason.” David rolled his mismatched eyes at Charlotte before putting his sunglasses on, his niece was a persistent little thing, but that was probably his own fault. “PLUS, you’ve made me dress like I’m going to be meeting the bloody queen David, we’re going to a concert not a garden party.” Charlotte was right about the way she was dressed. Where she normally would’ve been wearing high waisted jeans paired with a short sleeved printed shirt and a pair of converse, her uncle had forced her into a sleeveless grey and pink horizontal striped dress, with a matching sweater over top; and the shoes, the bloody shoes. Her uncle had managed to somehow force her into a pair of cream kitten heels she didn’t even remember buying, something she absolutely hated. One thing Charlotte was the most self conscious about was her above average height, and anytime that was accentuated, she felt like all eyes were on her. Her uncle knew this, and still insisted on the heels that added an extra inch to her already 5’11 height.

David opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the car stopping and the driver announcing that they had arrived at Wembley. Charlotte groaned at the interruption, and David laughed as he thanked Anthony and exited the car, attempting to pull his niece with him. “I got it I got it!” Charlotte shook her uncle’s hands off of her arms, grinning slightly at his enthusiasm. “Then come on Lottie! We’re holding up traffic” David placed his hands on his thin waist, staring down at the brunette in the car below him. He wasn’t wrong, the car line at the back of Wembley was steadily growing, and the sound of overpriced horns filled the air as Charlotte placed a heeled foot on the sidewalk below her. The blond man had completely abandoned his niece, tired of waiting for her to exit his car, and figuring that a woman smart enough to have a MA in Astronomy could figure out how to inside a building. Charlotte rolled her eyes at the sound, this is why she hated these events, her uncle’s friend’s were tolerable, but most celebrities she had had the misfortune of meeting were overgrown children with god complexes. Still, she knew this would make her uncle happy, so with a deep breath, exited the car fully, shutting the door completely behind her. Anthony playfully honked the horn as he drove away, giving Charlotte a small wave as she attempted to steady herself on the sidewalk. Once she was steady enough on her feet to walk, Charlotte made the short trek to the door where her uncle stood, cigarette hanging lazily from his lips. “Took ya long enough doll. I think you’ve managed to piss off half of U2 and you’ve only been here for 5 minutes.” He was right, of course, as she reached her uncle, Charlotte turned her head to face the car line she had been holding up. Sure enough, Bono and Adam Clayton were huffing and puffing as they exited their car, staring daggers into her. Charlotte rolled her eyes and thumped her uncle in the forehead, pushing past him and heading into the building. “I thought you stopped smoking.” David smirked and threw the butt to the ground, stomping out the remaining embers and following his curly haired niece. “I thought you were going to get a haircut.” Charlotte continued walking, only sticking a single finger up behind her at her uncle’s words. Her hair was something that she had always been self-conscious about growing up, it was dark, thick, and insanely curly. She could vividly remember the hours that she had sat in the floor of David’s various hotel rooms as he attempted to control the mop that sat atop her head, and try as he might he could never do much for the young girl. Even though his own hair was curly, it was nowhere near as thick as his niece’s, and to be honest he had absolutely no idea how to fix his own hair much less a young girl’s, but he was a quick learner. Eventually he had figured out the proper concoction of products to use on Charlotte’s hair, but not before she had been teased for it in school. As if the teasing for not having any parents, or being too tall, or being too smart, or being the niece of Ziggy Stardust wasn’t enough, the girls at her boarding school had to tease her hair and tease her she did. Poodle was a personal favorite insult of the girls in her class, but when she finally grew it out past her shoulders, the weight of the mop finally began to pull the curls down with it; not that it did much good, in fact it only made her curls more unruly. It was only in the past few years that she had grown to appreciate the curls she had, thanks to the sleek styles of the previous decade going out of style, and the very people who had once teased her hair were paying hundreds of dollars on perms to get their hair to look even a fraction like hers. It made her laugh every time she thought of it, there was no way in hell she was doing anything to her hair, it gave her far too much satisfaction

David laughed out loud at Charlotte’s obvious display of love and affection, picking up his pace to catch up with her. Her legs were longer than his own on any normal day, and with the added benefit of her heels, she was fully booking it down a hall in the opposite direction that she needed to be heading, and didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. She turned a corner and was soon out of his sight, causing him to sigh and follow her more.

Charlotte had absolutely no idea where she was going, and the hustle and bustle of the backstage area not helping her sense of direction in the slightest. She could take one look at the night sky in London and tell you exactly how to get to Cairo, but her sense of direction in everyday situations was honestly abysmal. However, there must have been some god above looking down on her in pity, because as she rounded the next corner, a door came into view with the words “ROYAL BOX AUTHORIZED PERSONEL ONLY” printed in large red letters across the surface. Throwing her hands in the air in thanks to whatever god had led her there, Charlotte hobbled to the door, her feet screaming for relief from the confines of their leather prison.

