#this is the things that is going to torment me until the day I die | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imrllytootiredforthis · 6 months

Note

any thoughts abt yandere beomgyu or taehyun? 👀

gn!reader

warnings: yandere subs, dom reader, reader is kinda (really) mean, bully beomgyu (for beomgyu's part), bully reader (for taehyun's part), it's smut with a sub yandere so more stuff along those lines, etc.

beomgyu:

i will preach the sub bully yandere beomgyu until the day that i die-

he's such a spoiled, conceited brat that feels like he can step on anyone he deems 'deserves it' and get whatever he wants with the point of his finger

until he meets you,

who will put up with none of his bullshit, giving him none of the reaction of what he wants but maybe that's what makes him so interested in you

maybe it's the fact that he doesn't know how to deal with his emotions in a proper manner

or the fact that he's head over heels for you but doesn't know how to show it other than jeering at you in the hallways, calling you names as you walk by

but he quickly realizes that maybe you're not the best person to try to torment (pt.1 and pt.2 of previous bully!beomgyu)

because as mean as he can be, he knows you can be so much meaner than him

but maybe he likes that a little too much

even after all that he continues his little games, seeing just how far he can go, just how far he can piss you off until you're on him, making him 'regret ever being such a little bitch'-his words, not yours

he starts rumours about you, nasty ones that you can't seem to shake from the others susceptible to his influence

they'll believe anything he tells the, all because he has a pretty face and a self-acclaimed big dick

(which is, admittedly, partially true but you'd never tell him or anyone else that)

it would be a shock to anyone, really,

that beomgyu,

the guy who badmouths and bullies you on a daily basis,

tripping you in the halls and sticking crude things to your locker, causing problems and pointing the finger in your direction.

no would suspect that he,

is nothing but a whore on his knees for you behind closed doors, willing to do anything and everything for you to call him a few names.

that he sits on his knees on the tile floor of the dirty bathrooms after school, long after people have left for the day but not late enough that there won't be a few who've stayed behind for whatever other reason

that he gets off to this very idea, face red with the humiliation of it all.

moaning and whining under the eyes of the once again beomgyu - acclaimed 'school slut', fisting his cock as he desperately tries to get off,

begging, pleading with you to just touch him, just please, please, please bring him some relief.

you only roll your eyes, tugging his head back by his hair.

and he loves the fact all too much that he can see the anger that's been simmering in your eyes for weeks finally bubble to the surface. the sadistic mean side that you keep hidden from everyone else

"and why should i touch you?" your voice is a sneer that makes his cock throb in his hand. "because i'm a whore who slept with the teacher to get good grades?"

his eyes are wide, needy, greedy.

he's too used to getting whatever he wants. he's too used to people falling to their knees around him just because he's a rich boy with a pretty face.

"just, didn't want anyone else to want you-" he pants, your fingers threading through the all too soft strands of his hair. "you're mine."

"No."

he lets out a yelp when your shoe nudges against his dick,

rough and so fucking dirty but it's you and you're finally, finally touching him

you need to teach him a lesson.

"i'm not yours. and you're fucking dumb if you think i am."

one that he won't forget

"because why would i be if i was just a 'good fuck' but had some weird kinks." you laugh dryly, remembering the glint in his eyes as he stared you down, whispers formulating all around the hall about you and him.

"the irony, that you're spread out on the ground of the bathroom floor like some kind of dog, panting and begging for a treat from me? calling you a pathetic whore? and i'm the one with the weird kinks here."

you scoff

"you wish i let your pathetic dick anywhere near me, much less fuck me down into a mattress."

he can barely focus on what you're saying,

only on the feeling of your foot grinding down onto him.

he should find this demeaning,

disgusting,

wrong.

he should shove you away and get the fuck out of here with whatever decency he has left.

but he doesn't have any.

he enjoys this more than he could ever shamelessly admit, being here under your mercy

forced to be down onto his knees, stepping down on his dick as you degrade him

he could never say it aloud

but it isn't that hard to see from body language alone

the way he looks up at you with hearts in his eyes, as if you're some kind of god, blessing him with your very presence

adoration

and awe

and pure and utter love.

every cruel word dripping from your lips like honeyed venom, making his heart beat faster and his cock throb harder.

"you're fucking disgusting."

his hands fly around to grip onto your thighs, fingers digging into the fabric of your pants,

eyes lidding in bliss

"imagine if they could all see you now, spread out like this. would they idolize you then?"

he could lie and say that he didn't like it when you pulled his head back, fingers pressing into his jaw to open his mouth up,

before spitting on his tongue.

be it would be so obviously a lie.

he could also lie and say that he didn't go dumb at the taste of your saliva on his tongue, swirling around with his own before dripping down his throat

-it's the closest he's ever gotten to actually kissing you

he could say that he didn't, embarrassingly cum all over himself from it, letting out a strangled cry as ropes of it stain onto his ridiculously expensive shirt and pants

and your shoe

all while his eyes never leave yours.

looking up at you with the devotion of being the only thing that can manage to make his heart beat this fast

"now lick it off, you dog."

taehyun:

and you know what?

for the sake of these, let's just have it the opposite way for taehyun.

mean, bully reader who taunts him all day, calling him names and cornering in the hallways.

shy, lone tae who lets it happen, his head turned down, his cheeks stained pink when you do,

you didn't even realize him in the beginning, scurrying past you when you were mean to others, laughing with your friends

but he always knew you

watching you as you disinterestedly twirled a pencil through your fingers, two seats away from his

he could say from the very beginning that you interested him far beyond what was probably appropriate-but he couldn't help himself

not when he couldn't stop thinking about you, imagining the condescending tone you used directed at him for once

that sneer on your face, the look of disgust or the sadistic smile. you were gorgeous every way.

and he couldn't even restrain himself picking up his old digital camera he'd used years ago before getting bored, blowing the dust off it

and using to take pictures of you

people noticed him a bit more after that, not by much but the big camera always present in his hands or around his neck garnered it's fair share of attention

you noticed him, finally

glanced at him out of the corner of your eye in the hall or in class, but you never fully acknowledged him, never talked him

but for awhile a few looks were enough, his pictures were enough

until they weren't.

he needed more.

he needed you to look at him.

to be mean to him.

to notice him.

and you definitely did when he seemed to trip out of nowhere right in front of you and your friends,

pictures spilling out of his bag from the impact, spreading out all of the linoleum floor for everyone to see

You.

you smiling, you laughing, you frowning and glaring and sneering.

in class, on your route home, in your home.

pictures taken through a window of you half undressing, getting into bed, eating.

you stared at the photos...

before your gaze turned to him...

with everything he'd ever wanted.

finally your sights were set on him.

the word perv was thrown around, stalker and creep.

he liked them when they were from you

but those were nothing compared to the other things you'd do to him.

things he'd do for you without a second thought.

taunts were not enough. rumours he'd done a well enough job creating on his own. the rest was left up to you to fill.

you took his camera. he hasn't seen it since.

he doesn't care.

he has something much better now.

you. in the flesh. in front of him.

you had your own name for him too.

"dog."

that was perhaps his favourite.

yours too it seemed.

you thought it fit well to him.

his eyes wide, almost puppy-like when you approach him in the hallways.

you're not supposed to be here, technically he's not supposed to either.

not a peep of protest when face to face with you,

smirking toothily as you back him up into a wall, so close your nose nearly touches his, your hand resting on the wall over his shoulder, successfully trapping him in place.

he likes this position too much, even if he squirms away from your touch.

"Do you have it?"

taehyun is the type of guy you could bully for the answers to the homework or a project, but that would be too easy

you could steal his things and beat him until you were satisfied but that would probably be easier, still

it wouldn't appease that fire curling in the pit of your stomach when you see his lip quiver and his eyes flutter with unshed tears,

coincidentally it didn't appease that masochistic side to him either, the side that liked that fire in your eye when you made him do another embarrassing act

but maybe part of him that you liked so much was the willingness he had, the devotion he had to you,

following you around like a lost puppy,

at your beck and call whenever you wanted or needed him and even when you didn't.

he sits alone in his room, staring at your contact in his phone waiting for the next time you decide you're bored and want to make his life a living hell once more

coincidentally, lighting his life up once more

in some ways he needed you

and in other ways you needed him

the power trip that it gave you, knowing he'd get down on his knees in front of you and kiss your shoes, not because he was scared of you but because he loved to do it just as much as you loved to order it

"y-yeah, i have it."

he pulls something out of his bag, holding it out to you.

a small device, nothing special but the small plus and minus on it

you smirk. and slowly you let your eyes travel down the length of his body.'

"good boy~"

was it natural to feel a chest palpitation

when you call him that?

when you look at him with those eyes?

when you're so mean to him?

why does it only make his heart flutter?

"so what happens if I..."

you click your tongue at the exact moment your slide your finger down to click the plus button up,

click,

his body jolts, a rush of heat spreading throughout his body.

the toy vibrates inside of him, just for you.

click,

he clenches his jaw tight, trying not to make a sound under your eyes

"too much!" he squeaks.

you tilt your head to the side.

click.

he lets out a dry sob, body trembling against the wall, shaky legs only being kept upright by your hips pinning him to the surface.

"oh baby," a finger pushes his chin up, brushing over his pulse point and adam's apple before forcing his eyes onto yours.

"don't be a wimp now~"

you move in, close and for a momentary second of bliss he thinks you'll press your lips against his and fulfill the nasty wish of being touched by his bully for all too long

his eyes fall shut, lips parted in quiet pants

but you don't come.

you only laugh.

click.

"it's only too much when i say it's too much, puppy~"

his head spins. his eyes squeeze shut harder

and suddenly he hears a different click, more of a flash if he had to place it-

-a shudder?

he pries his eyes open to see you standing there still, somehow seeming to tower above him despite being the same height.

with his camera in hand.

"look at the camera puppy~"

and so he does

he whines, glazed over eyes staring directly at the lens, the utter adoration seeping through into the photo when you eventually print this out and keep to look at whenever you want

and he pants, just like the pathetic puppy he is

but he's your puppy now

click.

a/n: :)

670 notes · View notes

mangowafflesss · 6 months

Text

Ghostly Love | Ghost x Ghost!Reader

Summary: You’re a ghost that haunts the base and accidentally falls in love with Ghost.

Word Count: 4K+

★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★

Death is a funny thing, one day you’re alive and the next well… you’re not. You died miles and miles away from here but somehow you were tied to this place. You were hoping to be living your afterlife under palm trees, somewhere hot and sunny unlimited cocktails lying by the pool.

Sadly even when you die you still don’t have freedom. Which fucking sucks.

You roam the hallways of a military base, out of all places why here? It annoyed you at first but then you came round to the idea of scaring and possibly triggering these worn out soldiers. It was wrong, oh so very wrong for making someone scared when they’ve seen the depths of hell, but so have you in some way.

There wasn’t a pearly gate waiting for you or some hot sunken dungeon, just pure nothingness until you ‘woke’ up here.

Stalking the corridors was one of your favourite activities, you could trip over as many people as you could and they would think it’s their clumsy footing, idiots. You have a specific corridor you do it in and they always blame it’s uneven flooring due to everyone tripping there, but no it’s just you and your bored out mind.

People always suspect there’s ghosts that roam this base but when you realised they weren’t talking about you, it was sort of intriguing to hear.

Ghost. Who is he? What does he look like? And why have you not met him yet?

From what you gathered he’s a scary tall guy who wears a mask and oh, everyone is scared of him. It wasn’t uncommon to overhear someone’s juicy gossip about who’s scared of who and who’s fucking who. You’ve lost count how many times you’ve walked through a wall and someone’s pegging someone.

Ghost was interesting though, you needed someone new to suck the energy out of and maybe he’ll be your new person to torment.

It wasn’t until three days later at specifically three in the morning you bumped into him, well bumped is a strong word. He walked through your body and strode down your tripping hallway. Quickly chasing after him he turned around as he felt someone behind him, you continued to get ahead of him and jut out your foot.

He was coming your way and you concentrated on making a physical connection to do so. You watch in amusement as he trips and curses under his breath, it’ll never get old no matter how many times you do it. Hell, you’re here forever so might as well be entertained by it.

You continued to stalk after him, wondering what he’s doing up at this time and where he came from. You’ve been watching security cameras for most of the day chilling in the security room which to you is probably the worst smelling room.

Weird how ghosts can smell. Something you hate when you get an armpit to the face on the odd occasion.

The doors to the outside open and he gives a nod to one of the guards out there and pulls out a cigarette, oh how you miss smoking. Maybe it’s what led to your death but who knows and who cares, right?

He pulls the mask up above his nose and you stare at him in awe, he is really pretty, scars littered his pale freckled face and you reached out a hand to trace them, he blew out the smoke and wiggled his nose muttering something about the cold. Another downside of being dead, you’re always cold just like a corpse.

As you observed him you knew he was going to be different from the others you’ve observed, you started to smile as your heart started to swell, it’s weird how you still feel everything. Emotions, your heart? You’d think it would be as if you’re just empty but no, you’re still you. Unfortunately.

“What are you doing?” You nearly jump out of your skin and then sneer at the man next to you who is also watching Ghost with a curious expression. “Why are you here? Come to torment me again” you really hated this guy with your whole entire being.

“I came to visit of course!” He hits you on the back and you really wished ghosts could touch one another but unfortunately for you they can.”why? So you can rub it in you can leave again” you say pushing him and remaining where you stand.

“Oh come onnn have you even tried again?” You give him a look and he puts his hand up in surrender, of course you’ve tried. It’s a part of your daily routine at this point but you’re in some sort of barrier trapped around this forsaken place. Frowning you see the butt of the cigarette fall to the floor and it is stamped out with a boot, just like your hope.

“Okay okay I’m sick of seeing you this way so I asked around for you”

“About?”

“About you leaving here and travelling anywhere you want! Just like me” his arm was wrapped around your shoulder and he pointed to the sky to say that’s where your answers lie.

“Yeah right and how do I do that? Spin around in front of a mirror three times” you laugh and push his arm off you and walk away to try and find where your new obsession friend has gone.

“You need to form a connection with a human, people usually do it with their family because well they’re usually trapped in the homes of them so pick someone here and bond”

“And how am I going to do that?” The idea was ridiculous, there’s no way you’re going to be able to manage that “dunno kid, you'll figure it out though. I've got to go, good luck” and with that he walks away and disappears into the night air.

“Form a connection? Fucking unbelieveale” you grumble and continue your walk around the base for the thousandth time.

The next day you found Ghost in the shooting range, it was entertaining watching people shoot guns and he seemed to be very good at it. “Damn LT. didn't know you were back” you heard a whistle and a man you've seen plenty of times before come through the door.

Soap Mactavish is a man you've played pranks on before, his happy go lucky nature is often fun to mess with. Seeing him spooked out and cling to the nearest thing makes the deepest of sounds erupt from your body.

You stood in the corner watching until Ghost looked in your direction which made you freeze, can he see you? Does he possess the ability to see ghosts? You really hoped not…

His eyes rip away from you and over to the rack next to you. He was probably just looking at the guns not you, that would be silly,

“Seems different from last time I was here” his voice was gravelly and you kind of liked it, a sense of authority lurked in there.

“Aye, I think theres ghosts personally”

“Ghosts? Fuck off Johnny”

“What?! I'm being serious, ask anyone here they'll tell you about the paranormal”

Their conversation seemed to end there and you decided to stand next to them, if you were still alive you'd be intimidated by the size of their muscles. Reaching out to see how big Soap's arm is compared to your hand he flinches and shivers.

You retreat yourself from him as you know your presence causes a temperature change to the atmosphere, just like when you touched Ghosts face last night. Sighing, you lay on the ground, you were never going to get out of here even if you tried.

“You need to form a connection with a human”

“Shut up!” you were so angry at what he told you, not only does he pop in now and again to piss you off and brag about how he went to a different country. It seemed so easy to just go into a mirror and travel but no you’re spat back out like a talent show reject. “Why does this shit always happen to me” you groan to absolutely no one, you were alone here and most probably will be until this place is demolished.

Sulking on the floor you get a boot to the chest and look up to see Ghost standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. He was shouting something to someone and you sat up, your head was next to his leg and you saw a couple of guys fighting each other while being pulled away by Soap and another man.

As you are about to get up off the floor you look down and an idea pops into your head. Smiling to yourself you tie the man's shoelaces together and stand up before laughing in his face. “There can only be one ghost here” you say and walk away to terrorise the communication officers. You were on a schedule after all.

When you walk down the hall you hear a faint “Johnny!” and snicker while tripping someone over and flickering the lights.

A couple of days later you were doing your nightly run of the corridors trying to find someone to annoy until you remembered Ghost. Walking through each room you breeze past many sleeping soldiers or other things you wish to erase from your mind before finding Ghost.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, his back looked so big from behind, large shoulders and thick muscles poked through his shirt. Creeping over you see his elbows resting on his thick thighs while something drips from his face.

The closer you got you could see the tracks of tears on his cheeks and immediately felt as if you should leave. But you don't, instead you sit on the ground in front of him with your legs crossed with a sympathetic look on your face. You wanted to reach out and comfort him but you couldn’t and sighed heavily.

He sobbed silently into his hands and you just watched. It was the only thing you could do at the moment. You wondered what horrors he's seen in his lifetime, probably way more than what you have that's for sure.

He leaned back and ran his hands down his face effectively wiping away the tears and opened his eyes. You watch as he looks at a piece of paper in his hand and you stand up from your spot on the floor. Moving to his side you sit down next to him and see the image of a little boy smiling as he lifts him into the air, the little boy is clinging to a football and it looks as if they’re in someone's back garden.

He looks at the photo with a solemn expression and sighs heavily. “I hope you’re having a good birthday up there Joe” he whispers before giving the photo a kiss and sliding it inside of a book that's on his pillow.

You purse your lips in thought and come to the conclusion that this Joe was dead. You wonder if you would ever be able to find him… a thought for another day.