“Fucking heels.” She winced before propping herself on the door, moving to open her purse to pull her backstage pass from inside, knowing whoever was inside would more than likely want some sort of ID. Charlotte had just managed to free the laminated object from her purse when the door she was propped against opened, startling her and knocking her off of her feet. She clenched her eyes shut, partially resigned herself to her fate of completely busting her ass, accepting the fact that her lack of coordination was going to bruise more than just her ego. However, the only thing she felt as she fell backwards was a pair of arms wrapping themselves around her, preventing her from hitting the hard ground. Charlotte immediately dropped everything in her hands, wrapping them tightly around the shoulders of the saint who had managed to prevent her from embarrassing herself any further, her eyes wide and mouth agape in shock at the abruptness of the whole ordeal. The brunette looked from the ground, which had once been approaching her at a fast rate to the person who’s arms were completely wrapped around her waist, stunned to find herself looking into the most gorgeous pair of hazel eyes she’d ever seen, gorgeous eyes that she would know anywhere. “Are you alright love? Almost took a nasty fall right there.” Charlotte was struck dumb at the soft voice above her as she stared up, mouth slightly agape, into the very eyes that has stared back at her from the poster on her bedroom wall for the past 10 years of her life. Brian May hadn’t planned on being early to the royal box that day, in fact he had planned on spending a good 2 hours trying to convince John to join both Roger and himself in the box. However, John had staunchly refused the invitation, saying that if he was going to embarrass himself in front of the Prince and Princess of Wales, he was going to do it on stage in front of the entire world as well. Freddie was chatting with Elton, Roger was napping, Deacy was tuning his bass, and Brian was sipping a cup of tea in a patterned chair which sat on a horrible false grass carpet. He was incredibly bored, and if he didn’t do something soon, nobody would ever poke fun at his hair again, because there would be none left. This boredom left Brian with the choice of either sitting backstage alone for 2 hours, socializing with various celebrities, or finding his way up to the royal box to get settled before the chaos arose. He chose the latter, his legs begging to be used. Which is how he managed to stumble upon the young woman leaning against the door to the royal box. She was very tall, that was the first thing that Brian noticed about her, sure she was in heels, but even without the extra bit of help, she had to be at least as tall as Deacy. Brian stopped at the end of the hall, watching as the woman cursed as she fished though her purse. Her face was obscured from his view by a thick blanket of long curly hair, hair that he was immediately intrigued by. He had never seen a woman with hair that rivaled his own, even in recent years as the perm began to take over, he had yet to come across a woman with hair as gorgeous as the one that stood before him. He hadn’t realized that he had actually been walking towards her at a slower pace until he was only a few feet away from the mysterious woman, his hands in the pockets of his powder blue blazer. He was about to make a cheeky comment, when the door to the royal box suddenly swung open, knocking the young woman off her feet and her purse to the ground.   Brian didn’t even have a few seconds to react, and before he even really knew what was happening, there was a woman in his arms. A very very beautiful woman.

The impact had knocked her hair away from her face, sending the thick curls flowing behind her. This allowed for Brian to get his first good look at the woman, and what a look it was. Her light brown eyes were wide, obviously in shock at the turn of events, her pale skin was flushed, more than likely out of embarrassment, and her red painted lips were parted just slightly, the whole sight caused something to stir deep inside him, something he hadn’t felt in years. “Are you alright love? Almost took a nasty fall right there.” The words came out soft, as if he were afraid he would scare her away, not that she could exactly go anywhere, his arms were still around her preventing her from falling to the ground.

Charlotte’s hands loosened on Brian’s shoulders as she shook herself from her shock, and Brian regretfully loosened his own grip on her waist, slowly placing her back on her feet. “Um, yes. Thank you Mr. May.” While Brian’s own eyes were staring at the woman before him, a smile lighting up his face; Charlotte’s eyes were staring holes in the floor. She had never been this embarrassed in her entire life. Of all the people in the fucking world that could’ve witnessed that abysmal incident, it had to be Brian May. Bran. Fucking. May. The man who she had been head over heels in love with for 10 years. The man who her uncle teased her relentlessly about for years, she still hadn’t forgiven David for the whole “Under Pressure” incident. Charlotte was 100% positive that she was as red as a beet, a combination of her embarrassment at her fall, and the shock that she was meeting her idol, who also happened to be the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her entire life. He was dressed to the nines, a powder blue blazer and pants suit fit his tall frame perfectly, his infamous hair styled to perfection. It was honestly almost too much for her to handle, and when he crouched down on front of her, gathering the contents of her purse, she almost lost her balance again.

“It was absolutely no problem Ms..” Brian trailed off, hoping that the brunette in front of him would get the message and supply him with her name, but a voice from the other end of the hall beat him to it. “Charlotte Margaret Jones! I have been looking bloody near everywhere for you.” David was stood at the end of the hall, hands on his thin hips. The sight in front of him caused the blonde man to choke back a rather rude chuckle, Brian May was on his knees in front of his rather red faced niece, hands full with various pens, tampons, lipsticks, and Charlotte’s wallet, obviously there was a story here that he really couldn’t wait to hear. Brian almost dropped the items in his hands when he heard the unmistakable voice of David Bowie, and before he knew it the thin white duke himself was stood directly in front him and the young woman, Charlotte he now knew. Charlotte sighed, placing her hands on her own hips, ones that were far far wider than her uncle’s, he really had a thing for timing didn’t he. “Well Dave, if you would’ve told me where I needed to go before you abandoned me on the sidewalk, we wouldn’t be in this predicament now would we.” “Well Lottie, if I had done that, I highly doubt that you would have Brian May kneeling at your feet.” Charlotte gaped at her uncle, mouth and eyes wide at his insinuation. “DAVE!” David simply laughed, moving to ruffle his niece’s hair, immediately regretting the action when his rings became stuck in the wild mane that was Charlotte’s hair. Brian couldn’t help but blush at David’s words and laugh as the two struggled, throwing out curses at one another as they struggled to free David’s hand from Charlotte’s hair. He had finally managed to collect all of the belongings which had previously inhabited Charlotte’s purse, so Brian pulled himself off of the ground and decided to offer his services in detangling the rings. “Goddamnit Dave! How many times is it going to take you fucking up like this before you realize that its literally impossible to run hands through this mop, OW fuck! David, Just stop fucking struggling!” Charlotte had both of her hands wrapped around David’s wrist as the two struggled, wincing in pain as her uncle yanked and pulled. “Well sorry Lottie, its just so tempting.” David was chuckling at his niece’s annoyance, watching her curse and be annoyed at him was his favorite pastime.

Charlotte was too caught up in getting her uncle’s hands to notice the lanky man who had come up behind her, so she was rather surprised when she felt a cool pair of nimble fingers join in the fight for her hair’s freedom. “Can’t tell you how many times my little ones have gotten their hands stuck in my hair, its particularly bad when there’s a small car involved.”

Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh at loud, partially at the joke, but even more so at the sheer hilarity of the entire situation. Brian paused his ministrations at the sound that fell from Charlotte’s red mouth, her laugh was one of the most beautiful sounds he had heard in 38 years of life on Earth. “I understand, whenever I used to help Marion watch Zowie, he was so obsessed with my hair. This one time he managed to get an entire jar of peanut butter into it while I napped. Smelled like a bloody primary school lunchroom for a week, no matter how hard I washed.” Charlotte laughed at the memory, she had only been 13 at the time, her younger cousin only 6. The two little Joneses had laughed and laughed once Charlotte had realized what her little cousin had done, and they still laugh about it today, especially when they see a jar of peanut butter. Brian and David both threw their heads back in laughter at the young woman’s story, and the fact that Brian was the only one who was attempting to detangle the duo. Charlotte had long since given up on her quest to free herself, fully resigning the safety and health of her hair to Brian’s expert fingers. Even though she knew that his fingers were only in her hair to remove her uncle, whenever they would softly graze her scalp, or push a rogue curl from his view, her heart would pound like she had just ran the bloody London marathon. He pulled a little too hard, and Charlotte winced, turning her head slightly as Brian whispered a raspy apology into her ear. She could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck, and before she knew what was happening, Brian’s free hand had come to rest on the small of her back. Charlotte froze, her breath freezing in her throat. He was just trying to steady himself, get a better hold on her uncle’s hand. At least that’s what she told herself.

“That’s just the luck us luscious locked individuals have my dear, as beautiful as our hair is, it might as well be a goddamn hoover with as much as it picks up.” Brian was intently concentrating on the garnet ring that was keeping David tied to the woman, his other hand resting on the small of the young woman’s back. He hadn’t meant for that to happen, but it did, and if he were being honest, he didn’t mind in the slightest. “I know right? I can store bloody digestives in there if I try hard enough.” Charlotte felt a slight tug on her head again as Brian whispered a soft apology, and then suddenly she was free. David breathed an overdramatic sigh of relief, kissing his newly freed hand. “Oh thank you for freeing my favorite hand Brian, how will I ever repay you.?” Brian and Charlotte both rolled their eyes, giving David identical looks of mild annoyance laced with amusement. “Well, you could start by introducing me to this lovely young lady who you seem to have assaulted with your gaudy hand.” Charlotte glanced over at Brian as she attempted to fix her hair to the best of her ability, his words making her face turn red once more.