You placed a comforting hand on his back knowing he wouldn’t feel it unless you focused really hard on doing so. His breathing relaxed and soon enough he leaned back on his bed, his head laying softly against the pillow as he stared at the ceiling.

You decided to retreat out of the room by walking backwards, you never really have to pay attention anymore until you actually bumped into something and alerted the awake man. “Shit, don't see me please don’t see me” you whisper while freezing on the spot, he doesn’t get up and instead lays back down mumbling something under his breath you couldn’t hear. Turning around you exit his room and leave him alone for the night.

A couple of nights later you found him still awake in his room sewing a hole up in his mask, you watched him carefully until he pricked his fingers over and over again. “Fucking hell this stupid mask” he grunts while throwing it onto the ground, he leaves the room with a different mask that covers half of his face and for some reason you bend down and pick the mask up off the floor.

Focusing on the task at hand you sew up the hole to the best of your abilities and when you’re done you manage to suck all of the energy out of the light bulb in his lamp. “Oops… oh well” you smile at your work but the mask slips through your hands and you frown “I guess that's all I can do for one night” the door opens and you jump to your feet to see the tall buff man walk back into his room. He unzips his jacket and a box of cigarettes falls out of his pocket but he just leaves them there and instead picks up his mask. He sees the thread has moved and narrows his eyes and checks his mask. When he sees the hole now sewn he looks around his room before putting it back where he keeps it and doesn’t question it.

“You're welcome I guess” you say sarcastically and see the man's shoulders tense, he turns slowly and soon enough a knife is thrown in your direction which makes you duck. “What the fuck?!” is what you say when you return back to your normal standing position, the knife is sticking out of the wall and you look from that back to the man who is closing in on you.

He reaches a hand out for your neck but his hand goes straight through and he looks even more confused. He throws punches in your direction but they all end up with his shadow boxing which makes you laugh.

“Please stop or you'll end up punching the wall” you say but you’re also shocked you even care about his well being. Weird.

“You need to leave”

“I don't think so. You see I'm a ghost and I technically can’t so I think I’ll do what I want” you give him a sickly sweet smile and he looks you up and down from head to toe and takes a step back.

“A ghost?” he chuckles while licking his lips “you're not a ghost, i've seen plenty of those”

“Believe it or not but I am, I mean who do you think tied your shoelaces together the other day” you laugh and he comes storming back over to you “That was you?!”

“The one and only” you take a bow and slowly realise this is probably the first conversation with someone alive in a long time. “But don't worry, i'll get out of your hair but i'll be back… whenever” with that you disappear through the wall no doubt leaving him confused.

You came back into his vision while he was smoking outside again, it wasn’t an unusual thing he did and when he saw you he visibly got annoyed and blew out the smoke harshly.

“Hey friend, fancy seeing you here” you elbow him and he moves away from you with a snarl. “Oh come on, can't we at least be friends, I need someone to tell all the gossip to!” you say swinging your arms up in the air.

“Gossip?” he raises an eyebrow and you begin to grin “Yes! You’re friends with that MacTavish guy right?” he scoffs before nodding reluctantly.

“Well he’s been fucking that blonde nurse Cassie for months and last night he called her Marrissa which is the other nurse he had a thing with a couple nights ago. And that's why he rocked up this morning with a black eye” you say nonchalantly while looking at the scenery around you which isn't much.

“That's why he was acting like a bitch all day, fucker deserves it” he laughs and you feel yourself feel lighter at the feeling. “Want me to tell you about the captain too?” he looks at you and then shrugs his shoulders. “If you want to” you smile brighter than a light and walk around the gravel in front of him telling him all the juicy details you could remember.

This happened on repeat, you meeting him outside at the dead of night while he smoked. You told him all of the secrets that are hidden in these walls while he listens and inputs any of his opinions into it.

Over time you realised you had feelings for him. It came out of nowhere, one day you were looking for him and remembered he left for a mission, you felt so lonely without him but it could just be the fact you got so used to his company.

“What's with the sad face chica?”

You look to your side and see the annoying face you wish you could burn. “What are you doing here again, it's a bit early don’t you think?”

“For your information it's been three months since I last saw you”

Three months? There is no way it's been this long and you didn’t know.

“Sooo how's that human? You were ogling the last time I was here”

“I wasn’t ogling him but if you must know we’re actually good friends”

“That’s great! He can help you get out of here” he says, clapping you on the back with joy but you didn’t feel like leaving at this moment in time.

The door to the outside opens and Ghost walks through the doors. You perk up and smile softly, maybe his mission ended quickly. You watch him lean against the brick wall as he usually does and pull out a cig from his pack. His mask lifts and his pale skin is shown under the moonlight.

“Have fun with your friend” you watch the ghost whose name you still don’t know walk away and then turn your attention back to Simon.

He had told you his name one night while you practically begged for it. You had tried to threaten him and say you’d never speak to him again but all he said was “I’ll finally have some peace and quiet”

Appearing to Simon he moves his eyes over to where you’re sitting on the small wall and nods to you.

“You're late, that’s unlike you” he says and you shrug your shoulders.

“Aren’t I always late, you know, because I’m dead?” He looks you in the eyes and smirks “Was that supposed to be a joke?” Shrugging your shoulders again you look away and look at the gates in the distance.

There was a moment of silence before Simons spoke up through the quiet night. “You’re not being annoying, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing”

“Bullshit. C’mon I thought we were supposed to be ‘friends’” he jokes and you hum while playing with your fingers.

“If I asked you to help me with something would you?”

He looked into the dark sky thinking for a moment before looking back at you “like what?”

“Help me leave here. I mean don’t get me wrong it’s nice to be surrounded by so many attractive people but-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, I wouldn’t want to be stuck here either. I’ve spent most of my life in this lifestyle wouldn’t want to die and be trapped in this shithole forever”

“I guess not…”

“Is there something else bothering you”

“What happened to the Simon who hated me talking” you huff while watching the cigarette smoke spiral in the air.

There was a long stretch of silence before you stood and walked to him. “I guess I’ll miss you. That’s all”

“Really” he bluntly says and you just roll your eyes. “Wow at least say you’ll miss me back asshole” you say punching him in the arm.“Why? I know you’ll come back, you'll have a lot of gossip to catch up on” the comforting smell of the smoke makes you feel as if he's being sincere right now. He'll totally miss you.

“So, how am I supposed to help?”

“You'll actually help me?”

He gives you a nod and then you take an unnecessary deep breath. “Okay, let's do this!” you pump yourself up and shake your limbs.

Turning out your hands you put them in front of you with your palms facing upwards, “grab onto my hands” you prompt before his larger ones cover yours. Intertwining your fingers he gives you a curious glance before you whisper words under your breath. “Repeat what I just said okay?” you say and he follows your instructions.

You feel a shiver run up your spine and a tingly feeling flowing through your arms to where your hands are connected with Simons. Letting go, you tell him to follow you to a bathroom. He doesn't question it and simply follows.

Standing in front of a mirror you place your hand onto the smooth surface and push through, you've never actually gone through before so you were slightly nervous. Retreating your hand you look at Simon in the reflection and give him a shy smile “I’m scared” is all you say and he pulls his mask up and gives you a warm encouraging smile “Don’t be, go on, go through and be free”

Turning back to the mirror you enter it completely and the feeling was incredible, you were finally free. Poking your body out of the mirror you press a kiss to his now masked cheek “Thank you. I'll come visit soon!” you say excitedly and leave him alone in front of the bathroom mirror.

1 Month Later

Simon hadn’t seen you in a whole entire month. He didn't want to admit that he missed your stupid face or your company but he often wished every night when he took a step outside to have a smoke that you would appear with that annoying smile.

Looking up at the moon he blows out the smoke into the cold night air and shivers due to the extreme temperature drop. It was the middle of winter now and wondered if you were having fun, wherever you were.

“Hello stranger”

Whipping his head to the side he sees you standing there with your usual smile on your face. “Your back. Thought you'd be back sooner” this makes you laugh while walking closer to him, “Don't act like you didn't miss me”

“I bought a couple of people with me, if you don’t mind” he looks at you confused and then you bit your lip as two other figures appear from behind you.

“Tommy? Joseph?” he says, astonished as to what he's seeing. Removing his mask he sees his nephew and brother standing before him. You stayed behind them not wanting to disrupt their little reunion.

“Uncle Si!” the boy wraps his arms around Simon's legs and he bends down to greet him “How are you bud?” he looks at the features of him and he's exactly how he remembered him.

Tommy turns to you and gives you a smile “Thank you for helping us find him” you wave a hand in the air and shrug “No problem. I haven’t known him long but I could tell he needed this. I'm just glad I could find you if I’m honest- it's a very big world” Tommy laughs at this and you look back to where Simon currently is.

He looks at you and mouths a ‘thank you’ which you just nod at. Putting your hand on Tommy’s arm to gain his attention he looks at you again. “Have a good time with your brother, I’m glad I got to meet you”

You leave in the mist of the night and feel happy about what you did tonight. You'll be back soon enough for the gossip and probably a lecture about doing something like this for him, but you didn’t care. You'd do anything for Simon and wish him a good rest of his life.

THE END.

#Mangos Mythic Month🦇˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley

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masuchu · 4 months

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“𝐙𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒” [BSD MEN]

what happens when the bsd men’s gf gets zoomies? ‧₊˚

genre. fluff !! kinda silly ngl . perhaps ooc but idk

characters. dazai, chuuya & fyodor

love, masu. this has been rotting in my drafts for sooooo long!! i polished it off and i love it now!! it’s a very stupid idea, but who even cares

(大哉) 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 ‧₊˚

Zoomies are contagious for this man. When you start sprinting around your shared apartment for absolutely no apparent reason, he questions nothing and joins you.

As much as he finds it amusing to sit back and watch you run around like a toddler, he feels the childish longing to join you bubbling up inside him.

When you crash into things? He crashes into them too! You’ll clean later, for now, he’s perfectly content to copy your strange antics.

However, he can only last so long running around like a lunatic. He will be worn out by the end of your spree!

“Bella, how are you still going? I feel like I’m going to die…”

You halted your movements and peered down amused at your heaving boyfriend, strewn out clumsily on your sofa.

“Aw, can’t keep up Samu’?” You teasingly muttered against your lover’s lips, much too close to escape without being gripped firmly and ambushed with kisses.

“Haha! Leave me alone!” You giggled at the ticklish feeling of his lips teasing all around your face.

“So long as you stay here with me and stop giving yourself whiplash~”

You giggled again. “For you.”

(中也) 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 ‧₊˚

Oh my god, not a day goes by where you don’t severely decrease the concentration of braincells in this man’s head.

When suddenly begin to dart around his million dollar apartment with seemingly zero spacial nor social awareness, you actually stun him.

Jaw dropped, eyes switching from wide to squinted every few seconds, completely and utterly speechless.

What the fuck were you doing?? This man loves you with every fibre of his being, every inch of his soul— however, sometimes you really do make him question if you were, well, okay.

When he gets over his initial shock, he shakes his head and pretends it never happened. He may chuckle and call you something along the lines of ‘damn weirdo’, but he really does love you and your oddness!

Your heavy breaths are all that can be heard throughout the room, hands on your hips in attempt to allow more oxygen into your lungs.

“Ah! I’m so tired, what are you drink— Why are you looking at me like that?”

You finally take notice of your boyfriend’s humorously perplexed stare, and shake your head at his expression.

“What on earth was that?!”

“What was what?”

Chuuya blink twice and lets his head fall back, allowing a mix of a groan and a laugh to escape his lips.

“Forget about it.”

(费奥多尔) 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 ‧₊˚

Fyodor tends to allow you to do your thing in these situations.

He understands you aren’t looking for attention, your nerves are just going haywire. So long as you don’t break anything or kill anyone (anyone important, at least), he is perfectly content with carrying on with his work and leaving you to your devices.

That is, until you do break something.

The torment you put this man through is humorous, considering his occupation and life goals. He prays he may live one day without something happening.

“What, exactly, am I looking at?”

You look down at the shattered vase on the floor, and let out a shaky laugh. A laugh that was more of a ‘shit! I am in trouble’ rather than a ‘this is very funny’.

“Urm. Well, I sort of crashed into the table. And then, it kind of, very much fell off and shattered.”

A moment that was much too long for you liking passed by painfully. You shuffled from foot to foot, and placed you gaze anywhere but your lovers face. It was not in Fyodor’s nature to feel empathy, but he didn’t care about the vase. And he supposed it would be a hassle to deal with you in an apologetic and guilty state…

“It is fine, I didn’t care for it much. Though, please refrain from destroying any more of my ceramics when you continue… doing whatever you were doing.”

“I will try. And it’s called ‘zoomies’!”

“….Right.”

2024 © masuchu , do not repost, reword, plagiarise, take inspiration, translate or share my work anywhere!

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ sincerely me ‹𝟹 #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd fluff #dazai x reader #dazai fluff #chuuya x reader #chuuya fluff #fyodor x reader #fyodor fluff #dazai bsd #chuuya bsd #fyodor bsd

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haespoir · 11 months

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dive into you: mkl.

cave me in, part two!

⨯ pairing: plug!mark x reader

⨯ word count: 1.7k

⨯ summary: mark makes it clear that he wants more than being just your plug. he won't stop until you're his.

⨯ warnings: mentions of drugs (weed), more suggestive content... uh that is it i believe

⨯ playlist: better, khalid / snooze, sza / mmmh, kai

⨯ extra content: part one

⨯ a/n: okay... i tried to work on my writing a bit here, but i'm not sure how i feel about it? i said i would work on describing the setting more but it slipped my mind... so next thing i post.. I SWEAR I WILL WORK ON IT!! anyways, ty @markonthemoon for dealing with my brainrot surrounding plug!mark :3 any feedback is very appreciated ♡

. . .

The next morning you wake up on a bare chest. For a moment, you feel the panic begin to bubble in your chest. Now, you weren’t a prude or anything, but one-night stands were just not something that you were into. Before you can fully panic, you feel the person below you stir awake.

“Good morning.” Mark’s raspy voice goes straight to your heart. It was something that you wouldn’t mind hearing every morning. It was so different from his regular speaking voice; you can feel yourself falling into him more and more. It doesn’t help that the morning sun is looking down on the two of you; it feels so intimate.

“Morning,” you mumble, opting to bury your face in his neck. You might just explode on the spot if you made eye contact with him. However, this causes Mark to let out a groan, and it’s one that you can feel in his chest. Unknown to you, the male had been awake far longer than you had. Now, Mark was no hopeless romantic, but he swore that night with you had changed him. Maybe it was just the weed in his system. He wasn’t sure.

It was like you were a sweet, comforting rain that he had accumulated over time. You drenched him wave after wave until he felt like he was drowning until he felt that he couldn’t handle it anymore. But oddly enough, he doesn’t fight it. He doesn’t want to fight it. Without hesitation, he willingly dives into you.

His peaceful morning was enough proof that it wasn’t just a one-time thing–– not to him. With you in his arms, all his worries felt far away. There was nothing that felt better than waking up like this. Though there was one thing that seemed to gnaw at his mind… Did you share this sentiment?

After weeks of knowing you, Mark realized that you weren’t much of a smoker at all. It was almost confusing. The small containers of weed on your desk were enough proof; they were all things you had bought from him, and while he found the way you wrote each strain and the date it was purchased endearing, he couldn’t understand why you hadn’t smoked it. You definitely smoked; the number of times he tasted you on the shared blunt the night before was proof of that. You would rather die than admit that many of the times you bought from Mark were purely due to attraction, not because you actually needed anything.

“I actually don’t smoke a lot,” you had said the night before. “I prefer edibles. I just keep that for special occasions with friends.” Is that what the hook-up was? A special occasion with a friend? That thought tormented Mark. There was no way that he was going to let you slip through his fingers now that he had you. You weren’t going to be able to escape him.

Even after the awkward breakfast the two of you shared in your quiet apartment, Mark wasn’t scared. In fact, he was more bold. There were so many nights where you found yourself sitting in his passenger seat, his hand on your thigh as he drove around aimlessly. So many nights where he just held you in the dark, the smell of weed permeating your clothes when he dropped you off in the morning.

It wasn’t just the weed that seemed to linger on your clothes either. Mark’s cologne was always stuck on you. So much so, that when Haechan had seen you one day for lunch, he had scrunched his nose at the sight of you.

“You smell like Mark,” he had said, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. “Making moves on the weed man, are you?”

You had pretended to be wounded at his words, a cheeky grin on your lips. “This is what you wanted, no?” As much as Haechan wanted to wipe that annoying grin off your face, he knew you were right. He couldn’t count how many times Mark had asked him about you. The poor man was obsessed with you, and Haechan just couldn’t stand the way you both seemed set on ignoring your feelings. So he made sure to plant small ideas in Mark’s mind.

“Didn’t they say they liked marshmallows?”

So that’s where those extra marshmallow treats came from.

“I hear they’re stressed, maybe you should go check on them.”

Mark was texting you instantly, asking if you wanted to try a new strain with him. It also seemed that someone was lowering the price of your edibles without you knowing.

Now, the gummy bear idea was one entirely of his own. And he felt proud of that. Though he would never admit to you that he also enjoyed the clear gummy bears. But he would never eat a clear gummy bear if it meant he could see that adorable smile on your face.

And it seemed Haechan’s hints and pushing seemed to work because almost a month later you show up to a party, Mark following closely behind. It was like a moth to a flame; wherever you went, Mark was not far behind. Haechan wasn’t prepared to see the way he hovered around you; it made him want to barf. A pair of lovesick fools, that’s what he had called the two of you.

He wasn’t wrong. While the two of you weren’t necessarily private with the relationship you had going on, it didn’t mean you were actively showing each other off. This is why it comes as a shock to many people to see Mark basically wrapped around your finger.

“Is this what you meant by hard launch?” His question has you rolling your eyes. The male had spent at least 30 minutes before you had walked into the house marking up your neck in his car. The way you had proudly displayed the love bites on your neck made him swell with pride. You were his, even without the labels.

“That’s for social media,” you say, a small laugh slipping past your lips when he pouts. “Should I post a picture of you sucking on my neck like a leech on Instagram? Since you want a hard launch?”

This only makes him pout even more, his arms wrapping around your waist. Without warning, he’s nipping at the previous marks he made on your throat. “If it means more PDA, I’m not complaining.”

“You’re a dork,” you say, pulling away to cup his cheeks. “There’s never been a limit on the PDA.” To prove your point, you press your lips to his, ignoring the way the few people around you cheer the two of you on. Almost instantly, Mark reacts to your kiss. He’s pulling you closer; it was like close wasn’t close enough for him. It never was, and you’d have to agree.

When you finally separate, it’s like he’s taken all the air out of your lungs. You’re trying to catch your breath when he presses his forehead against yours, his whisper ghosting over your lips. “God, I am so into you. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Sorry,” you mumble. But you weren’t sorry at all, you both knew this.

He chuckles at your words, stealing a quick kiss. “Can we get out of here? Please, puppy?”

You hated that the nickname had stuck; it was a nickname that sent butterflies straight to your stomach, especially when he looked as delicious as he did now. “We can do whatever you want, my love.”

Mark swears he’s dizzy with how much he wants you, and he’s someone who doesn’t need to be told anything twice. The two of you quickly disappear from the party, throwing half-hearted goodbyes at your friends before you guys slip away into the night.

You find yourself in the back of Mark’s car, smoke filling the spaces between the two of you. Even if the space was a bit cramped, nothing could stop Mark from pulling you into his lap. He loved holding you there. His fingers would drift, tickling your waist every now and then. He was such an affectionate person. If anything, you were the one going crazy.

But even with the affection, you found yourself scared. Riding the high, you decide there’s no better time to get answers out of Mark. Anything to settle your racing heart.

“Is there anyone else you’re with?” Your question is barely audible, the fear of his answer weighing heavily on you. It felt ridiculous to ask, knowing that there was realistically no time for Mark to be seeing anyone else. But you had to be sure, just to get rid of those small voices.

“I’m just with you right now,” he says, reassuringly squeezing your waist. “It’s always just been you.”

This makes your heart flutter, and you can feel the warmth decorating your cheeks. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Mark.

“God, you look so good right now,” he groans. “I could devour you.”

“Oh yeah?” You raise a brow at his statement, taking the chance to tease him. “I think I would look even better under you.”

Mark swears you can’t be real. There’s no way that you’re real. Surely you are just some figment of his imagination. No one was this perfect. But even Mark has to show a bit of self-restraint every now and then.

“Unfortunately, there’s no room for that back here,” he replies. And while you were teasing, you know that Mark is serious with the way he’s looking at you.

“We can always go back to my place.” You’re teasing him again. It’s going to be the end of him, especially with the way that you twirl his hair around your finger. And when you tug on his hair? Mark swears any rational thought he has is gone.

Removing you from his lap hurts, and the drive back to your place is even more painful. For once, your hand is on his thigh. You’re pinching and squeezing him; it’s nearly impossible for him to stay focused. When you guys get to your place, there are nearly no words spoken as you two blindly navigate your apartment. You were too caught up in each other; you could worry about the clothes you leave littering the floor later.

And when you wake up in the morning, your ear pressed against Mark’s bare chest once again, you swear there’s nothing better than this.

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navstuffs · 11 months

Text

No Ordinary Love

Pairing: Leon x SuccubusFemale!Reader

Summary: Leon Kennedy is addicted to you.

Warnings: songfic, SMUT, touch-starved leon, needy!leon, reader does feed on him

Author's Notes: hello! this fanfic is so important to me due to the song that inspired me to write: No Ordinary Love by Sade. if you don't know Sade, please go and listen to her. it was super hard to edit this fanfic cause the song is so freaking good and i kept getting distracted. anyway, reader is a succubus, but she might not be a "proper" succubus, i will adapt for my writing needs. this fanfic might have a prequel (how they met, after re2 events) and a sequel, so we shall see. i hope you enjoy!

leon's masterlist

"I gave you all the love I got I gave you more than I could give Gave you love"

It is late when Leon Kennedy knocks on the familiar door after just landing from Spain. He is exhausted, with images of the last days tormenting his head. Ada. Ashley. Luis's death. As a loop, he sees their faces over and over again. He shakes his head, trying to focus on the door before him and the person who will open it. Some part of him knows he shouldn't be there, something deep inside his soul is telling him to leave, he doesn't deserve you, but when the door flies open, all thoughts inside his head disappear.

Everything else disappears around him.

There is no more Ada. No more Ashley, Luis, or even Leon S. Kennedy. Only you.

"I gave you all that I have inside And you took my love You took my love(...)"

You wear an oversized black shirt that goes just above your knees. Your beauty always seems to leave him breathless because no one should look this stunning. It is unfair. Leon forgets how to speak and how to act. He is just a rookie all over again. The hopeless rookie who met you years ago, desperate for some comfort, any comfort after Racoon City. Only you matter right now. Shit, he hasn't realized how much he missed you. Your touch. Your kisses. Your warmth.

"Do you know what time it is, Kennedy?" You yawn, crossing your arms. Understandable, he woke you up in the middle of the night. You had all the right to be angry if you wanted; Leon feels like shit about it, though he couldn't wait until the morning to see you.

"Yes. May I come in?" His voice way is softer than his usual tone, but again, he is different when it comes to you. He is not the same person around you.

Your eyebrows arch, surprised, and Leon notices your nipples harden against your shirt. Perfect.

"I don't know. Can you?"

"When you came my way You brightened every day With your sweet smile(...)"

Please, let me in. Please, Leon begs mentally, and you smirk as if listening to his silent pleas. As if you could read his mind, knowing precisely how much he needs you.

"Please?" Leon murmurs, looking at your bare feet, not believing how fragile his voice sounds.

Not after all those things he had killed or everything he had gone through, he would still be clay in your hands. It didn't matter how many times he saved the world or how many he killed, you would still be the one who put Leon on his knees, this invisible force pulling him for you.

Leon doesn't know what would happen to him if you deny him. He might die as a thirsty man who got close to the oasis but failed to drink the water. Or got so close to the sun and burned himself before touching it. All those thoughts rush through his mind before your feet finally, finally give him passage, and Leon thanks mentally for your benevolence.

Leon starts walking into your house before you stop him, hands on his chest. You stare at his expression for a second, and Leon's heart beats so fast that he finally feels like living again.

"You don't look well. Was it hard this time?"

Leon's mind flashes with everything that happened to him in the last couple of days. He doesn't have to say anything: you know Leon better than anyone. You nod as if reading his mind again, closing the door.

"I will take care of you. Come."

"Didn't I give you All that I've got to give, baby(...)"

Leon's mind drifts away. He would lie if he said he didn't like the taste you left on his body, his heart, on his soul. You were like a drug, the strongest he had ever tasted.

"Leon."

Oh, how much he missed your moans. Your desperate sobs of his name as he pushed his cock inside of you, as a madman. There is nothing, nothing in this world that would separate you from him.

"Leon."

"I keep trying for you There's nothing like you and I, baby(...)"

He doesn't know what happens when he is inside of you, a feeling he can't describe. It is different from everything he tried before: you delight him. You keep him there while you take away the pain, sadness, and anything he had inside. You amplify all his senses as you empty them. He watches as your boobs bounce and your eyes light with a strange glow, but he doesn't care. Leon only cares about being yours.

He moans a lot, too: he begs. Begs for you not to leave him, begs you to stay with him forever, and implores you to love him. Tells you there is no else for him, except for you.

Leon can feel you are close, and he trembles under your power, trying to match your thrusts. All he can focus on is how tight you are squeezing him now, how delicious you look on top of him, how much he loves being yours, being loved by you.

"This is no ordinary love No ordinary love"

When Leon cums, his vision gets hazy. He holds your ass down rougher than he would want, so you don't move. He likes to feel his seed inside you, his eyes rolling to his head.

Leon Kennedy ceases to exist to exist again only because of you.

When you fall to his side, Leon can't move. He never moves after cumming inside of you, that feeling of you squeezing tight, taking all that he has. Leon feels your gentle hand taking his hair from his sweaty face, kissing his lips, and savoring it. He moans in your mouth, grabbing your hips with the bit of strength he still has.

"Feeling better, Leon?"

Leon nods, his big blue eyes begging him not to leave you. To stay with him forever. He is more exhausted than when he arrived, but he is grateful. You smile compassionately, the strange glow in your eyes slowly disappearing, laying your head on his chest.

"I lo-"

"Shhh, Leon. You have to rest now. Everything will be okay in the morning. Sleep, my love."

As a command, you watch Leon Kennedy sink into darkness. You sigh, listening to his heartbeats, the sensation of satisfaction and fullness in your veins not enough to dismiss the tiny feeling of worry you had before. Or the happiness when you saw him. Or the feeling that he belongs to you and only you. There were too small to consider but not small enough to ignore. You shake your head and find yourself foolish as you make circles on Leon's chest. Now, after all the years, was not the time to get sentimentalist. You fall asleep, ignoring the sensation of comfort of being in Leon's arms.

"Keep trying for you Keep crying for you Keep lying for you Keep flying and I'm falling

And I'm falling"

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy has heart eyes for this reader #while reader is like YES MIDNIGHT SNACK #this fanfic is so important to me!! leon is so lucky for me to choose him to be a sade theme song #he has no idea

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crazy-ache · 3 months

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Elain Archeron x Lucien Vanserra Fanfiction Check out my full list below.

Oneshots

Title: Separate My Body From My Soul NSFW | Elain Rescues Lucien | Forced Mating Bond | Oneshot “I am Elain Archeron, sister of the High Lady of Night, Feyre the Cursebreaker. I’ve come to demand the release of Lucien Vanserra back to the custody of the Night Court.”

"And why would I do that?" The High Lord of Autumn demanded.

“Because he is my mate.”

When Lucien Vanserra is held captive by his father in the cruel depths of Autumn, there is only one force more powerful than politics that can save him—his mating bond with Elain Archeron. She must make the choice to save him, even if it means binding their souls forever.

Title: Call Me Selfish, Call Me Wrecked NSFW | Arranged Marriage | Smut | Oneshot Like countless times before, they’re dangling Elain in front of him without a mention of her name. And for once, Lucien decides to selfishly take it. “I’ll marry her,” he pretends to investigate his nails, even if his heart is about to burst from his fucking chest. “But only if she agrees to it as well. That’s my only condition.”

Elain agrees. Lucien learns the consequences of not shutting up.

Title: A Cut Above the Rest SFW | Oneshot | Elain and Lucien on the run “Wait!” Elain clambered to her feet, jumping off the bed. He looked at her expectedly, dagger in one hand and a handful of hair in the other. What was there to say? That she had always secretly adored his hair just the way it was? That he couldn’t possibly cut it before she even had the chance to run her fingers through it? “Let me do it,” she said.

While on the run in the Continent, Elain and Lucien must discuss what has remained unspoken after a frightening incident.

Title: Courting Lucien Vanserra NSFW | Idiots to Lovers | 2/3 Chapters Completed “I think it may be too late for us, that I was a wretch for far too long and now he wants nothing to do with me—” Elain blurted out in a teary confession to her sisters. Nesta, face like stone, hissed. “Then there is only one thing left to do. You must thoroughly and ardently court him.”

Elain’s tears stopped rolling down her face with utter confusion. “Court him?”

“You need to seduce Lucien,” Feyre clarified with a feral grin.

Title: bet on me SFW | Drinking Games | Oneshot Elain is caught sulking at her sister's mating ceremony. Lucien wagers a drinking game to prove who knows the other best.

“Go on. Tell me all about myself, Lucien Vanserra.”

And there is the matter of something charged sitting between them at the table. He was challenging her. An invitation for friction, a consideration to be included in the joke, a bid to entwine in something deliciously improper. Elain could not remember the last time anyone had offered her anything remotely tantalizing.

Title: i would stay forever (just don't go) SFW | Oneshot “You! You torment me, Lucien. Day and night. You fill my dreams and nightmares." Elain struggles to know what is real and not real. And only Lucien can help.

Title: in eternal bloom SFW | Lucien Meets Papa | Oneshot On the quest to find the sixth mortal queen, Lucien Vanserra meets a human with brown eyes and that same stubborn Archeron nose. Together, on their search for Vassa, Lucien befriends Elain’s father, and learns a bit more about his mate.

Title: curses and gifts SFW | GroundhogDayAU! | Oneshot

In which Elain is cursed to live that fateful day with the Cauldron again and again and again. Until a choice is made.

Multi-Chapter

Title: Divine Punishments NSFW | Elain Saves Spring | Multific Elain foresees a curse in the form of terrible visions. An unexplained plague was coming and the immortal fae were going to suffer and die by the rotten sickness. She needs to meet her fate—with her powers and her mating bond—if she hopes to save Spring.

Oneshots & Drabbles

Title: Choke on Desire Drabbles | Crossposted on Tumblr | Various Genres If we do the unthinkable, would it make us look crazy? If you ask me, I'm ready.

#elucien #elucien masterlist #elucien fic #elucien fanfiction #crazyache writes

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aziraphales-library · 6 months

Note

I *love* any fics where Crowley is hurt incredibly bad and Aziraphale must save him or bring him back to health. I also LOVE fics that delve into trauma or mental health which stripes the characters of their mask and they must rely on someone/each other. Do you have any recommendations for fics that are either, or both? Happy endings are a major must for me, but I am open to any suggestions!

You'll want to check our #crowley whump, #hurt crowley, and #protective aziraphale tags for loads of fics like this. Here are some that may or may not have been recommended before, but mind the tags on all of these!...

Where's My Mind? by ebullience24 (T)

See, the thing is: Crowley is tall. His height had caused a few stares back in the days where the tallest man stood at five foot five. And, because of his height, one might be inclined to describe him as slender with spindly fingers and snake-hips. The pun is never intended on that last one but it stands true nonetheless. And Crowley would be likely to agree with these statements: he is tall and slender and spindly and snake-hipped. But what Crowley would be less likely to agree upon is the statement that he, Anthony J Crowley, is underweight. OR: Crowley has an eating disorder. Trigger Warnings now and at the beginning of each chapter.

Safe Haven by McRaider (T)

When Anthony Crowley stepped back into Aziraphale's life for the first time after eight long years missing, it became exceedingly clear with him came a world of trouble and heartache. But Aziraphale never could say no to his beloved Crowley. Can he help Crowley heal after a failed marriage, a gas-lighting ex-wife with an evil plan?

To Speak the Unspoken by ihamtmus (T)

“Uhhhh… Hi,” Crowley started lamely, scrambling to find a way to explain the situation as quickly as possible. His mind was refusing to work properly, thoughts slow as if doused in oil. He hadn’t really thought about what to say on his way here – he’d been too busy focusing on the getting here part before he would collapse. “I was wondering if I could… If I could maybe die in here, if you don’t mind..?” The expression on Aziraphale’s face changed abruptly, telling him that the angel did, in fact, mind. (In which a mortally wounded demon just wants to get somewhere quiet to die but his Adversary will have none of it. A story of how they both learn just how much they care.)

Death in Love by Aspirina_Effervescente & Cyanidechan (M)

After tempting a composer to fame and success, Crowley is cursed by his wife and tormented by her ghost until the end of his days. Aziraphale would do anything to save him, the only problem is that he doesn't know what's going on and, anyway, the problem could be much more complicated than it seems. Inspired by Giuseppe Tartini’s Sonata “the Devil’s trill”

Drops of Sorrow by EdosianOrchids901 (M)

Ten years after the failed Apocalypse, Crowley is captured by Heaven. Gabriel plans to use him as bait to lure Aziraphale into a fight. Can Crowley survive captivity, and will Aziraphale be able to rescue him without walking into the trap?

A Touch of Heaven by IneffableToreshi (E)

A despondent and defeated Crowley has been through the ringer, moreso even than his roommate, Newt, realizes. After a car accident puts him though a number of surgeries and a temporary - but terrifying - few weeks of blindness, the club owner wants nothing more than to curl up in his bed and refuse to move until things return to normal...or as normal as they'll ever be again. Newt - and his cafe-owning girlfriend, Anathema - have other plans. They think that Crowley just needs some care and pampering, so Anathema schedules him a special, off-hours appointment with a friend of hers who is a rather sought-after masseur. Crowley is hesitant and stubborn, but Aziraphale's soothing voice and comforting nature soon win him over, in more ways than one...

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #hurt/comfort #crowley whump #hurt crowley #protective aziraphale #crowley has ptsd #mind the tags #mod d

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wandabear · 10 months

Text

All my dreams, they fade away (I'll never be the same)

ㅤㅤ

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female reader status: this is a 'You always love me more (when we're miles away)' sequel. part two, alternative ending. You asked for it, im giving. ㅤㅤ

part one - part two

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHAPTER TWO

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I just woke up from a fuzzy dream... You never would believe those things that I have seen. I looked in the mirror and I saw your face. You looked right through me, you were miles away. All my dreams they fade away I'll never be the same. ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤ

The sadness never left her heart. ㅤㅤ

Despite the fact that she was raised to overcome any kind of pain, including letting go of her feelings and ignore them to the point of forgetting that they exist, the only pain she had ever been able to overcome was the death of the person she loved the most.

Because she loved her, she loved Y/N, until her dying day.

ㅤㅤ

Every night, nightmares tormented the widow. Sometimes memories of the Red Room and other times, even worse.

ㅤㅤ

The room was cold. The rain crashed against the window of that stormy night in Buenos Aires. But the cozy sound of the rain was suddlendly interrupted by the sound of gunshots; a young woman ran through the corridors of that building trying to cover herself.