David gauged his niece’s reaction, and smirked. “Well Brian, if you must know, this lovely young lady is my niece Charlotte.” David threw his arm around Charlotte’s shoulders, pinching her cheek as she winced and attempted to push him off of her. “I was planning on introducing the two of you after we got settled in the box, but someone,” he threw Charlotte an annoyed look, “had to run off and find you herself. Shouldn’t be too surprised by that though, after all she’s had a pos..” David didn’t get a chance to finish his statement before Charlotte had slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent anymore of his overexcited words to come spilling out. “Thank you Dave, I appreciate the introduction, but that’s enough now.” Charlotte slowly removed her hand from her uncle’s mouth, shooting him a glare that had the power of 1,000 suns behind it. Brian May would never find out about that damn poster. Brian laughed at Charlotte’s reaction, sticking his large hand out in front of her. “Well Charlotte, its very nice to officially meet you. I’m Brian.” Charlotte grinned at the curly haired man in front of her, taking his hand in her own, reveling in his cool touch. She genuinely couldn’t believe that this was happening to her. “Oh I’m very well aware of who you are Mr. May, and please call me Charlie, all my friends do.” She sent him a wink, her smile growing as a slight pink flush overtook his face. The young woman’s confidence was obviously rising, and Brian really liked it. “She’s been a fan for as long as you four have been pumping out music, still hasn’t forgiven me for not telling her about Under Pressure.” David had picked Charlotte’s purse up from the ground and began to place her discarded items back inside, completely oblivious to the interaction going on behind him.

If he had had any idea whatsoever of the events that were going to occur in the coming months, he probably would’ve grabbed Charlotte by the collar of her dress and locked her in a dressing room as far from Brian May as humanly possible, but for now he was simply oblivious to the burgeoning relationship that was taking place before his very eyes. Brian’s eyes were still locked on Charlotte’s, hazel boring into brown, an intensity in them that had not been there for quite some time, he knew it was wrong. This young woman was no older than 21, absolutely beautiful, and in just the few moments he had known her, had made him feel more alive than Chrissie had in years. He needed to stop, to walk away, and think about the consequences that the thoughts in his mind could have, but he couldn’t. There was just something about her, something that made his blood boil in the best possible way. He was just about to say something to the young woman when David interrupted yet again, this time to inform the two that they needed to head into the box. Charlotte stood frozen in place at David’s words, she had to meet Diana. Fuck.

“Dave, there is absolutely no way I can meet Princess Diana, no way dude. No fucking way.” She took her purse from David, placing the lanyard with her clearance around her neck. David rolled his eyes, something he always seemed to do whenever his niece was in his presence. “Well tough shit Lottie, you’re going to. Now c’mon, we have seats we need to take before people start crowding.” He lit another cigarette as he sent Charlotte a wink as he brushed past her, heading to the very door which had caused her so much grief. Brian looked over at Charlotte, his eyebrow raised in questioning. She just sighed and reached into her purse to pull out a tic-tac pack, popping it open and shaking as many of those little orange bastards into her mouth as she could. He could only laugh at the actions of the young woman in front of him, surprised by the sheer amount of tic-tacs she had just dropped into her mouth. “Any particular reason why you don’t think you can meet the Princess today love?” The term of endearment slipped from his mouth before he even knew what had happened, and he hoped that Charlotte was much too occupied with her tic-tacs to notice his little slip up. He was in luck. “I’m not cute enough to meet Diana today Brian, not cute enough any day to meet someone as gorgeous as that. I mean, how the hell is someone that pretty?” Charlotte was shoving the case back in her purse as the two made their way to the door of the box, groaning in dread at the thought of embarrassing herself “And, I just KNOW I’m going to do something dumb, like call her the wrong name, or forget to call her your highness, or something stupid like that and then fucking Princess Diana of Wales, future queen of fucking England is going to hate me for the rest of my natural life.” They had reached the door, and by this point Brian was thoroughly entertained by the woman before him, his conflict growing every time she opened her mouth to speak. Before he even knew what he was doing, he opened his mouth and began to speak. “Well dear, I think you look absolutely stunning, the Princess will be in very good company today with someone as beautiful as you near her.” He immediately regretted his words as Charlotte whipped her head over to him, one single perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised as if questioning everything he had just said. It was only when she smiled, her red lips parting to allow a clear view at her beautiful teeth, that Brian knew he hadn’t overstepped any boundaries. “Mr. May, if you keep flattering me like that, I might never let you leave.” She winked again, heading through the door of the box, security checking her lanyard as she went. He didn’t respond, he only swallowed the feeling of elation that overtook his body at her words, and followed her steps, taking a seat beside her.   This was going to be a long day. 

TAGS:  @coveredinpostcards

#brian may fanfiction #brian may x reader #queen #queen fanfiction #brian may imagine #brian may x oc #brian may x you #bohemian rhapsody #gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #david bowie #roger taylor #john deacon #freddie mercury #bohemian rhapsody fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody imagine #my writing #fanfiction

[ssironstrange]

endgame rant

SPOILERS AHEAD PLEASE AVOID IF YOU HAVENT SEEN IT YET

yeah i know i said i wouldn’t post spoiler shit but listen i gotta get this off my chest ok

i have some REAL BIG FUCKING ISSUES with the way the russos handled a lot of plotlines. don’t get me wrong, this movie was amazing and epic and fucking award worthy, but as a fan i’ve taken offense to a Lot of things.

clint

nothing about his ronin story makes a lick of fucking sense in the mcu. his family is dusted so he…… goes on a mass murdering spree??? decides that he should get a haircut and spend the next five years getting an edgy tattoo sleeve??? um. okay then. destroy the past like 10 years of his character having one of the best moral compasses of the entire team. why did he take up using a fucking SWORD in present day? do you know how long it takes to master swordsmanship at the level he was? with at least half of the world’s teachers gone? more than five fucking years thats for damn sure. and between him and natasha dying for the soul stone? it should have been him. i know he had a family and all but listen. nat went through physical and psychological torture. her body was modified against her will. she was brainwashed and used. and finally, FINALLY she gets free of it all, finds a family in the avengers, and continues to try and better herself to make up for things that weren’t even her fault to begin with. and clint? what did he suffer? oh thats right. nothing. he’s just damn good at his job and loves his family. the fact he has a family sucks for sacrifice, but they are well taken care of and every single one of his kids are old enough to understand AND nat would have stepped in immediately as a parental figure to help laura. they fucking fridged nat for clint and i will never forgive that.

thor

here we go. thor’s character legit made me uncomfortable. they went way overboard with the new thor personality. but… fatshaming and making fun of his very real depression and ptsd?? wtf russos. like, haha he let himself go so funny but its NOT. he wasn’t even like…. fat, for one. just a normal dadbod and beer belly. which by the way seems a lot more realistic according to most norse myths of the gods. they were warriors, yeah, but they drank a fucking lot and feasted a fucking lot so. anyway. thor has lost his entire family. not only that but he watched them all die. he saw his mother bleed out. he watched his father disperse into nothingness. he watched the brother he has loved and cherished no matter the amount of times of betrayal and misdeeds get his neck snapped and his lifeless body thrown to the ground. and then the sister he never knew he had killing almost all of your people and then being forced to find a way to kill her. can you imagine trying to cope with that??? and when you put his age into our perspective, he’s only in his 20s. so imagine seeing your whole family die before you’re even 25, then taking on the responsibility of ruling your people. said surviving people are then massacred in front of you with only a few dozen escaping. THEN living with the guilt of blowing your chance to kill the man responsible for that and unable to stop him from decimating half the universe. (and even when he does get revenge on him, it’s too late) tell me you wouldn’t have an atomic level meltdown. thor is suffering so much and all they can do is make fun of him for it and shame him for it. he deserved better.

steve

yall know i don’t like steve. i don’t hate him and i’m not anti-steve, i’ve just never enjoyed his rather inconsistent character and self-righteousness. it felt like we were FINALLY getting a steve i could get behind in this. a steve that swears like he should. a steve who still puts on a brave face for the public but behind closed doors with friends he’s miserable and broken like the rest of them and SHOWS it to them. a steve who realizes he is stuck in the past and just can’t seem to move forward. a steve who i can finally see the culmination of EVERYTHING he’s been through resting on his shoulders and eating him alive inside. finally we were getting a properly layered steve rogers. and then tony came back and that all fell apart. we didn’t get the apology steve owed him (and tbh tony owed him one too but we’ll get to that), we didn’t get a remorseful steve. he didn’t even address the goddamn issue. he went straight back to his bullshit. admittedly he was a better listener this time around and a far better team player overall. it wasn’t a total loss. but. BUT. his ending? no. hell fucking no. i’m happy he and peggy got their life, but it still shouldn’t have happened. how fucking selfish. how fucking backwards of his character. i get he didn’t have a choice in being brought back into the present and that is unfair and sucks for him, but what fucking right did he have to mess with a timeline like that? what right did he have to just decide without telling anyone he was done and giving up? why did he get the fucking happy ending???? steve rogers who looked tony in the eyes and said he wasn’t the kind of man to lay on the wire for someone copped out. steve rogers who knows of all the social progress we’ve made decides to go back to a time where he would be forced to accept segregation and extreme gender inequality and rampant, blatant, gross racism of all sorts oh and more war and alkjdalksdhkas NO plus they broke their own time travel rules so like whatever i guess right?? it’s okay if steeb gets his stupid happy ending right? god is it SO MUCH TO ASK FOR JUST ONCE TO HAVE A GOOD CHARACTERIZATION OFCAP???? it’s not your fault cevans honey you’re doing amazing your directors just have no fucking idea 