ㅤㅤ

“I'm going, you take them.” she told the redhead, pointing to the people they were trying to protect and get out alive from that floor.

ㅤㅤ

"I'm not going to leave you here all alone, I came to help you." Natasha assured shaking her head.

ㅤㅤ

“Please, Sam, tell her…” Y/N swallowed and took courage, more than ever, remembering why she had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. And she thought about telling Natasha so many things, thought about sending her endless messages, but the brunette just ignored it. The Black Widow wouldn't be interested in knowing anyway. “Thank you, Sam.”

ㅤㅤ

Without further ado, Y/N raised her weapons and battled in that hallway with every watchdog that crossed her path. Even though Natasha tried to take her arm, the hand passed through Y/N as if she were intangible. ㅤㅤ

All she could do was watch as Y/N confronted them with gunshots and hand to hand, beating as many as she could. And every time they fell, Y/N was shot. First in her abdomen, and still, she didn't stop.

ㅤㅤ

Two more fell, until another bullet went through her leg and shoulder.

ㅤㅤ

And despite the pain, and the blood that began to trickle down her lips, she kept shooting and fighting until one of the bullets pierced her chest.

ㅤㅤ

But Natasha couldn't do anything, see everything and not be able to do anything was killing her. The screaming and crying, no one could hear her.

But at the end of that fight, no Watchdog was left alive, and that made Y/N smile slightly before falling to the ground.

ㅤㅤ “Please, save me.” Y/N barely asked, chocking on the blood.

ㅤㅤ

“I'll do it. Please, моя любовь, stay with me.” Natasha begged, pressing the wound on her belly and chest. So much blood, so many shots, it was impossible for her not to start bleeding to death. The redhead began to despair in tears.

ㅤㅤ

Natasha looked into those beautiful but sad eyes, Y/N’s eyes started to lose that lovely glow. But Y/N looked at her whispering: “You can’t do it... You sent me here to die.”

ㅤㅤ

“What?” The spy shook her head and quickly stammered: “No, don’t say that.”

ㅤㅤ

“You killed me first.” Before she could say anything, Y/N took one more breath before finally dying. Her gaze lost, the red on her body contrasting with the skin, and that red hourglass pendant on her chest reminded Natasha that she had caused the damage.

ㅤㅤ

“No, no, no, please… stay!” Natasha tried to wake her up, but she was the one who did it when a thunder finally woke her up from that nightmare.

ㅤㅤ

The redhead sat on the bed, looking around the dark room. The window in front of her showed the huge and vast forest that surrounded the Compound and the lightning in the sky.

ㅤㅤ

Another nightmare, again.

ㅤㅤ

Like every day, Natasha got up and showered before going down to the kitchen so she could drink a steaming cup of coffee. The russian looked at herself in the mirror, stroking that little moon under her ear. That small tattoo that had been done long ago in Y/N's memory. Y/N always reminded her that when she was born, there was a beautiful waning moon.

Her mornings were silent until the others began to wake up, the only one she sometimes used to join was Wanda.

ㅤㅤ

Wanda, who at first hated her deeply. The sokovian kept reminding her that Y/N's death was in her hands, and how much she hurted her.

But as the days and weeks passed, Wanda realized that Natasha was also suffering in her own way. The Black Widow’s thoughts were really overwhelming, so much so that Wanda had to get away from her in order to deal with her own pain.

ㅤㅤ

Two years later, they maintained a nice friendship. Pain brought them together like never before, but none of them finished healing.

ㅤㅤ

Clint was by her side too, he never abandoned Nat even though she didn't want to ruin his happiness with his family.

But then the world changed, and with it came chaos.

Thanos attacked, the world fell into desolation, her friends and sister left, leaving Natasha Romanoff even more alone.

ㅤㅤ

Why? why keep fighting? She wondered that a thousand times, trying to keep the Compound going.

That strong and seductive woman, so sure of each step she took, was beginning to fall behind. Although she always felt, she just didn't feel she deserved it.

ㅤㅤ

Those hard green eyes now showed absolute sadness. But suddenly, in the most darkest place, there was a hope. A tiny scrap, like a captivating little glow, just had to fight again.

ㅤㅤ

Fight and they’ll be back.

ㅤㅤ

She owed it to Y/N, her best friend was victim of the snap. The least she could do was save Yelena and Wanda. Just had to take a little trip back in time and everything, everything would be fine.

ㅤㅤ

“We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back.” Steve told each of them but mostly, he fixed his gaze on Nat who nodded. He was her closest friend all these years.

ㅤㅤ

“You know your teams. You know your missions. Most of us are going somewhere we know, that doesn't mean we should know what to expect.” Nat added and they all stood at that machine, ready to go. “We're gonna win. Whatever it takes.”

ㅤㅤ

Minutes after having lived the strangest trip of their fucking lives, Steve, Bruce, Natasha and Clint appeared in 2012 New York, where they would try to steal the scepter but everything got a bit messy.

ㅤㅤ

Without the scepter and the tesseract, the best plan was to go back in time to the perfect place to find tjem.

Steve and Tony would go to 1970, to look for the tesseract and pym particles. Natasha and Clint, to the last place they saw the scepter and the pym particles as well.

ㅤㅤ

Once Clint and Nat appeared in the Compound several years ago, they looked at each other.

ㅤㅤ

2016.

ㅤㅤ

“Ready?” Clint asked as the quantum suit disappeared, both of them wearing rather usual clothing. They both had pretty good alibis, Natasha was on a personal mission and Clint was away with his family for a week.

ㅤㅤ

They both walked through the place in a certain hurry, going completely unnoticed. None of the agents seemed surprised to see them.

ㅤㅤ

“I’ll go for the scepter, you take the particles." Clint muttered, taking the opposite corridor. The plan was simple, she had to go to the labs and take the particles that Scott kept in the vaults. Easy.

ㅤㅤ

After taking them and smiling to see how Bruce was busy trying to understand something on the screen, Natasha left the lab with a victorious smile.

They would go home and bring everyone with them.

ㅤㅤ

But what she least expected was to bump into someone while crossing the hall. The particles were about to crash to the ground, but the widow was faster and caught them instantly.

ㅤㅤ

“Fuck!” Y/N grumbled picking up her stuff, the coffee she was carrying stained on the papers that she now had to sign again. “Oh, sorry, Agent Romanoff.”

ㅤㅤ

Those words seemed so empty, Natasha looked up to see nothing more than the stripping of what her beloved had been. The dark circles, the sadness in those eyes. Especially when she saw Natasha smile happily as she left the laboratory where Bruce was.

ㅤㅤ

Natasha finally remembered, she spent those two weeks avoiding Y/N, trying not to deal with the decisions she made. Oh, of course Nat remembered that day, because it was a day before Y/N died.

ㅤㅤ

She was alive. Y/N was still alive.

ㅤㅤ

‘Nat, what are you doing? You know you can’t-’

ㅤㅤ

But Natasha completely ignored Clint's voice in the earpiece, she felt her heart beating so fast again, fought hard not to come closer and hug Y/N tightly. She fought the urge to tell her that she loved her, that her wounded heart was hers and that in years, she wasn’t able to let her go. And never would. She fought the urge to tell Y/N, finally confess, that she was the love of her life.

ㅤㅤ

“It’s okay, I was able to catch them.” Natasha murmured, trying to calm herself down and look like it was nothing.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N nodded and then stared at redhead for a moment, frowning. Her gaze fell on that little moon on her neck, finally encouraged to ask: “Did you dye your hair tips blonde?”

ㅤㅤ

Nat swallowed, clearly having forgotten that over time, things changed. Y/N never experienced the events that she did. What she least expected was that someone would notice the blonde tips of her red hair.

ㅤㅤ

“Oh yeah, I was... trying something.” The russian spy cleared her throat and looked away, putting the particles away without Y/N noticing.

ㅤㅤ

“Interesting.” Almost like an imperceptible whisper, Y/N realized that Natasha couldn't even look at her.

Did she hate her guts that much? Did Natasha ever really loved her? She couldn't even see Y/N's face after dumping her.

It was so painful, seeing her so beautiful and impossible. Not like a crush, this time, much worse.

ㅤㅤ

‘Natasha, we have to go now.’

ㅤㅤ

“Okay, I have to go.” Natasha walked away from her, leaving Y/N behind one more time. And every step she took was the most painful; a stab to her heart. But what if…?

ㅤㅤ

“Y/N?” She turned. “Watchdogs mission tomorrow?”

ㅤㅤ

‘Natasha, don’t do it.’ Clint again.

ㅤㅤ

“You can't go, I will take you off the list.” The russian said with a coolness that sent a chill down her own spine.

ㅤㅤ

“What? Why?!” Y/N approached frowning, quite shocked. It was an incredible opportunity, this mission would be the one that would save her from the dark pit she was in right now. “I've been working on that mission with Sam for a while. You can't do that!”

ㅤㅤ

“You need to stay here, look at those fucking dark circles you have there. You’re ineffective like this.” Natasha acted in the coldest way she could, this time, feeling her heart break as she saw Y/N's eyes filled with tears. She could see her chin twitch and it felt horrible. “Tomorrow's operation is important and you need to rest. You're staying at the Compound until the end of the week.”

ㅤㅤ

Natasha started walking towards the exit, using one of Stark tech's pads to disable Y/N from the mission, but the brunette didn't stay there. Y/N followed after her, pissed off.

ㅤㅤ No one could go over Romanoff's orders, if she didn't authorize it, Y/N wouldn't go.

ㅤㅤ

“You can't do that. I need it!” y/n begged, swallowing the bitterness in her throat. “Natasha, look at me. You coward! Look me in the face!”

ㅤㅤ

Natasha tried not to show her feelings, and it was getting harder and harder. Y/N steps forward to look at the redhead but the redhead doesn't even look at her eyes at all.

ㅤㅤ

“You can step on me and treat me like shit, but inside I know very well that one day you will realize what you are doing… and it will be too late. You'll regret it.” Y/N said from the depths of her being, knowing that it was anger and bitterness that spoke.

ㅤㅤ

“I already did, my love.” Nat whispered, closing her eyes, quickening her pace to get to the Hangar.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N stayed behind, looking more broken than ever. The last thing Natasha heard was: “You can't take everything from me!”

ㅤㅤ

Once Natasha realized that Y/N was no longer around, she allowed herself to lean behind one of the quinjets and shed a few tears. The spy pressed her lips together and closed her eyes trying to calm down.

She kept hugging herself for a moment until some footsteps made her jump, ready to attack.

ㅤㅤ

“Hey, it’s me.” Clint came out of hiding carrying the scepter. “Did you see her?”

ㅤㅤ

Nat said nothing, just wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her suit.

ㅤㅤ

“You did it.” The archer narrowed his eyes, knowing that woman perfectly. “You told her not to do it, right? You told her not to go.”

ㅤㅤ

“I pulled her off the mission.” Nat pouted a little. “She's not physically or mentally ready to go, and Steve will never let her go if he sees what I wrote.”

ㅤㅤ

Clint just sighed deeply. “You're a bit of a bitch. Now you broke her heart a bit more.”

ㅤㅤ

“But at least she'll be alive. I can't go back and make everything between us didn’t happen.” Natasha sniffled. “But I can change one thing... I know I can't stop her from hating me, but I can stop her from dying. And you know if you were me, you would too.”

ㅤㅤ

Shaking his head, Clint looked around.

Nat was right, right now he was risking everything to bring his family back. Could understand Natasha perfectly.

ㅤㅤ

“I know.” The archer looked at her worriedly and then nodded. “And if it doesn't work? What if she dies days later? Or weeks or months later?”

ㅤㅤ

“At least I have tried.” She said with her shaky voice, lips quivering for a moment.

ㅤㅤ

And although he had known Natasha for a long time, Clint would never have thought that he would see her that way. She was a badass, and cold sometimes but also a very sweet and kind woman, perhaps because Clint never thought he would see Natasha Romanoff in love.

Clint came over to hug her for a moment.

ㅤㅤ

Smiling slightly, he said: “Whatever it takes.”

ㅤㅤ

After a few minutes, everything was ready, they disappeared. Finally coming back to the present.

ㅤㅤ

Finally they managed to bring back everyone, Bruce was injured but slowly he began to recover.

Natasha walked through the Compound, smiling and seeing how everyone was reunited with coworkers, friends and loved ones.

ㅤㅤ

The redhead shed a few happy tears when Yelena's call came within minutes of Bruce making the snap. Natasha took some time to explain, but she was much calmer knowing that the blonde would soon arrive in the quinjet to the Compound. She posed in front of the huge window, feeling an enormous peace after the chaos.

ㅤㅤ

In the distance, a brunette approached her to melt into a strong hug. Wanda shed a few tears, happy to see Nat again and of course sad. One of her best friends, Vision, died and it was too recent for her.

ㅤㅤ

“Thank you.” Wanda sighed and dried her tears. “Thanks for all you did.”

ㅤㅤ

“You don't have to thank. You are family.” Natasha squeezed her shoulder and then hesitated whether to tell her. “I need to tell you something. Something I did...”

ㅤㅤ

The Black Widow just turned to look out the window. Didn't know what kind of consequences would bring, or if there wouldn't be any, but she had to share it.

Nat took some time to explain everything they had done. Going back to the past, stealing the stones and especially, the part where she altered that day in Y/N’s life.

ㅤㅤ

How she broke her heart once more, just to save Y/N’s life.

ㅤㅤ

“Are you sure about this?” Wanda asked when she noticed the concern in the widow’s eyes. Of course, if it was the other way around, Wanda would have done exactly the same thing, maybe worse.

ㅤㅤ

“I tried to warn her. That day.” Natasha watched as one of the quinjets landed in the hangar. The same hangar where she last saw Y/N.

Dead in her arms, and then, alive. “She was so sad, it was the day before the mission.”

ㅤㅤ

Natasha looked down, her heart aching just remembering it. “What if I made it worse?”

ㅤㅤ

Wanda sighed, remembering Y/N and everything they had suffered because of her death. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could be worse than that.

ㅤㅤ

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., we need to know something...” The sokovian finally took courage, approaching one of the screens on the walls. Natasha frowned but followed her anyway. “Give us all the information you can find about Y/N Y/L/N, please.”

ㅤㅤ

Natasha closed her eyes, steeling herself for what was to come. Praying that whatever God was above would help her.

ㅤㅤ

“Of course, Ms. Maximoff.” F.R.I.D.A.Y took a moment to search for it and within seconds, they looked at the information on the screens.

They saw how many images of Y/N appeared on the screen, as an agent or from her past; Natasha couldn't help but sigh.

ㅤㅤ

Finally everything stopped showing the agent file.

ㅤㅤ Y/N Y/L/N. S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent CLEARANCE LEVEL: FIVE -Operations- STATUS: UNKNOWN.

ㅤㅤ

That made Natasha's heart skip a beat.

ㅤ

“Y/N Y/L/N. Born in…” the AI started revealing the personal information it could find in the reports, until it got to the most important part. “Currently living in Buenos Aires.”

ㅤㅤ

“It worked.” Natasha sighed in disbelief, now her eyes are filled with hope after so long. They both smiled and looked at each other happily. “It really worked.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

What to do? What to say?

ㅤㅤ

All those questions were driving her crazy. Wanda was too insistent that she should go see her, and despite the fact that Natasha wished with all her being to meet again with who she knew was the love of her life, she doubted.

She doubted even now, being right now in front of that wooden door, the house number was the one that F.R.I.D.A.Y indicated to them, everything was fine. But she wasn't okay, she wasn't being herself.

ㅤㅤ

Fuck, she wasn't the same since Y/N died.

ㅤㅤ

But the moment her finger pressed the doorbell, Natasha finally knew what fear was. As her anxiety devoured her slowly like a wild animal. When the door opened, Natasha Romanoff knew she was living again at last.

ㅤㅤ

“Hola.” That woman said in a cute spanish with a soft voice. Y/N didn't look surprised to see Nat there, especially with the chaos of ‘the blip’.

ㅤㅤ

“Hi.” Natasha gasped when she saw Y/N in front of her. Hearing her voice again was so... shocking. Natasha had to make herself strong not to cry.

ㅤㅤ

“Come in.” The brunette stepped aside.

The little house in that part of town was lovely, quite nice, that's what Nat thought as she looked around.

ㅤㅤ

Especially when she turned to see her, Y/N was alive. Being more beautiful than ever, had to admit that. The hair was longer, she clearly was no longer the same girl as before, besides that now she was years older.

ㅤㅤ

“What brings the Black Widow into my house?” Y/N walked towards the kitchen, noticing that the redhead was following her steps. “I have seen what you did, brought everyone back. That’s amazing.”

ㅤㅤ

Nat smiled a bit and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I didn't do it alone, we all did it.”

ㅤㅤ

“Oh, don't be so humble, Romanoff. You know you did it.” Y/N turned to look at her. “Tea or coffee?”

ㅤㅤ

“Coffee is fine.” The redhead looked at the place carefully, she could see some photographs but there didn't seem to be anyone else in her life. “So... What happened to your life all these years?”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N sighed deeply as she poured two steaming cups of coffee, handing one to Nat. In the background, on the Tv, the journalists showed that people went out to celebrate in the streets. Happy to be back.

ㅤㅤ

“I left S.H.I.E.L.D. years ago…” Y/N drank some coffee and stood in front of Nat, seeing how much she's changed. The blonde tips revealed everything she needed to know right now, now everything made more sense. “But you already know that, don't you?”

ㅤㅤ

“Y/N…” Natasha whispered.

ㅤㅤ

“I left S.H.I.E.L.D. because the mission in which I was supposed to be that day, here in Buenos Aires, two agents that I appreciated very much died.” Y/N set the cup aside. “Strange, isn't it?”

ㅤㅤ

Natasha didn't know what to say, Y/N always been so cunning and start. It wasn’t very difficult to understand.