tony

frankly this has been amongst rdj’s best performances of tony. i’m still partial to a lot of his acting in the iron man movies BUT this was FANTASTIC. him finally being allowed to absolutely go off on steve was fucking delicious and everything i was waiting for. let it all out tony baby. buuuuut we should have also had something more. i know my fellow tony stans typically don’t believe it but tony was wrong in civil war too. surprise they both fucking were. ANYWAY. i was waiting for an honest apology between them both. after everything they just went through, NONE of the petty bullshit they went through before matters at all. and yet the closest thing we get is tony just being like “turns out i don’t like to hold grudges” or what the fuck ever. why is it so hard just to make one of them say i’m sorry, the other say i’m sorry, admit it was a bunch of BULLSHIT hug it out and then go forward???? ugh. their choice to make tony suddenly care about his dad and be happy to see him???? disgusting. they made it canon that howard was an abuser, neglectful, cold, and hateful. it’s been a BIG DEAL how tony has struggled with the relationship to his dad because of how shitty the man was to him. and then they do tHAT? fuuuuCK that!!!! i’m not saying tony isn’t allowed to forgive howard. thats fine and expected tbh. but they pushed it way too far. the tony stark we’ve known for the last decade would never get all giddy and happy to see him and hug him and fucking thank him??? what the fuckk?? god that was gross. you know what we should have gotten? what tony deserved more than howard fucking stark? MARIA STARK!! and then, of course, my main issue. they fucking killed him. which only tells us, the audience and fans that no matter what you suffer and sacrifice that your only way to redemption is death. jesus fucking christ i am SO angry over this. they killed the two who suffered the fucking most. the two who every single goddamn day worked on being a better person. nat and tony both deserved so much better than waht they got. how the fuck did it make sense to kill tony who now has a fucking CHILD, who still has a future, who FINALLY FOR ONCE IN HIS FUCKING LIFE FOUND A SHRED OF PEACE????? and then let steve just go selfishly galavant through time as he pleases to have the cute happy ending? FUCK that ending. fuck it right up the ass with a huge unlubed cock. steve should have been the one to use the gauntlet. period. he should have been the one to die like that. i would have still fucking cried but you know what?? that would be the most cap thing ever. i wanted a mirror of pre-serum steve jumping on that grenade, but this time grabbing the gauntlet and not hesitating for a split second to snap. but no. they killed tony who left behind a wife who DESERVED MORE THAN HAVING THE MAN SHES LOVED AND SUPPORTED AND MARRIED AND HAS A CHILD WITH RIPPED AWAY FROM HER!!! tony who left behind a daughter too young to really comprehend yet why her daddy isn’t going to be coming back. fuck you russos. the injustice of it is astounding. i’m never going to get over it. you know how they could have killed tony? if they really felt like they needed to? have him grow old and die naturally of old age with pepper in their cute little lakeside house after watching morgan grow into such a strong and brilliant person. but oh. they gave that to steve. right.

stephen

i’ll never complain about having more stephen content but uhhhh i’m gonna complain that we didn’t get more than what we got cause after sitting in the soulworld for five fucking years you canNOT tell me he didn’t get even stronger with time to practice and meditate and work through every iota of information of mystical shit in his head. and yet they sidelined him??? after we’ve SEEN what he’s capable of in IW? just gonna put him on flood control???? something that any of those goddamn sorcerers could have done while he helps wipe the floor with thanos or any of the thousands of enemies? fuuuuuuuuuck that. can you fucking imagine how quickly thanos would have been taken out if it were wanda, carol, and stephen all three against him? jesus. he’s literally amongst the most powerful people but nah, just have him stand over there.

the gay russo

FUCK you for that. i am LIVID about it. yall can’t fucking make valkyrie bi???? or carol????? yall can’t GET AN ACTUAL GAY ACTOR? “ We felt it was important that one of us play him, to ensure the integrity and show it is so important to the filmmakers that one of us is representing that. “ WHAT????????? are you fucking telling me a WOC WHO IS OUT AS BISEXUAL AND WANTS HER CHARACTER TO BE BISEXUAL COULDNT ENSURE THE INTEGRITY OF AN LGBT CHARACTER???????????????? “ It is a perfect time, because one of the things that is compelling about the Marvel Universe moving forward is its focus on diversity.”  SEE PREVIOUS COMMENT????? oh my god fuck them forever.