ㅤㅤ

“Oh, but you don’t know that.” Y/N took a step forward with her arms crossed. “Because you traveled back in time and altered my life.”

ㅤㅤ

Even though Y/N looked quite serious, she didn't look very happy or very upset by what she was saying. "What happened there with me so that you changed everything?"

ㅤㅤ

But even so, Natasha never looked down this time. She didn’t regret what she did, in fact, the widow believed that she had made the best decision of her life, would do it again as many times as necessary.

ㅤㅤ

“I did what I had to do to save you.” The redhead narrowed her eyes and then drank some coffee.

ㅤㅤ

“You were so fucking irresponsible, Romanoff.” Y/N crossed her arms.

ㅤㅤ

“Oh, was I?” Nat scoffed.

ㅤㅤ

But after a moment of silence, they both smiled at each other knowingly. Like two old souls meeting again.

ㅤㅤ

Natasha licked her lips, curious. “But… How did you know?”

ㅤㅤ

“Oh, well... It seemed strange to me when I saw that you came back to the Compound later you had your red hair, no blonde tips and not that... tiny moon tattoo on your neck, behind your ear.” Y/N pointed to her neck. ㅤㅤ

Nat just raised an eyebrow and drank again, saving herself from having to answer.

ㅤㅤ

“You took too long.” Y/N walked into the living room, turning off the tv so she could put on some music.

ㅤㅤ

“I love you, Y/N.” The redhead said, making Y/N stop and turn to look at her really surprised. “I loved you, all these years without you... You have no idea what it means to lose you.”

ㅤㅤ

Nat's lips trembled once more at just remembering it. Because now, all those experiences, they only lived in her, in her memories and in her heart.

ㅤㅤ

“I saw your body, and I couldn't do anything but feel my heart tear apart as it beat.” She swallowed, the black widow wiped away a small tear that escaped. “You have no idea how much I suffered without you all these years.”

ㅤㅤ

Nat approached and cradled Y/N's face in her hands, who looked at the widow so moved. Oh, she was no longer cold, Y/N’s face was no longer cold. Tears filled Natasha’s eyes and she allowed herself to smile. She was no longer cold anymore.

ㅤㅤ “I love you, заяц.” The redhead said with a shaky hoarse voice. “I love you very very much.”

ㅤㅤ

Finally, Natasha kissed those warm lips, melting into the most awaited and needed kiss of their lives. Seven years without her, hurt like never before.

A kiss that began slowly, full of love and deep sadness, and ended as a passionate encounter.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N wrapped around the redhead's neck, making that kiss more passionate when Natasha hugged her hips too. A kiss that ended in a big hug and tears from both of them.

ㅤㅤ “я тебя люблю.” Nat whispered, resting her forehead against her beloved's once more. But a noise at the bedroom door made them both separate.

ㅤㅤ

“I'm sorry. I’m just-” Y/N sighed and pursed her lips. “I’m not alone. I- I didn't tell you, I share my life with someone else.”

ㅤㅤ

Frowning, somewhat hurt, Natasha turned away and looked towards the door. She was ready to fight for that woman, against whoever the fuck she was, Nat wasn't going to let Y/N go easily.

ㅤㅤ

“Oh.” She muttered when she saw that Y/N was approaching the door and shifted in her place, a bit nervous. “I didn’t know-”

ㅤㅤ

But when the door finally opened, an adorable and cunning black cat walked elegantly out of the room. The cat rubbed against Y/N's legs, using its best weapon of manipulation to get some food.

ㅤㅤ

“This is Luna.” Y/N smiled and walked towards the cupboard to take one of the cans of cat food and Luna's bowl. “Natasha, Luna. Luna, Natasha.”

ㅤㅤ

Feeling her soul coming back to her body, Nat just smiled and leaned in to slowly bring her hand closer to the cat. “She’s cute.”

ㅤㅤ

Luna narrowed her eyes and sniffed Nat’s hand before finally accepting her, rubbing against the widow’s legs. Adopting Natasha Romanoff as her own as well.

ㅤㅤ

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N saw how silent fireworks lit up the sky in the distance, so she turned off the lights so that the place would be illuminated by them.

On the radio, you could hear one of your favorite songs.

ㅤㅤ

‘If I could turn the page... In time then I'd rearrange just a day or two.’

ㅤㅤ

“Do you want to eat Chinese?” Y/N smirked, taking a step forward to give a new start to both of their lives. “I don't feel like cooking and we have a lot to talk about.”

ㅤㅤ

‘...but I couldn't find a way, so I'll settle for one day to believe in you. Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies.’

ㅤㅤ

Natasha's eyes filled with tears one more time when she saw Y/N's face illuminated by those beautiful colors, red, purple, blue. Her kind smile, her gaze, her lips, her nose.

So full of life, so hers.

Thanks to whoever it is for this new opportunity.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yes, I would like that. I would like very much.” Nat finally smiled. “I love you.”

ㅤㅤ

So, you guys wanted a happy ending. And I tried to do my best to steal a smile from you. 🌼

Hope you liked it, even if you decided to stay with the 'sad' ending.

ㅤㅤ

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

195 notes · View notes

azsluttyslut · 5 months

Text

Born to die

Azriel x f!reader

TW: blood, violence, angst, fluff, near death experience.

Word count: 3883

Azriel POV

-Flashback-

Feet don't fail me now

Take me to the finish line

Oh, my heart it breaks every step that I take

But I'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine

He was corner there was no fucking scape, but all he could think about was that least his mate was safe, his only comfort at the moment, lovely (Y/N), always so sweet and caring. “It had my absolute honor to had been with her for the last 60 years” he thought to himself still fighting for his life.

The tried to fight as best as he could, the trained for situations like this his whole life, so he pushed himself harder, Azriel's only goal to see his mate at leat one more time, she deserves to know how much he love, his absolute everything. So that’s what he did, and killed soldiers under Koschie command left and right, but there was no point, they were everywhere and he was losing power, strength and he was so fucking exhausted, this was a losing game. That was until he felt a surge of power, he have never experienced that much power, not even from his brother and High Lord.

It was astonishing how can that blast killed every soldier around him, he himself wasn’t sure how he survived, it was like they melted, all the gore of the soldiers that were surrounding him was everywhere it was a a goo of blood, skin and bones. When Azriel turn around to see who was the person that save him, he couldn’t believe his eyes, his beautiful mate was there, she has never told Azriel about her powers, he never pushed her too afraid to say the wrong thing, she just told him that it brought bad memories and it was her trauma to bear. But watching her use her powers just so she can save Azriel it made him love her even more and for a moment it brought him this sense of peace, it was as if the Mother told him that everything was going to be okay, that this moment even as short as it was, was just one of many to come.

But that sense of peace went as quickly as it came. Because the moment he took a step forward to reach her, in a blink of an eye there was a one of the enchanted soldiers behind here, and before he can voice that, a fucking sword with faesbane was passing through her stomach and the feeling of pain he feel through the bond brought him to his knees and he scream, and scream, and in pure act of willingness only fuel by his anger he killed all around his path until he got to her, screaming and cursing the Mother for being so cruel moments. And then everything went black.

It could be days, or months he didn’t care how much time it passed since he last was conscious, not after the moment he woke up and everything came crashing down. He tried to reach for the bond but the was nothing. Not even his shadows were with him. He didn’t know to much time passed until Rhys came to the healing chambers to check on Azriel.

“Hello Brother, I'm happy to see you finally awake” he just stared at him blankly,the numbness consumed every finer of his body, he knows Rhysand went through the same but at least Feyre came back, instead he watch his mate died, he felt the pain and sure as hell he still feels the void in his chest, his very soul were once was a gold thread, full of love, joy and fulfilment. And as if reading his mind that Azriel is almost sure he did, he says “ she’s not dead, brother”.

-End of the flashback-

Walking through the city streets

Is it by mistake or design?

I feel so alone on the Friday nights

Can you make it feel like home if I tell you you're mine?

It's like I told you, honey (louder)

It’s been a month since the day Azriel woke up, and you are still unconscious, Rhys told him his shadows haven’t left you sight, that brought him a bit of confort. The loneliness consumed his already tormented soul, he never felt this alone in his life, not even when he was a child in the care of those bastards.

Madja doesn’t know when you are going to wake up, but they are sure you will, maybe they are saying that just to make him feel better, he doesn’t know at this point, the void that is the bond wights on him everyday, they won the war but he just feels lost.

Rhys encourage him to seek help with one of Madja's mental health healers, they told him that maybe if he does things that you both used to do together would make him feel better, but walking around Velaris without you it makes him feel empty. Not even your house in the suburbs feels like home, that’s where he made you his, when he devoted himself to you, and the memories are too much, too unbearable without you.

•1 week later•

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Sometimes love is not enough

And the road gets tough, I don't know why

Keep making me laugh

Let's go get high

The road is long, we carry on

Try to have fun in the meantime

The memories haunt Azriel like a plague everyday, all the laughs you share, the kisses, the all nighters, both of you getting drunk and high because you were bored. The memories playing in his head stopped the moment he felt the golden thread, all this time it’s has been a dim almost white, a white that made him feel hopeless, but right now it’s recovering color as if you were healing and recovering consciousness.

The tears blinded his eyes and the sob of relief that leaves his mouth, his entire body shook with the force of the sobs. He couldn’t stop the only thoughts running through his mind was “Y/N is waking up”, but even if that was true he could bring himself to go to see you. He couldn’t make himself be hopeful, and knew the only people that could help were his brothers.

Rhys! Rhys! RHYS!! BRING CASSIAN!

Rhysand appeared within seconds with Cassian in tow ready to attack, nothing would prepared them for the sight that greeted them. Azriel looked like a fallen angel, with tears streaming down his cheeks, face blotchy, red eyes, trembling body and slumped wings.

“Are you okay?” Cassian ask his voice frantic, searching for anything, they have never seen ghe shadowsinger like this, in all the years of friendship, he has never been the emotional friend, the only time Azriel cried beside when he was a kid was when Rhys came home form under the Mountain. He still remembers the grief of losing his brother and not been able to do anything to help. But that pain was minuscule compared to the thought and feeling of losing you.

“Az what’s happening? You are scaring us” Cassian voice make Azriel snaps out of his grieving thoughts, the tears and sobs don’t stop, he can bring himself to stop feeling.

“T-the bond” the sobs that leaves his mouth shooks his whole body, not even been able to form coherent sentence, the warlord and the high lord look at each other without knowing what to say, not knowing how to approach this topic.

“What about the bond” Rhys ask carefully, too carefully to the spymaster liking, but he doesn’t care, he feels the bond recovering it’s power, it makes his soul mend just a fraction.

“It- it’s not dim anymore” Both males sigh in relief “Rhys, I need you to check her, I-I can’t, I can’t get my hopes up, please” Rhysand gives Azriel a court nod and his gaze become distant, meaning that he’s asking Feyre. After about 10 minutes that felt like an eternity, Rhys has a small smile while looking at his broken brother. Stepping closer so he can comfort him while explaining what Feyre told him.

“She’s regaining consciousness, Madja said any of this days she would be awake again” After that the shadowsinger didn’t stopped crying of relief until he feel asleep. Cass and Rhys stayed the night, making sure that Adriel was okay.

-Flashback-

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane, so (louder)

Choose your last words, this is the last time

'Cause you and I, we were born to die

The night before the last battle it was raining, while you and your mate were at your tent, cuddle up.

“Let’s take a walk” Y/N said with those (e/c) eyes that the spymaster love to get lost in. And he knew he could never say no to those eyes while they look at him as if he’s the only person on earth, Azriel always tends to agree to whatever you wants, this time it wasn’t any different. He loves the spontaneous things you do, sometimes some of the things you wants to do border insanity, but he loves every aspect of his mate. So without a thought he took your hand while leading you outside.

“Angel be careful it’s raining, I don’t want you to get sick” the shadowsinger said, he knows fae don’t get sick easily but he always worry about you. Your only response was only a snort of laughter, and oh boy! how he love that sound.

“Az, you know as well as I do, fae don’t get sick easily, why don’t we dance in the rain, and just listen to the pattern of the rain” Your eyes glowed with joy as you looked at him expectantly, he didn’t hesitate in taking your hand and dragging you until we are chest to stomach, while you start to sway with his hands on your hips and yours around his neck, with your head laid on Azriel chest.

The shadowsinger couldn’t stop watching you, admiring more likely, he didn’t take his eyes away even while they were swaying to the sound of the rain and the latter soaking your clothes, but after some time he couldn’t contain himself and kissed you as hard as he could pouring all his love and devotion he feel for you, sending it through the bond and through the kiss. After that you two went back to the tent, drop the wet clothes and he showed you how much he loves you throughout the night.

But in the morning the bubble you’d encompass yourselves in exploded, because of how Rhys made the strategy for the last battle.

“Azriel I don’t care if Rhysand gave you the order or not, you will not be standing in the fucking front lines, I swear to the mother you cross that tent and…” Yelling got you nowhere with Adriel Y/N knew that as much, but even then he could still see the fear you held of the idea of him on the front. But his anger overpowered his common sense.

“Or what? Are you going to do what? (Y/N) this is for the best, I know how to protect myself, I know my limit. This is for our future, so yes I’m going to cross that tent because this is who I am, this is who was raised to be, born to be, if I have to die there knowing that you are safe, then my mission is done” and without another word he left the tent, your tent were his mate was left crying.

But to Azriel's saddened heart in middle of the battle he realized you never gave each other the kiss before battle, it was a non spoken deal between the two, it was their “I’ll be waiting for you to come back, please come back”. But it was too late, and the words exchange between the two in those last moments left a bitter taste on Azriel's tongue.

-End of the flashback-

Y/N POV

•1 week later•

Lost but now I am found

I can see that once I was blind

I was so confused as a little child

Tryna take what I could get

Scared that I couldn't find

All the answers, honey (louder)

My body feels like it’s on fire, I can’t even open my eyes, every nerve, every muscle in my body hurts, is this the after life? I thought that when you died you don’t feel any pain. But oh gods! I feel like I was crushed under a fucking mountain. Cauldron fucking boil me alive! The only thing that I feel apart from the agonizing pain in my body are the scattering caresses of what I think are Az's shadows.

A groan leaves my lips, as I tried my hardest to open my eyes to the blinding light that comes from the window, as if sensing my discomfort almost all of the shadows surround the room in darkness, while the others hurried vanished out of the room to probably alert Azriel and the inner circle. I don’t remember what happened, my last memory was the night before battle that me and mate dance in the rain, followed up to have the most tender and loving sex with Az. I feel so lost, with so many questions.

The sound of hurried footsteps getting closer bring me back from my scattering thoughts, a second later my beautiful mate appears in all his glory, but he looks terrible, not in a bad way, Azriel is the most gorgeous male I’ve ever seen, he couldn’t be ugly even if he tried. But there are circles under his eyes as if he hasn’t sleep in forever, his cheekbones are more prominent and he looks like he lost some pound and muscle. What the hel happened?

He looks frantic throughout the room as if some broke in, but that is until his gaze land on me. He lunges himself at me while breaking down with sobs. I tried to move to comfort him but my body is not cooperating. Not even my voice is functioning. Azriel's sobs break my heart and I think he feels it because he looks and me with tears in his eyes.

“You are alive” he looks at me as if he hasn’t seen me in years “you are okay” he repeats the same thing as mantra, as if trying to convince himself this is real. I tried to speak but no words come out. He sense this and rushes to bring you a glass of water, you gulp it down and the refills it again and again until your throat doesn’t feel like sand anymore.

“Hello my love” my voice comes out scratchy like I haven’t used it in a long time, at the pet name my mate's eyes fill with tears again. “what happened?”

“I promise, I’m going to tell you anything you want to know, baby, but I need to alert Madja you are awake, okay?” He caress my hair, my face touching everything part of me that he can, I’m able to give him a small nod, while his eyes become distant probably telling Rhys to call Madja.

Madja came ask questions while checking my body, always questioning where it hurts, what’s the last I remember, and told me not ask what happened, that my memories will be back in time, and asking would affect the currency of them, after a while she gave strict orders to all my family that I’m to stay in bed for at least a week more, that I need to regain my energy and my weight, and not to exhaust myself, while also giving Azriel some viles that help with the pain.

The week I was in bed all my family make sure I was taken care of, even Amren took care of me, that was weird, I’ve never seen her be so soft with someone, and that includes Varian, Mor and Feyre were as usual always fussing about anything I needed, Cassian and Rhys always made sure I was comfy enough and bringing me gifts and food, Cassian brought me a lot of books, courtesy of Ness, and sometimes Nests came to check up on me. And Azriel well he never left my side and when he did he made sure to leave his shadows with me even if he was to leave one minute.

Elain is another story altogether, since she was made, she took a liking to my mate, I don’t blame her Az is the sweetest most precious soul that I’ve ever known and because of that he indulged her, not intentionally, he just wanted to help her getting used to her new life, which gave her the impression that he was interested, and when she tried to make a move and he rejected her, she almost attacked me, blaming me that I stole Azriel for her. And while her sisters were on my side, they couldn’t let her sister's side either. Since then my relationship with the Acheron middle sister is non existent.

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Sometimes love is not enough

And the road gets tough, I don't know why

Keep making me laugh

Let's go get high

The road is long, we carry on

Try to have fun in the meantime

After I was given the good to go by Madja, Az help me with training, giving me small exercises to regain strength, while always making sure I was okay and drinking enough water. I tried to talk to him about what happened with me, but every time I tried it was fruitless, is like all his walls shot up and he becomes a shell of himself, he has nightmares most nights and when he wakes up he makes sure I’m breathing and then proceeds to hold me tight trough out the night.

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane, so (louder)

Choose your last words, this is the last time

'Cause you and I, we were born to die

As Madja said the memories will be recovered with time, they did and I remember everything, the night before battle, the fight before battle and the moment I saved my mate for being killed to me being stabbed by a faesbane coverd sword. And even though I remember all the traumatic events, one thing is echoing in my head. Azriel last words before battle “…this is who I am, this is who was raised to be, born to be, if I have to die there knowing that you are safe, then my mission is done” it’s like he thinks himself as a weapon, he always did, but I thought we were past that.

“Love, are you okay?” Azriel’s melodic voice breaks through my thoughts, making me snap my eyes to his hazel almost gold eyes. His scarred fingers wipe gently my under eyes, I didn’t know I was crying until that moment.

“Az, do you still see yourself as a weapon?” I look straight into his eyes, but when he adverts his eyes, I got my answer. “You know, we talked about that for years, I thought that you didn’t see yourself that way anymore” I say gently.

“I know, trust me I know, but when the war began and everything happened, my only thought was that I have to keep you safe, and if that means be a weapon, t-then so be it” his voice breaks at the end “when you saved me I couldn’t be more proud to call you my mate, I was so ready to run to you, and hold you, but the moment that that soldiers s-stabbed you, I-I lost it, I didn’t even realized more soldiers were approaching me, but it was like my brain knew and I killed them all just to get to you” A few tears scape his eyes, with shaky fingers I cup his face and wipe them, his eyes look up at mine, and all the pain I see there breaks my heart.

A sob scapes my lips when I tried to talk, taking a deep breath I tried again “We are stronger than this baby, we are going to go through this together as we always do, and if I have to remind you every day for the rest of our lives that you are not a weapon, that you are worthy, and wroth living for, I will, always, but you have to promise me that you will try, and never give up on you, on us” I tell him, resting me forehead against his, while looking deep in his eyes. His chin quivers with, and tears wet his eyelashes. Azriel gives me a nod while chanting “I promise” over and over again.

We were born to die

(We were born to die, we were born to die, we were born to die)

We were born to die

A pain prickles my neck making me hiss and my mate's heveas a hiss of his own while touching his neck, my eyes look at his neck looking at a tattoo, a skull with wings, “The Angel of Death”, that’s what that means, what they used to called in the Court of Nightmares. My power, death in every shape or form. My fingers trace the portrayal of our promise mark on our skins. His eyes adverts to my neck, looking at what I know is my tattoo, it’s a skull with truth-teller he says, while shaky breaths and broken voice.

“Please don’t leave me again” he says after a few moments “I wouldn’t know how to bear with that, the past month and a half, it was hel” his eyes plead with me.

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane

I gave him a reassuring smile, crashing my lips with his, in a silent promise that everything is going to be fine, that we are going to do this together. Whatever long it takes. That I have him as he has me. That our love is unconditional and strong. That we will have again moments like the one we had before battle. And specially that we will be together to whatever life throws at us. And I’m that moment draped in each others arms, everything feels right.

So, don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Sometimes love is not enough

And the road gets tough, I don't know why

Keep making me laugh

Let's go get high

The road is long, we carry on

Try to have fun in the meantime

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane, so (louder)

Choose your last words, this is the last time

'Cause you and I, we were born to die

We were born to die

(We were born to die, we were born to die, we were born to die)

We were born to die

Why? (Got that?)

Who, me? (Louder)

(We were born to die, we were born to die, we were born to die)

Why? (Got that?)

Fin.

A/N: well as I said I’m new to this, I hope you enjoy, I accept constructive criticism and feedback. Thank you and sorry for any grammar errors 🫶🏼

#shadowsinger x reader #azriel angst #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #rhysand #cassian #acotar #acotar series #feyre archeron #morrigan #amren #elain archeron

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tickle-bugs · 3 months

Text

Pre-Flight Checks

@allytheally: hi :) here's a prompt: you reblogged this thing a while ago about the seatbelts on aircraft (one on the shoulder, waist, and individual ones for the thighs) (https://www.tumblr.com/tickle-bugs/715247149506609152/hey-there-i-work-with-fighter-jets-super-hornets?source=share) and I think it'd be great if you wrote something incorporating this idea... like maybe lee!hangman and ler!rooster or lee!mav and ler!iceman and/or ler!slider? honestly any pairing would be cool

“Gooooood mornin’, Rooster.” The heavy impacts of boots on the stepladder send Bradley’s eye twitching. Hangman’s presence has a volume the way bright light slowly wears on the eyes.

“What do you want?”

“Me? I just came over to help with your pre-flight checks.” Hangman grins, cocksure. A sliver of sunshine lights up his eyes over the edge of his aviators.

“I’m clear, but thanks.” Bradley gives a little ‘shoo’ motion with his hands.

“Lemme give it a second opinion.” Hangman hoists himself up to get a better view of the cockpit. He makes a big show of scanning over the switches and buttons and humming in thought.

“Knock yourself out.” Bradley snorts and turns away. Hangman’s indecipherable muttering falls easily away under the buzz of his brain. He double and triple checks everything, noting the feel of each switch and knob under his practiced hands. Finding the rhythm of his plane is half the ritual.

Wiggling fingers fit suddenly into the curve of Bradley’s waist and he barks out a laugh, knees jerking against the straps holding him.

He blinks at Hangman. Hangman grins at him.

“Don’t--” Bradley dives to grab his hands, but the seatbelts, ever-dutiful, wrench him back into place.

“Oh, now that sounds like you’ve got somethin’ loose. No pilot should be making that noise.” Hangman tuts, but he doesn’t stop, just lets his stupid hands do their stupid crawl across his stupidly sensitive stomach. Bradley lets out a giggly shriek and tries to fold in half.

“Oh, Mav wasn’t kidding. This is my lucky day.”

“Youuuu--” Whatever half-baked insult Bradley was aiming for is smothered by his own laughter.

“Meeeee. Say, are you ticklish anywhere else? Gotta catalogue this for future use. Scream once for yes or twice for no.” Hangman tazes his sides and Bradley’s voice cracks around his laughter.

He’s going to die in this plane. He better die in this plane, otherwise he’s going to gut Hangman like a fish.

…No, he won’t.

Bradley manages to plant his hand square on Hangman’s face and start pushing, and the ultimatum between continuing the torment or falling onto concrete makes Hangman finally, blessedly let go.

“Seems like everything’s in order. Pleasant skies, Rooster.” Hangman pats his shoulder and hops down out of sight.

In his mind’s eye, he’s shaking Hangman by the shoulders until his brain falls out of his ears. In practice, he’s turning his burning face and shy half-smile back towards the controls with hopes of killing both.

…

“Mornin’, Bradshaw.” Hangman pops up like a gopher. Bradley jumps and nearly flips his lounge chair.

“Seresin.” He exhales tightly through his nose. He stays very still—maybe he can still salvage the last throes of the sun-warmed nap he was finding his way towards.

“You seem tense.” Hangman cocks his head in something that passes for concern. The rushing ocean suddenly sounds more like an omen.

“There’s no one else around for you to bother right now?” Bradley leans up on his elbows to search for the other Daggers. He can hear Fanboy laughing somewhere, he thinks, but Hangman’s giant head blotting out the sun is the only thing he can see.

“Nope!” Hangman makes a big show of cracking his knuckles and stretching his fingers. Bradley’s eyes widen.

“Don’t you dare.”

“You’ll have to be more specific. Don’t what?” The expression that Hangman generates overshoots innocence by a country mile.

“Tickle me, you asshole.” Bradley winds an arm around his torso and scrambles up in his lounge chair. The fluttery kick of anticipation slaps a smile straight across his face.

“I can’t believe you fell for that.”

“Fell for--”

Bradley pauses as it dawns on him. Watching it dawn on Hangman is worse--his entire face brightens with mischief.

Bradley starts stammering through a protest and giggling through another, but Hangman’s kneeling over him before any of it becomes coherent. He flails hard enough to send them both tumbling into the sand. Never in his life has he been more grateful to be alone, if only to keep the pitch of his laughter between him and the menace causing it.

He makes a note to keep his shirt on at the beach.

…

Maybe a week or so of this puts Bradley in a…strange headspace. Distracted.

Touch is nice, but there’s more of it lately, enough to make him notice and crave its absence in a way he hadn’t before. When Phoenix leans into his side or Fanboy claps his shoulder, he misses the warmth of their touch after. Even Hangman’s utter nonsense sets a gentle buzz into his chest. It’s dizzying.

He’s so lost in the ache of it that Mav catches on, and it kicks solidly into that tangle of ‘complicated shit’ between them that he keeps putting away for increasingly rainer days. He’d gotten so used to Mav tiptoeing around him as if he were fragile that the first gentle touch on the shoulder almost shatters him.

The Daggers meet for a barbecue at Mav’s and Bradley shows up early with a bottle of Ice’s favorite Pinot. Things may be complicated, but the mushy smiles on Ice and Mav’s faces are not. It’s nice, putting ‘complicated’ in motion towards being something else. Something lighter.

Later into the night, Bradley’s got his feet kicked up on the couch in the hangar and the radio crooning slowly in his ear.

He watches Mav and Ice dance--more of a sway, really, as they banter. Mav’s got a playful tilt to his smile, one that suggests he’s being as much a menace as he’s visibly in love. Bradley smiles and hums along, halfheartedly wondering what Mav might be pestering Ice with.

“This seat taken?” Not waiting for an answer, Hangman picks up his ankles and takes their spot. Bradley brings his heels down hard on his thigh. He gets a swat on the ankle for his trouble. Still, the weight of Hangman’s arm on his legs is comforting. Solid.

A room full of people to bother, yet Hangman finds him. Hm.

“Why’re you so obsessed with me lately?” Bradley nudges him with his ankle. Hangman’s eyebrows raise.

Well. He’d meant to say that with a bit more tact but it’s out there now, between them.

Hangman snorts softly and passes Bradley a beer. He pops the caps on both and pockets them. Probably donations for Coyote’s collection.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Bradshaw.” Hangman gives him an utterly complex and unreadable look before taking a swig of his beer. ‘Complex’ and ‘unreadable’ are not words that belong anywhere near him.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Bradley frowns.

“It’s a stupid question.”

“Seresin.” Bradley leans forward to smack his shoulder.

“Alright, fine.” Hangman exhales tightly. “You’ve been moping around like a dark fuckin’ cloud these past few weeks and we couldn’t figure out how to get you out of it. We ran out of ideas and eventually Mav realized he couldn’t hide from us anymore, so he coughed up a solution. Something he said we could try, and I quote, ‘at risk of your lives’. Never thought he’d suggest tickling, but--”

“You went to Mav?”

“Yeah, and Mav—“ Hangman imitates the way Bradley’s voice cracks— “told Phoenix to try it if all else failed, she told Bob, Bob told me, and now we’re here. And it worked.”

Bradley’s brain stalls out. He sits up, bracing his elbows on his knees. He drops his face into his hands.

“Oh my god. So everyone knows?” He peeks through his fingers. Hangman shrugs.

“Well, I don’t think Fanboy was paying much attention.” He scratches idly at his jaw.

“Mav said if all else failed. I didn’t—you guys didn’t try anything else.” Bradley fiddles with the label on the bottle.

Hangman raises his eyebrow in the precise shape of ‘oh really?’.

“Remember when Bob tried to buy you soup? Or when Payback made a fool of himself trying to sing Great Balls of Fire? Or when Fanboy tried to introduce you to Star Trek? Or—“

Oh.

For maybe the only time in his life, Hangman snaps his jaw shut. Bradley furrows his brow.

“Look…point is, you keep making that exact face you’ve got right now, and concerned parties asked me to investigate.” Hangman swirls his finger around Bradley’s face. He swats it away on habit, but fondness bubbles in the base of his throat.

“Concerned parties?” A smile sneaks under his mustache.

“Yeah, Phoenix and the rest of them were worried. Not me though.” Hangman takes a long, incriminating swig from his bottle.

“Not you?” Bradley tilts his head teasingly.

“Nope. I’m a neutral party. Like Sweden.”

“It’s Switzerland, dumbass.” Bradley knocks shoulders with him. Something about Hangman’s smile tells him he already knew that.

“Sure. Whatever.” Hangman throws his arm across the back of the couch. His fingers brush Bradley’s arm. The fondness settles into a resonant hum deep in Bradley’s chest.

“You’ve got your shit with Mav and your past. I get it. But some of us would like to see you smile more than twice a week.” Hangman gestures with his bottle. His movements are loose in the practiced Seresin way, but the care on his face is stunningly plain.

“Some of us?” Bradley grins. Hangman narrows his eyes.

“Concerned parties.” His cheeks grow rosy even as he scowls.

“You are obsessed with me and I’m telling Phoenix.” Bradley pats his shoulder and makes a break for it. A fist grabs a handful of his collar.

“Like hell you are!”

The (thankfully empty) bottles clatter to the floor as Hangman wrestles an already-laughing Bradley back down to the couch. He tries not to think too hard about hearing Mav cheer in the background.

…

Bradley does not start fights. He does not. He finishes them.

He slips past Phoenix and Bob, nodding in passing, and ducks up to Hangman’s Super Hornet. He can feel their eyes on him--especially Bob, he’s got a killer stare for someone so quiet--but he ignores it.

It’s not a fight, not really, but if he thinks about what he’s doing too hard he’s going to lock himself in a supply closet somewhere.

Bradley hops up the steps alongside the cockpit.

“Rooster! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing your ugly mug?” Hangman grins and bats his eyelashes.

“I heard you were challenging Mav. Wanted to get a good look at you before you spend the rest of the evening with your face to the tarmac.” Rooster holds up his fingers like a picture frame.

“Try not to miss me too much.” Hangman winks, insufferable as always.

“Miss you? Every second you’re not buzzing around down here is a second of peace.” Bradley reaches up and knocks on his helmet.

“Would you kindly get the fuck off my plane?” Hangman swats lazily at him. Bradley bats his hands away.

“Before you go, just thought I’d see how your pre-flight checks are going?”

Hangman goes rigid. Bradley grins evilly at him.

“Bradshaw, don’t you fuckin’—“

Bradley fumbles with Hangman’s hands and flight equipment until he can jam his fingers right into the soft parts of his side. Hangman yelps and nearly jumps out of his skin. The seatbelts ensure there’s nowhere for him to go, and the clacking of the buckles only spurs Bradley on.

“I thought you’d put up more of a fight than this, Hangman.” Bradley tuts and shakes his head, worming his fingers up under straps to get at his ribs. Hangman well and truly shrieks.

“I am g-going to kill you!” Hangman shakes with the force of his laughter, folded awkwardly into his seatbelts. He shoves uselessly at Bradley’s chest.

“And I’m never gonna let this go. Think I could get you to do that again, or are you a one hit wonder?” Bradley squeezes quickly at Hangman’s thigh. His hands slap down hard on top of Bradley’s and he starts cackling his way to incoherency.

Bradley raises his eyebrow and times the squeezes to every escape attempt. It’s incredibly entertaining to listen to Hangman reinvent the squeal. He wonders if the other Daggers know about this yet.

The sound of a throat clearing nearly sends Bradley toppling backwards off the plane. Strong hands heave him upright and he turns--Maverick’s eyes crinkle around the edges of his sunglasses.

“Appreciate you getting a head start on destroying him, Rooster, but I believe that’s my job.” Mav pats him on the shoulder. Bradley goes to duck away, but Hangman makes a swipe for his sides, and he can’t let that stand. He leans back into the cockpit and tickles Hangman’s ribs until he’s screeching between hiccups and an interesting shade of red.

“Aren’t you ssssupposed to help me?” Hangman crumples in around Bradley’s hands, wriggling like a worm on a hook.

“Help you? No. Teach you? Sure. Wheels up in two minutes. Hopefully you’ll learn a thing or two about getting your ass handed to you.” Mav pulls Bradley back by the shoulder. He lets it happen. Hangman thunks his head back against his seat, chest heaving.

“Bold words, Pops. We’ll see who comes out on top.” He clicks his tongue and winks. Insufferable bastard.

“See you in the skies, Hangman.” Mav pokes Hangman’s stomach.

…

The lounge at Top Gun hums with quiet chatter through the evening as the Daggers share drinks. Bradley’s tucked against the wall with Phoenix and Bob under his arms. He’s half watching Fanboy and Payback fumble through a game of pool, half listening to a story Phoenix is telling, and fully content to lose himself in the sound of her voice.

The door slams open, welcoming a sweaty and disgruntled Hangman to the room. Scattered laughter and teasing applause kicks up among the other Daggers. He gives the entire room the finger.

“Yeah, laugh it up. I was off my game.” He pushes his hair out of his eyes. Coyote offers him a pity beer. He takes it.

“I wonder why.” Bradley chuckles. Phoenix swats his chest. Hangman locks eyes with him, absolutely feral. Bradley goes to make a run for it, but Phoenix hooks her arms under his. He could break her grip if he really tried, but…

When Hangman barrels towards him and tackles him over the back of the couch, Bradley can’t say he doesn’t deserve it.

#ok this was supposed to be mostly lee!hangman but i started thinking about bradley and blacked out #hope you still like it tho!! hangman still gets got as he should #idc if you tag this as ship btw #background icemav bc they are married #special thanks to chock who reminded me that writing is fun and i like to do it <3 #my fics #top gun maverick #ticklish!rooster #ticklish!hangman #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #jake 'hangman' seresin #not tagging the other daggers they're barely here <3 #idk how I feel about this fic still but it was fun to write

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owlespresso · 7 months

Text

Wrangle. Jing Yuan.

Tags: yandere themes, dark content, abuse of power, mother hen Jing Yuan, forced caretaking

You hate Jing Yuan.

He is at the helm of the Xianxhou, their beloved general. What he does with you should be considered treasonous, looked down on by his peers. Reviled by his subjects. He should leave you in the depths of the Shackling Prison to rot like the petty criminal you are.