lets make rules for our time travel then break them immediately

idek whats going on in the timeline anymore. they utterly fucked up and BROKE the timeline of 2012 avengers after letting loki get away with the tesseract. which should have cascaded into their future but, well, it didn’t. so i GUESS now we’re just pretending that made a new timeline which makes no goddamn sense but whatever i guess. steve going back to completely fuck with his timeline, or a timeline at least, and having no consequences in the future besides being old. okay. sure??? we can do all that but we can’t fucking get natasha back. right. cool. okay.

anyway i’m sure theres more bugging me but these are the things bothering me most.

and frankly i don’t care if anyone disagrees i’m not arguing or debating any of this. 

#endgame

[jetfuel-cantmeltsteelbeams]

...- From your own hellfire.

Jaxon leaned his shoulder against the cold metal of the lift as it ground from floor to floor, resting his throbbing head as his eyes slowly registered the passing of lights through the grate. He’d never been so tired in his life, juggling so many masks was beginning to wear on him. The age of his bones was beginning to seep in, reminding him that he wasn’t built to move forever. But everywhere he looked, a new war required his attention, so he went. And went, and went, and went. He wondered idly if it would ever end, if he’d ever find peace again or if he’d lived through the allotted amount he was to be given in this life. If he’d die in this war.

His mulling was cut short as the lift jolted to a halt, and his hands moved from memory to pull it open. The key was in his hand without thought- it had been about six years of coming here, taking every opportunity to visit the cold Atlanta apartment.

He knew the suspicions his wife kept close to her heart, resulting in the walls she’d thrown up in their relationship. Ultimately, these visits had probably brought about the end of their love. But it was his silence that had buried their marriage half a decade ago- that, he couldn’t blame on anyone but himself.

Jaxon’s eyes didn’t stray around the front rooms of the spacious apartment, knowing nothing would be moved from the last time he’d come here. No signs of life could be found until he reached the very back bedroom, where he feet found root at the doorway and his heart stuttered to a halt.

The bed was empty, covers strewn across the floor. He turned to the bathroom, telling himself she’s probably just gotten up to use the facilities. But a few steps inside shut that idea down in it’s tracks.

Panic restarted the muscle in his chest. “Astor!” He called, turning around. Maybe he’d missed her somehow when he came in- maybe she was in one of the other rooms, finally moving around.

But a quick search of the flat came up empty, and Jaxon Mile was all too aware that he was the only one who knew that there were now two very broken, very unstable gods let loose in this world.

Running both hands through his thick brown hair, Jaxon turned in a circle as his eyes roamed the abandoned apartment all around him. “Fuck. Me.”

-

Astoria ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it down against her neck as she looked around. It was so long now, swishing along the bottom of her hips that were wrapped in skin-tight denim pants, a shirt that was much too small for her bust allowing ample amounts of her tanned stomach to be seen. Brown boots covered her feet as they led her down the busy sidewalk. So many gazes fell on her white hair, and she offered a gentle smile at each gawker she caught. It wasn’t often they got to witness a goddess walk among them, let them look.

Soon, they would burn in the fie she unleashed upon this world with the same gentle, loving smile splitting her face. She would bring hell raining down on this realm soon enough, punishing every soul that failed to save her twin.

Her smile may have broadened as she began the search for her brother.

Daniel had created his followers into a crude rendering of his father’s own, coloring their hair and eyes white as a tribute to the pale beginning of creation itself. These small nods to the bastard who’d contributed just enough to bring him to life, with the help of his worthless mother, entertained him to no end. 

The blackette’s hands stopped, as a grin took his lips. It spread, pulling the skin of his cheeks into an unnatural twist. Lusious’s head turned back to catch the smile, his already pale face leaching of color. 

Everything was finally coming into place, after all this time. His patience was paying off, and now he would finally be able to reap the fruits of his labor.

Astoria had awakened.

They could begin.

Ashlae turned over in her bed, tangling the grey sheets around her. With a huff of frustration, she gave up on getting any sleep tonight, despite the dose of sleep aids she’d allowed herself, just to rid her face of the heavy bags beneath her brown eyes.

After a moment of untwisting the covers from her body, the caramellette rose from her bed. Dressed in only an oversized black shirt and her tight sleeping shorts, she rubbed at the untamed curls fanning her shoulders as she moved from her hotel room.

Despite her quiet support, her son refused to take the extra bedroom she’d bought to allow him his own privacy. It had been a few years since he’d slept in a bed with her, but she’d thought that meant he would move on to sleeping in a room of his own. Instead, Casimir insisted on taking the couch in the front room of every hotel they’d stayed at in the past few months, if he slept at all.

“Cassie?” Her hand moved to rub her eyes, drowsy from the sleep that seemed to evade her these past few days. She made it two steps into the front room before what she was seeing caught up with her, stopping her breath in frozen lungs.

Casimir sat casually on the couch, the pillow and blanket still folded at one end where she’d left it hours ago. His computer sat open in front of him on the coffee table, the screen casting a dull light on his emotionless features as he stared up at the woman occupying the middle of the room. Her palm open before him, a small ball of white energy crackling as it aimed between his icy blue eyes.

Eyes that seemed, now, unimpressed with the very obvious threat to his life. His elbows rested on his knees for God’s sake, hands held together in a loose grip. In a moment of hysteria, she recalled that he’d taken the same stance when they’d sat down to talk about sex a few years ago. Quiet, humble, collected.

But now was not the fucking time. “What the fuck?! Logan!” But the sound in her ear was only a crackle of electricity as she stared in horror at the long mane of white hair, at the woman who didn’t even turn at Ashlae’s outburst. “Casimir!”

Finally, his gaze drifted to her direction. He was calm, barely phased at the threat aimed to take his life. “It’s okay, Shay.” Helpless, she watched as he spoke. Her weapons were still in her duffle back in the bedroom she’d just left- why weren’t they in her hands? Why had she allowed herself to get lazy in his protection? “It’s okay.” Turning back to the intruder, his tone turned gentle as he whispered, “I’m going to say goodbye.”

Terror rioted in her chest as he rose to stand, keeping his movements slow as he stepped away from the couch. Ashlae watched that ball of energy dissipate, the hand that wield it slowly closing into an empty fist.

Suddenly, he was standing before her- when had he gotten so tall? She nearly dwarfed him, craning her neck to meet his cautious gaze. “I have to go with her-”

She had time, she could get to her duffle in the bedroom. It would take a few seconds to reach the door, push it open. Five or six more to reach the bag, find her guns. Were they loaded? When was the last time she’d cleaned the chambers? 

Snatching a fist full of his shirt, she felt blood rush to her cheeks. “My ass you do! Casimir Mael.” Get him to safety, protect him.

“Shay.” He hushed her easily, hands coming up to grip her upper arms in a soft hold. “She explained everything to me. Tell the others they can go home soon, they must miss home as much as I do.”

Ashlae felt her brows lower as confusion washed over like a tidal wave. “Cass, what are you talking about? Who-”

His head shook from side to side, swaying those light blond strands. He needed a haircut, she’d have to get him one soon. “Papa spoke to me. They’re calling us home.”

She didn’t know exactly what made her do it- the cocktail of confusion, rage maybe. But for the first time in their lives, Ashlae’s hand came down hard across her son’s pale cheek, turning his head from her with the force of the slap. He had to understand, she had to make him understand. There was no option that allowed this- allowed him leaving her to run off, talking about his dead father as if Sythe was there to help them. The gods were all dead, they had to work with what they had, now.

Her body trembling, shaking as the tears threatened her vision, she snapped. “No.” All she could see was her son holding his cheek, face turned away from her as a vivid fury took over. “You’re not going anywhere Casimir. We have worked too hard to hide you, I have worked too hard- you are not going anywhere, do you understand me?!”

Slowly, his hand dropped. Something broke in her when he turned back, that red mark that marred his face weakened her knees. But it was the understanding in his gaze, the forgiveness there that loosened the sob from her throat. “I love you. Thank you, Shay.” And when he drew her close, kissing her cheek before wrapping her tight in his arms, he whispered in her ear. “Tell my sister I love her too, and Papa’s not angry with her. Tell her not to cry. Letat' kak feniks iz svoyego adskogo plameni.” Rise like the Phoenix, from your own hellfire. His father’s personal creed, now Luna’s crest. 

He pulled away, and Ashlae felt the floor hit her knees as they buckled. The sobs racked her body, engulfing the room in her grief as her son offered his hand to the stranger. But what she saw was the little boy that had waged a war with her over eating any green vegetable for the first few years of his life. Blond fluff that fell as he sat in her lap for his first haircut, screaming his lungs out as the barber worked quick. His little hand outstretched to her to show his first fallen tooth, one of the fronts, smiling with pride at having tugged it loose himself, blood tinting his pale lips.

As the woman turned to take his hand, there was a second that Ashlae was given to glimpse the face of the stranger taking her son away. A face she hadn’t seen in years- someone she hadn’t thought about in ages.

Luna. I have to get to Luna.

#untagged #stacilynn #skit #mywriting #book of Daniel #from your own hellfire