But he does not. He pries you from your cell (pries you away the ironclad grip you have on your cot, finger-by-finger), heaves your scraggly body into his arms like you weigh nothing. You struggle, but it’s pathetic. A few days of continuous hunger has robbed you of your strength. It makes it all too easy for him to carry you down long corridors and up flights of stairs, branching and seemingly endless.

The first rays of sun you have seen since your capture make you cringe. You turn your face into his shoulder, breathe the scent of freshly washed linen and armor polish. He chuckles, the sound deep and warm.

Jing Yuan brings you home, to a sprawling estate behind carved walls of stone. The sound of the gates shutting sends you into another fit, beginning to wriggle in his arms. He’s brought you here to be his pet, his slave, his toy—he’s going to do horrible things to you here, away from the prying eyes of the populace where no one will hear you. No one will help you.

“Please—I have no intent to harm you—” Jing Yuan attempts to bargain. He thrusts you away from his (strong, big) body, hands hooked under your arms. You shout and continue to wriggle.

“Stop, stop, please stop—just let me go—” someone is speaking, and you don’t even realize it’s you until your throat throbs, dry with disuse. Is that what you sound like? After only a few days? The wind goes out of you and you slump, allowing him to draw you back into his grasp. He holds you close to his chest, one arm under your thighs and the other behind your back.

“It’s going to be alright,” he soothes, cooing indulgently. “I know the Shackling Prison gave you a poor first impression, and for that I apologize. I’ve given you no reason to trust my word alone… but no further harm will come to you while you are under my roof.”

You feel the rumble of his voice more than you hear it. You peek up at the estate proper from where you’ve buried your face into his shoulder. It’s bigger than anywhere you have ever lived. The kind of luxurious you have only seen on screens and rarely in magazines. Some civilizations have disregarded the printed word entirely. Distantly, you remember the smell of the newspaper, new ink on thin paper.

And then you fall asleep. Just like that. Tucked up against him.

When you wake, your skin is clean and your raggedy prison garb has been replaced by soft robes.

Jing Yuan reserves a level of generosity for you that you are not worth—greets you with painkillers and relief at seeing you awake in hand.

“It would be both a blatant waste and a moral crime to let you waste away in the Shackling Prison.” he tells you, and explains little else. If he had not intervened, you would have remained in prison until you rotted and died. The officials who run that steel fortress of pain and torment are far beneath his station. None care that the vaunted Jing Yuan has plucked one of their least wanted, least dangerous criminals from the nest. You are his ward, now, a protected person who is recuperating under his generous care.

Whether you want it or not. You don’t need his charity, you insist. You would rather die than depend on someone else’s handouts.

“Hm,” he said, not cold or enraged but disappointed. “Is that so? How unfortunate. I wonder what kind of life you have led to make you draw such a despondent conclusion. You don’t have to tell me—” he says hurriedly, as soon as he sees you open your mouth to reply.

I wasn’t going to, you think, pissed off. It’s probably for the better that he cut you off. You probably would have said something you regretted.

“Worry not. You will have plenty of time to adjust. And learn. For now, just focus on your recovery.”

There has to be something to it, you think. Something he wants. Some sort of trick he’s going to pull. Some deranged, awful thing he’s going to do that you will be powerless to stop.

The room he settles you in is too large and the bed is too comfortable. You sink into the cushiony mattress and stare at the yawning void of the chamber, convinced that he will come through those doors at any given moment to take what he’s wanted all along. You eat one meal a day at most, sleep for no more than four hours. Dreams and visions haunt you deep into the night—and in the dark is the only time you truly feel safe, sheltered and mothered by shadows.

It’s at night that Jing Yuan at last finds you. You scuttle from corner to corner to avoid his detection and fail miserably. He scoops you up easy, in an unsettling echo of when he first crossed your path. You bat at him and caterwaul and put up a fuss until you can’t any longer, energy sapped from your unfed form as he hauls you to another room—

There is no punishment. He pets at your hair and coos and runs his hand over your back as you sniffle and sob, wet his sleepshirt with your frustrated tears. Later, then, he feeds you by hand, and doesn’t let you leave his lap until you’ve cleaned your plate. It’s awful. It’s humiliating. He watches you take every bite and praises you ceaselessly whenever you swallow. You slump into his chest, more exhausted by the meal then anything that occurred prior.

You hate him. You hate him. You hate him.

He spends every meal with you. He explains the basic mechanics of qi, smiles indulgently when you bother to thoughtlessly slide a random piece forward. He gives you tips, fingers brushing over the back of your hand as he positions your pieces in example. You hardly pay any attention to the formation he’s showing you, knowing you’ll forget it within the hour. To his credit, he doesn’t object when you push yourself to your feet, declaring that this game of wits has tired you out for the evening. You return to your room and ball your hands into fists, punch your pillows because hitting the wall will inevitably attract his attention.

You hate him because he is so kind. You hate his clean hands and his warm arms and the low, coaxing timbre he uses whenever he talks to you, like you’re some scared, cornered animal.

You hate yourself more for how tempted you are to give in.

#jing yuan #jing yuan/reader #hsr/reader #honkai star rail/reader #yandere jing yuan #hungering for hsr #oz write

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animentality · 5 months

Note

Re Gortash’s parents: you ever think about the fact that in all the years since he’s been free of the hells- a couple of decades, likely- he hasn’t killed them? He hasn’t used his connections to ruin their business? Didn’t ask or let slip to Durge that no one would miss them, certainly not any children these poor cobblers might have had? I find it so interesting. For all we know, he’s had contact with them in the interim, maybe hoping against hope that they’d finally see him as worthy of love. And when they never did… well. That’s what the tadpoles were for.

I actually think that he didn't visit them until he had the tadpoles and the absolute plan.

They act as though he just showed up one day, after years of simply being gone, and tadpoled them, and that makes a lot of sense, actually.

Because consider this:

As a kid, your parents are your entire world. They shape literally everything about you, whether you become exactly like them or act out deliberately to be their total opposite.

They shape your world view and how you see men and women and relationships. They teach you how to react to pain, they teach you what pain is, and how to fix it, they teach you patience, they teach you understanding.

Or not.

So my theory is that Gortash never bothered his parents until he got the tadpoles for two reasons.

1) the pain he must've felt after being sold, and after years of being tortured by Raphael, was too great for him to bear revisiting. We know from how he talks to Karlach that he minimizes and condescends and pretends that being enslaved doesn't hurt, isn't a betrayal, isn't an awful thing.

Why do you call it awful? I was enslaved once. I didn't care.

His parents taught him early on, and it was reinforced by a devil who literally bargains with souls, that people are just bargaining chips.

They're tools, to be used and traded and discarded when they're no longer useful.

So why would he go back to his parents, even if it was to ruin their lives?

Because that would be admitting that they hurt him. That would be admitting he needed closure.

A strong man doesn't need to visit his parents and ask why they didn't want him.

And 2)

He is a fucking liar. We know he's a liar.

If he truly didn't care, he wouldn't have tadpoled his parents. He wouldn't be tormenting his mother, by forcing her to pretend that she'd never sell her son to a devil. He wouldn't have erased his father completely.

There is no reason at all to tadpole a couple of fucking cobblers.

But he's holding onto it, and like any megalomaniacal man child with parental issues, he's pushing it down and pretending he doesn't care, when it still hurts.

And that's why I don't think he visited them until he had tadpoles to use on them.

Part of him wouldn't want to re-live his past. Part of him would be terrified of being helpless again.

Of feeling powerless.

Abusive and neglectful parents often fill their children with terror.

Even as adults, abused children still remember that fear. It's settled deep within their guts, and they feel a flicker of it every time a partner raises their voice or a friend screams at them.

Gortash didn't visit his parents because he needed to feel powerful first.

He needed to know he could go back, and not become Enver, that sniveling little boy who used to cry every night in the hells for his mom and dad, who were the only reason he was ever there in the first place.

He needed to be Lord Gortash.

Chosen of Bane.

And...he needed the tadpoles.

He needed to make his parents helpless.

So that he wouldn't feel that way, ever again.

So they say empty platitudes. Truthfully, I don't know if he cares about impressing them anymore.

To me, it's more about...eliminating all traces of Enver Flymm from the world.

Letting that little boy die in the hells...

So in short, anon...no, I don't think he visited them ever.

Not until he had the means to keep them totally helpless.

I also doubt the dark urge ever knew about them, until they tadpoled them, maybe.

Because why would Enver want the dark urge to ever know that there was a time when he was not the Chosen of Bane, the mighty tyrant, the equal of the Child of Murder?

Enver wouldn't just be embarrassed. He'd despise the Dark Urge seeing him that way.

He refuses to look weak or tolerate weakness.

That includes his own.

#enver gortash #baldurs gate 3 #bg3

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nhasablogg · 11 months

Text

Soft

Fandom: Stranger Things

Characters: Steve/Eddie

Summary: Steve realizes he’s gotten softer after he’s stopped playing sports. It’s not necessarily a problem until he starts overthinking it.

Warnings: Mentions of body issues.

Words: 1.2k

Once Steve finished high school and stopped playing sports, his body became softer. It didn’t bother him, really. In fact he barely noticed it, his days of admiring himself in the mirror overshadowed by monsters and the video store. And the difference wasn’t glaringly obvious to anyone, even to him, unless he paid attention.

He only started paying attention once he started sleeping with Eddie, and it was only because Eddie was obsessed with touching his belly.

“You’re so ticklish,” he would tease when the skin jumped beneath his hand, and Steve would whine because he was ticklish, dammit, and Eddie wasn’t making it easier for him to not be a giggly, squirmy mess every other night.

It was one of those nights, when Eddie was just beginning his daily torment of Steve’s sensitive spots, that Steve noticed how his stomach jiggled under his touch. “Wait,” he said, and Eddie must’ve heard a difference in his tone because he withdrew his hand immediately.

Steve poked his own midriff, the flesh softer than he’d ever really seen it before. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing, I just-” He knew it was no big deal, really. Knew he was mostly just losing muscles, knew there was nothing wrong with being chubby or fat anyway. But Steve wasn’t good with change, and Steve had never really thought of his body as anything other than something women (and apparently men) wanted. And in line of the standards he’d grown up with, women (and men? he was less sure) wanted muscles and fitness and confidence (at least that was what he’d been told), and Steve wondered if he could keep his confidence if he couldn’t keep his muscles.

He pulled his shirt down and Eddie didn’t pry, didn’t try to touch his belly again, but did open his arms to let Steve crawl into them.

As he buried his face in Eddie’s neck, one of his ticklish spots, he wondered why it mattered what other people thought when Eddie had only really seen and therefore loved this version of him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into his skin, and Eddie, who had huffed out a laugh only seconds before as Steve was still adjusting against his throat, probably knew he wasn’t apologizing for the accidental tickle.

“Talk to me when you’re ready,” he said, fingertips ghosting over Steve’s spine, making him shiver. He wondered if his sides were getting softer too. If his thighs and arms had lost any definition.

“I’m having a stupid crisis over losing muscle.”

Eddie was silent for a moment before saying, “Losing muscle?”

“Or gaining weight, but I think losing muscle sounds more logical to have a crisis over.”

“Oh.” Eddie dragged out the word and his throat vibrated against Steve’s face. “I see. Okay.”

Steve whined as Eddie forced them to sit up again. “We don’t have to do this now.”

“Oh, yes, we do before you make this into a bigger thing without meaning to. Okay. Talk to me. You think you’ve gained weight?”

“Well, I’m softer-” He gestured to his body. “-everywhere. Which is fine, I get it, I don’t really do anything but shelve movies nowadays and occasionally run from monsters. It’s fine.”

“You don’t sound like you’re fine.” Eddie had said it so softly, head tilted, eyes looking at him as if it pained him to hear this.

Steve swallowed, suddenly on the verge of fucking tears. “I-” His voice broke off. God, this was embarrassing. “I’m fine not being Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, you know. I’m fine being seen as a loser who hangs out with kids and people who this town will consider misfits. Someone who will live and die in this town, having lost my status. I’m fine with it.”

“Steve.”

“But I think my body was the only thing I had left from when I was considered a god, that’s all. It’s stupid. It’s selfish. I don’t even want to go back to those days because I’m actually happy now, with you.” He looked away when he said the last part. Even though Eddie knew exactly how he felt about him Steve still found it difficult to be vulnerable like that. Which was also stupid.

“It’s not stupid,” Eddie said, reaching out to tap at his knee. “Lots has changed for you the past year. It’s always the smallest thing that makes you spiral, right?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“And change is scary, I get that.”

“Are you calling me a coward?”

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

Steve huffed. “I feel stupid.”

“Stop saying that.” Eddie went to poke at his belly before he caught himself, and Steve was faced with the uncomfortable revelation that he actually wanted the tickle.

One discovery at a time, please, universe.

“Sorry,” Eddie said, withdrawing his hand.

“It’s okay.” Steve could just say nothing about it. He was certain Eddie wouldn’t stop doing it after this anyway. “It’s okay,” he said again, looking down.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie said, hand on his knee again. “I love that you’re soft.”

Steve hummed, unable to keep his blush at bay. “Stop.”

“What, you don’t want to hear how much I love your body?” Eddie scooted closer, lacing his arms around him. “How much I adore how well your sides curve in my hands? The sounds you make when I kiss down your chest and trail my fingers over your ribs. How ridiculously ticklish you are and how you never really try to get away.”

Ah. Steve was the last to make the discovery as usual then.

Eddie pulled him closer, lips against his cheek. “Do you want me to continue? Or-” He pulled back to smirk at him. “-do you want me to demonstrate?”

“You’re so mean for asking.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Demonstrate it is, then. See this?” Eddie curled his fingers over Steve’s tummy. “I love how soft it is. It feels so nice to tickle you here. To kiss you. I don’t know what it is, but you have some sort of limit. Once I pass it you don’t seem as ticklish, and I can kiss you as much as I want.”

Steve, in the midst of the burning blush on his face, realized he knew exactly what limit Eddie was talking about. What Eddie didn’t know was that it usually did tickle still, but Steve was too consumed with desire to care. Maybe he even liked that it still tickled a little. Maybe that was part of it.

“Stop,” Steve said, pushing his hand away.

“Why?”

“Tickles.”

“Mm, but you don’t mind that, do you?”

Jesus. Did this man notice everything?

Eddie ran a finger down the side of his stomach. “It’s a good thing,” he said. “Because I don’t know what I would do if I wasn’t allowed to touch you there.”

“You got some kind of fetish or somethin’?”

Eddie burst into laughter. “Way to ruin a moment, Steve.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I get, uh-”

“Embarrassed? Yeah, I can tell.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Eddie poked him, just below that spot on his ribs that made him scream if it was tickled for long enough. “But just to finish off, I like every part of you, soft or firm, ticklish or not. Though most of you is ticklish, so I guess I don’t know about the latter.”

“You’re this close to getting banned from touching my stomach for the next week.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Yes, I would.”

“Liar.” Eddie grinned at him and Steve huffed, turning away because, no, he wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t.

#tickling #steddie #steddie fic #ticklish!steve harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things #n writes #soft

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yourdeepestfathoms · 7 months

Text

My Hopes For The P2 Changeling Route

Or, just some things I think would be neat to see when the time eventually comes for her route!

1. More of Clara being an emotional mess.

One thing I was REALLY surprised to see in the P1 Changeling route is just how emotionally tormented Clara is. She constantly expresses anxiety, stress, and even what seems to be depression. I mean, she literally has a line where she says she has been crying for several days. She is EXTREMELY distressed and tormented, something that I don’t really see people discuss very often. This emotional state is especially jarring because of how she acts in the Bachelor and Haruspex route, where she’s seen being snarky, cryptic, and kinda bratty. And then to play her route and see just how broken she actually is is very shocking.

P2 Clara is very different from P1 Clara. She’s less childish and more “mature,” though that maturity, at least to me, is very fragile, and you can tell this is a young girl pretending to be and acting like an adult because she has to. She’s way more bossy, way more snarky, and sometimes even comes across as rude (though—and this may just be because I’m a Clara defender until the day I die—I don’t believe she’s trying to be cruel or mean, I just think she has a really bad filter and says things that aren’t appropriate. not that any of those traits are even bad traits that make her a bad character. she is a teenage girl, or at least has the mind and body of one; that’s a very normal way for her to act, and i think it’s strange how some people shit on her because of that, despite her being a very accurate portrayal of a teenage girl—you know, minus the cryptic parts of her. but i digress!). I mean, she literally sasses off Artemy on several occasions, and Artemy is probably double her size, triple her weight, quadruple her strength, and has the power to kick her across the Steppe like a football—that’s the most teenage rebellion thing ever! And I’m sure in the Bachelor route, we’ll see even more of her being fiery and snarky because Daniil and Clara have, like, DOUBLE the beef compared to Artemy and Clara!

To have ALL OF THAT—all of that upturned nose sarcasm, that haughty “I’m smarter than you professionally trained doctors with medical degrees and a proper education” attitude, that bull-headed sassiness that makes you want to tell her to put her proverbial phone on the counter and go to her room—and then to get into the Changeling route and see that she’s actually very, very emotionally damaged and mentally ill would be a stark duality to how we’ve seen her in the past two routes. I think it would be especially surprising to those who never played P1 or at least never got to her route and never witnessed that side of her. The mask (haha) would slip off, and suddenly all of her vulnerability is raw and exposed and throbbing before our very eyes.

Because, at the end of the day, Clara is a child. She is a very young girl with obvious mental health issues and a mountain load of responsibilities chained upon her back, a young girl who is bullied and verbally abused and threatened by basically every single adult she comes in contact with (not you, Lara, you’re the real one), a young girl who has been forced to act like the adult she is not because all the grown ups in her life are too incompetent to do things themselves and would rather put it all on a child like she’s their personal work dog (i understand why this is from a gameplay standpoint, she’s the player character ofc she’s going to go off and do the quests, but Jesus fucking Christ, Maria, why are you repeatedly sending a tiny middle schooler to stop the gay men from killing each other?!), a young girl with one of the most, if not the most tragic and downright cruel existences I have ever seen in a character in all of my years of engaging in fiction.

Ahem.

I just have a lot of feelings about this character, okay?

But with the way Pathologic 2 presents it’s storytelling and with the new gameplay mechanics and how it REALLY digs into where it hurts, if IPL DOES use and revamp this aspect of Clara, I think it would make the Changeling route absolutely incredible story-wise and character-wise. An exquisite emotional rollercoaster that never seems to stop going downhill. It would be the best way to strike players where it aches the most.

OR TLDR: I want Clara’s emotional problems to be brought back and expanded upon in P2 so people can see she’s not just a sassy little gremlin child (because I have a lot of feelings about her character often being reduced to just that by the fandom.)

2. An expansion on Clara being the Sand Pest.

Out of everything on this list, I think this is the most likely to come into fruition because it’s a BIG THING with her. But I still wanted to discuss it anyway because I have Many Thoughts.

So, Clara is the Plague. We know this. But in P1, I feel like it wasn’t addressed as much as it really should have. I mean, this is a GIANT revelation—that this girl is the living embodiment of this horrible disease and thousands of deaths are, technically speaking, her fault—and it’s just kinda…swept under the rug. Clara has a moment where she’s like “WHAT” and then it isn’t brought up that much after that.

(And, for the record, I understand why this is. Everyone knows by now that the Changeling route was rushed. This isn’t me ragging on IPL, especially when the Changeling route is still INCREDIBLY well-done, to the point where I personally believe the statement that it’s rushed has been greatly exaggerated by players.)

In P2, I hope that Clara being the Sand Pest is a much bigger aspect of her character because it really is a Huge Thing that needs to be expanded upon. I want to see her have a full-blown mental collapse over this because you can’t tell me that that’s not the appropriate reaction to finding out you’re a living Plague.

3. Interactions with the Sand Pest

I’m referencing that one particular Executor that shows up in P2 to taunt Artemy about killing his kids. During my run, I referred to it as “Sandy,” so for this portion, the bird is Sandy for simplicity.

So, I want Clara to interact with Sandy!

It was terrifying enough for Artemy to face off against this thing, but imagine being Clara, staring into the glowing eyes of what is essentially herself. And she’s forced to grapple with this thing, fight against the consequences of an existence she never asked for, and be constantly reminded that with every breath she takes, she’s stealing the breath from someone else.

4. More interactions between the three Mistresses

The Clara-Maria-Capella trio is really underrated in my opinion, and I hope we get to see more of those three interacting. Because we have Capella and Maria, who clearly already have this established relationship and actually like or at least respect each other, and then suddenly Clara is there, throwing off their, for lack of better words, vibe. (I just know Capella and Maria gossip about Clara when she isn’t in the Nutshell).

5. More interactions with the Albino

The relationship between Clara and the Albino is so adorable and wholesome, and Clara deserves this inkling of kinship and love that he gives her. It’s such an underrated dynamic and interaction that happens in P1, and I REALLY want to see it happen again in P2.

I hope Clara gets to meet all those Albinos that Artemy saw in the Abattoir. I think it would be cute if she just had this flock of brothers.

6. An expansion on how Clara’s powers can just backfire and kill people on accident instead of healing them

I think there were two people Clara accidentally kills in P1- Lika and that mugger outside of Barley’s lair. It’s not mentioned at all with the mugger, and then with Lika, Clara freaks out briefly and then is like “anyway…”

This “power”—the ability to kill people with a single touch—REALLY needs to be expanded upon. Because it is a GOLDMINE for trauma and guilt. It’s also just something that needs to be explored way more because it’s a really interesting concept that P1 never gave much details about.

7. A deeper look into Clara’s existence as a child of Earth

I just really love that she is a dirt child and think it’s super cool part of her character, and I want her to have a deeper connection to those roots (pun intended). The lore in the game and the Steppe culture is so interesting, and it could be explored way more through the eyes of Clara, who is new to it, whereas Artemy knew most of it and Daniil just doesn’t fucking care to learn.

8. No more “stop the gay men from killing each other” quests

As funny as the concept of this small child stopping two sexually tensive men from beating the shit out of each other is, it got REALLY OLD after the second time. At the very least, the dialogue that you get when you speak to Artemy and Daniil each time should be different every day. If they hadn’t said the same thing Every Single Time, I think I wouldn’t have minded the repetitive quests as much.

9. Bring back the Barbie Blaster

Clara is clearly bigger and a little older than she was in P1, but I hope her hands are still too tiny to hold normal guns because I honestly really liked that little mechanic. It made her different than the other two. Also the baby gun you get is literally the best gun ever, idk what hbomberguy was talking about, that thing NEVER missed for me.

10. This funky healing mechanic I thought about

So, I started wondering about something- how is healing going to work in both the Changeling and Bachelor route? After all, they can’t exactly use tinctures anymore. But given how stupidly hard the game is, I wouldn’t be surprised if it expects you to get actual medicine yourself and make yourself go broke.

I then thought about this funky mechanic! I just wanted to put it here instead of making an entirely different post.

So, instead of using tinctures, Clara uses her hands. There are the three layers, like in the Haruspex route, and depending on which layer is afflicted, Clara suffers some kind of penalty while healing the patient, whether it be hunger, exhaustion, or thirst. This makes it to where she can’t just heal people without any sort of price to pay AND it makes her healing way more important because it really was just referenced in the first game. There were less than a handful of times where she ACTUALLY healed someone (not counting the Plague victims, as that is entirely optional). So with this she ACTUALLY heals people and has a very obvious power.

(Side note: maybe the less health Clara has, the less likely she is to heal people and instead accidentally kill them. Or if she’s infected, then she kills her patient or even infects them—or raises their infection level altogether if they’re already infected.)

11. An expansion on how Clara’s healing powers literally hurt her

Empathic healing, where a person has the power to heal but they heal by essentially absorbing the ailment of a person into their own body, is SUCH a good concept, and I don’t know if this was what IPL was actually going for, but I really want Clara getting hurt when she heals to be a bigger thing in her route. Because she DOES take damage when she heals Plague victims, and MAYBE that’s just a balance thing in the game, but even still! A lot of good game mechanics can come into play if healing harms her!

12. More Lara and Yulia interactions

I don’t have much to say about this, I just really like those two and want them to talk to Clara way more

13. A cool opening animation of her birth from the Earth

Artemy got the train sequence, Daniil is probably gonna get him slogging through the Steppe because it seems like brother really fucking walked all the way to the Town, so it would make a lot of sense for Clara’s opening to be her clawing her way out of the Earth and waking up in the graveyard! I know IPL could make a really cool sequence with that, so I have high hopes.

#i know it’ll probably be another couple of years until her route is finally released #but i just wanted to voice my thoughts #ugh WHY does the bachelor have to go next #I know why obviously #but i just want clara content 😭#also please ignore how many times i say things are interesting and cool #pathologic #pathologic 2 #pathologic hd #pathologic classic hd #clara saburova #clara the changeling #clara pathologic #daniil dankovsky #daniil pathologic #the bachelor #the bachelor pathologic #artemy burakh #artemy pathologic

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shadowbriar · 2 years

Text

Remus Lupin - Wrangler

Pairing : (F/M) || Remus Lupin x Reader Word Count : 2.2k Warning : Mentions of scar and wound. Misunderstanding. Notes : Her absence has created nothing but more insecurities for the poor boy. He knew he was at fault and he would never forgive himself for it, but was that it? Could his condition finally become the scissors to have cut their strings of love?

Remus stares at the now cold food served in front of him. The empty chair placed on his side was screaming in silence. The ticking sound of the grandfather clock by the sitting room turns louder with each passing second. Another night poured down the drain, he thought.

There hasn’t been a day where he doesn’t blame himself for what happened that night. Perhaps he didn’t chew enough wolfsbane, or maybe he didn’t fully drink the potion down to its last drop. Whichever reason it was, the cost he had to pay was beyond his imagination. It had cost him everything.

It had cost him her.

Ever since that full moon months ago, she’s always left their house before the sun even woke up and returned only when the clock almost struck midnight. He hardly ever sees her, though they’re living under the same roof, sleeping on the same bed. The lingering smell of her perfume on their bedsheets and the dirty cup by the sink, stained with her lipstick, were his only proof that she hasn’t truly left.

Yet.

He would forever curse himself for hurting her that night. The scar marked across her chest would be his everlasting reminder of how much of a monster he is. One that doesn't deserve a lover. A lover as precious as her.

Perhaps this is where he should draw the line. Let her go and watch her flourish from afar. End whatever it is left of their relationship before every good memory and pleasant affections turn into guilt and hatred. No, he would rather die than have her hate him. He could never bear such torment.

Yet seeing the fading glee surrounding their home, Remus could understand if such a feeling is already brewing in her heart.

His brood was interrupted as he heard the front door open. She finally arrived. An hour earlier than her usual timing, yet still late at night. He quickly wipes the tears off his eyes with his sleeves, plastering a fake smile to not worry her even worse. The last thing he’d want is for her to pity him though he knows he must look like the most pathetic bloke right now.

“Remus,” She greets, surprised to have found him still up and with untouched plates of food “Why are you still up, Love?”

“I cooked for us.” He answers with a smile, hiding the disappointment that she has indeed forgotten their anniversary “I thought it’s been a while since we’ve had dinner together, so.”

She places her bag on the table, taking a seat with an apologetic look, “Remus, Darling, I’m sorry but- I was starving earlier so I ordered some takeaway and I-”

“It’s fine,” Remus cuts in, taking the plate in front of her and feeling even more foolish of himself yet concealing it with a shrug “More for me, then. I mean, it’s almost midnight. I’ll be even more worried if you haven’t had dinner.”

She nods, eyes still filled with sorry.

“How’s your day, Love?” Remus asks, taking a piece of his meal “Anything interesting happened today?”

“No, nothing interesting happened, unfortunately.” She sighs, running her fingers through her hair in despair “The potion I’m developing hasn’t shown any promising effect and we have to wait until the next full moon to try out the new batch.”

He smiles sympathetically, taking one of her hands and caressing it softly.

Remus hates yielding to the ugly ideas that have been plaguing his mind, but it was clear for him to see that his condition is starting to change her view. At least, in his mind, she’s doing all this research to cure his condition because she was embarrassed to have a werewolf as a boyfriend. One that will hurt her and is obviously an improper partner for her. She’s the brightest witch of their year. Her career as a healer is blooming while he couldn’t even manage to keep a job longer than three months. Why would such perfection stick around with someone as damaged as him?

“Your scar hasn’t fully healed.” She says, taking a jar of her self-made healing balm and gently dabbing it to his skin. In a few seconds the red wound was healed, leaving only a thin line that is hardly visible to the eye “There. Beautiful as always.”

“You’re embarrassed of me, aren’t you?”

He wasn’t sure what came into him but the sudden raise of his tone had certainly made her blink in surprise. Perhaps the frustration of missing her has finally reached its peak, or the disappointment that she’s paid no attention to today’s date. Either of which, it was powerful enough to fuel such anger in his chest. Remus was never one to get angry. He was always the calm and composed one in every other argument they had before. With this sudden change of action, he was sure that a storm was coming.

“What- Embarrassed of you? Remus, what are you talking about?” She asks, sounding appalled “I’m only trying to heal your wounds.”

“I’m a werewolf, Love, I’m supposed to have wounds!” He answered, voice raising to make her quiver on her seat “All you seem to care about is to make me look pretty. Heal my wounds, make them look invincible. I’m a monster, I’m supposed to have scars!”

“You’re not a monster, Remus, stop saying that!”

“I am a monster! Stop trying to deny it!” Remus continues to yell, the veins on his neck more visible now “Look at yourself, for Merlin’s sake! I’ve scarred you. I’ve hurt you that night and now I have to live the rest of my life with such regret.”

The tears welling on her eyes have now fallen heavily. She’s never seen Remus looking so angry yet so vulnerable at the same time. She could feel the frustration and hatred he holds over himself, cursing and blaming himself for the accident that’s happened.

“I’m a damaged goods beyond repair, Darling.” Remus continues, smiling pitifully for himself “You can’t cure me.”

“You don’t know that.” She says fast, trying to light just a spark of hope to his dull eyes “We’re making progress with the potion. Not much, but we’re getting closer.”

Remus chuckles darkly, “If you really want a non-werewolf boyfriend then you should just break up with me and find another man. I’m done being your lab rat.”

With those last venomous words, he stood from his seat and stormed into their bedroom. The loud slam of the door made her flinch. He was hurting, physically and emotionally.

All she wanted to do was to help him. The regret Remus is having for that night is burying her alive, too. She was the one who gave him the wolfsbane and brewed the potion herself. If anyone were to be blamed for the accident, it was her. She must have done something wrong to have cost him to lose control like that. The fault was hers, not his.

But there’s no use of arguing when both of them are too emotional. If she were to continue, she was sure that more damage would be done. Remus is already feeling insecure of himself and their relationship. He would surely not listen to any of her words. At least, not tonight.

—-

Remus woke up with a bigger heartache than the previous days. Her side of the bed was neatly tucked, no sign of her purse by the side table. She must have left for work as always. Even after their huge fight last night.

Perhaps he should feel more thankful over the fact that she didn’t leave him for good. The words he spat last night must’ve been more painful than the scar he’s left on her chest. He wasn’t even sure how he could have the heart to accuse her like that, even after years of her evidently showing her love and affection towards him.

He was about to pull the blanket once more, trying to halt the frustration he’s feeling with another hour of quick nap when he heard noises outside. Remus checked on the clock by the side table— 10.15. She must have already left for work by this hour, so what could be the cause of said noises?

Taking his wand, Remus walks to the door. The moment he opened it, the sweet smell of newly cooked pancakes was smelled. He could see her silhouette in the kitchen, back facing him as she hums softly to the song from the radio. Oh how he missed this sight. Her wearing one of his ugly shirts, candidly beautiful doing whatever it is she’s occupying herself with.

“You’re awake.” She says softly as she turns, smiling gently at him “I’ve made breakfast. Come sit.”

Remus, not making a sound, only nods and takes his seat by the table.

“I’m giving you more cakes cause you didn’t eat enough last night.” She says as she places his plate in front of him, planting a kiss to the side of his head “Go on, eat.”

He stares at her, embarrassed and feeling undeserving of her kind gesture after what he’s done last night.

She raises her brows, “Come on, now. You’re not asking me to feed you, are you?”

Remus smiles, finally taking his cutleries.

The couple then have their breakfast in silence, occasionally glancing at each other and holding in an embarrassed smile as if they were back in Hogwarts. Though his heart was full, the guilt and remorse from last night is still hovering over him. He knows that he needs to apologise, try to ask for her forgiveness though he knows for a fact that he doesn’t deserve it.

“I’m taking some days off from work.” She announces as she places her cutleries down “I realised that I’ve been absent for too long and, well, I’ve got some sins to atone here at home. Starting with making up for the mistake of forgetting what yesterday was.”

“No, please don’t apologise.” Remus cuts in, feeling even more guilty now “I should be the one apologising, Love. I didn’t know what came into me last night. I’m so sorry for all the things I said to you.”

She smiles, taking his hand and holding it gently, “It’s not your fault to have thought of such an idea, Darling. I should’ve been more transparent about what and why I’m being so focused on developing the potion.”

Remus remains quiet, awaiting her further explanation.

“That night when you lost control, I couldn’t shake the memory of how fear and guilt were filling your eyes. I was hurt, yes, but I knew that I could patch myself and make myself good as new. What hurt me most was the panic on your face when you transformed back. How you didn’t want to touch me for days after that night. The guilt was eating me alive because I was the one who gave you the wolfsbane, I was the one who brewed you the potion. I’m the cause of said havoc, Rem.”

“No, no you’re not-”

“But I am, Love. I should’ve given you an extra leave of wolfsbane, or brewed you more potion. You couldn’t control yourself when you’re in the werewolf phase, the only thing controllable was our preparation and I was in charge of it. I was the one who made the mistake, not you.”

Tears were falling from Remus’ sad eyes. His hold of her hand is now firmer. He wanted to argue about how she was never in the wrong, it was his and his fault only. Yet no words were able to be uttered. His heart has taken over his brain and made it unable to create coherent sentences.

“Ever since that night, I promised myself that I will cure you. Not because I was embarrassed of you, but because I don’t want you to undergo the same painful torture any longer.” She continues, starting to cry herself “Remus, you’ve gone through so much pain in your life, already. If I could try to lift this one burden of yours, you bet your arse I would do it, whatever it takes. I would trade anything to stop you from feeling the pain of transforming ever again.”

Remus nods, finally understanding her absence and feeling more at fault to have thought of her with such ugly notions.

“I’m so sorry to have caused you so much worry, Remus. I should’ve told you since the beginning and not have myself too occupied with my ambition. It was never in my intention to make you feel like you were a lab rat.” She gently explains, caressing his skin with her thumb “If it would make you feel better, I’ll stop the research and we’ll continue our preparations as usual. I’m doing this for you, but if you’re not comfortable with it, we can always abort the mission.”

Never in his entire lifetime has Remus felt more loved. He’s hurt her and instead of hating him, she tries to cure him instead. The extent she’d done to show her love for him was beyond his imagination and he’s unsure if he was deserving of it.

He pulled her hand and kissed it, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you and I know I’m being selfish, but please never leave. Please never leave me.”

“I won’t, I promise.” She smiles genuinely, pulling him into a hug “We’re in this together, alright? Don’t you forget that.”

Remus nods, burying his face deeper to the crook of her neck. He pulled her closer, hoping that his embrace could show her just how much he loves her. For once, Remus felt that being a werewolf isn’t so bad after all.

#marauders #remus lupin #remus lupin angst #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x oc #remus lupin x you #the marauders #marauders imagine #marauders scenario

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