#( I feel like because it ended up morphing into two different scenes it made more sense to separate it. Still this was really fun. )

[sandboxscenes]

Familiarity in the Unfamiliar (Summer Festival Prompt - 2/2)

A/N: Based on Obon Festivals and Dances like this one here and here. Done in conjunction with @xianyoon and their summer festival prompt for EBG. (Part 1)

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You take Lyney to a Summer Festival in Inazuma, and after introducing him to the festival, you propose a challenge to him.

Word Count: 1378

A Yagura.

That is how you introduced Lyney to the giant wooden tower erected in the center of the city. As you and Lyney sit down on the grass lawn and eat the Inazuman delicacies piled on your plates, you decide to take this time to explain more about the festival.

In between bites of piping hot Yakisoba noodles, you explain to Lyney that the Yagura is an important part of Obon festivals.

"It's like the main stage. People dance around it as a way to welcome their ancestors. From how my friends explained it me, they tell me that when they dance, it's like they feel their ancestors are right there with them."

Lyney ate another bite off of the Yakiniku skewer you held out to him. "Is it like a vision?"

"Not quite. Well, sorta. Those dances don't fill you with power per say, but you do feel something when you go out and dance. If I had to compare it to something, it's kinda like a prayer. That's how it feels to me."

You look at the people dancing around the Yagura. You quietly watch them as you hear the drums resound through the air.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

For those brief seconds, your heartbeat and the drums become one. Everyone dancing in the center of the Yagura seems to move in unison to the beat of the drum. In your head, you can count the beats of the song and remember its movements.

One, Two, Three, Four.

One, Two, Three, Four.

You thoughtfully look at Lyney as you take a bite of the Yakiniku skewer he holds out to you.

After you finish your bite, you smile. "Tell you what. When we're done here and after we rest, how about we try a song?"

Lyney's eyes widen. "Really? You won't even come on stage with me for any of my shows, but you'll dance here?"

You shoot Lyney a deadpan look. Both of you knew very well how stage shy you were when it came to public events with him. Unless he insisted on it, you preferred to spend your time watching his shows from the stage wings or from the audience. Despite how long you two have been dating, you immediately rejected him when he asked if you wanted to play a part in one of his tricks. You declined.

If you didn't have to stand in the spotlight, you wouldn't.

You shrugged. "I think it's because there's people to follow. And everyone here is doing the same dance, so as long as we follow along, we don't stick out."

"I see." Lyney takes a bite of the Yakisoba from your fork. "Do you remember the dances?"

"Not all, but there is one I want to do with you."

Lyney raised his eyebrow. "Which one?"

"It's called the Fukushima. It's a fast paced song that can sometimes last for fifteen minutes or more. They play it at Obon festivals, but the steps here are local. There's actually two variations here. I want you to do the fast version with me."

While you explained the Fukushima, Lyney listened intently. His eyes never left you. In the time it took for you to explain, he finished off his Yakiniku skewer. He washed his Yakiniku down with some water.

"So," Lyney said, a mischievous grin on his face, "what will you do if I can last? If I can do the dance for the fifteen plus minutes?"

"I'll buy you ice cream," you said.

"And?"

Now it was your turn to be confused. "And what?"

"And I want you to kiss me and tell me that you love me."

Your eyes widened. You told him about the Fukushima partly because you were excited, but also because you really wanted him to do it with you. But as past experience has taught you, you figured that if you and him tried going for the whole fifteen minutes, both of you wouldn't be able to move the next day.

You felt your cheeks heat up once more. "Maybe let's just do whoever can last the longest. No bets or things like that."

"Why? You made the offer. And it would be heartless of me if I didn't accept your offer to dance."

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"So you don't want to dance with me?"

"I do! But…"

"But?"

You looked towards the people dancing in the center. "But I want you to have a good time too."

Lyney winked at you. He pulled you into a hug. "Let's dance together then, okay?"

All you could do in his arms was nod.

After you finished eating, both of you sat and talked for an hour. Then, when you heard the telltale yells and drum beats coming from the Yagura, you and Lyney rushed over to the center like two excited children, hand in hand. You told Lyney that to do the fast Fukushima, you had to both stay in the center.

Surrounded by other people, neither of you could fully get a good look at the people in the center who were doing the steps correctly. As a result, the song began, it took a little while for both you and Lyney to get the steps down for the song. In your case, it had been years since you danced to it, so the quick steps got you twisted and messed up your timing. You ended up having to count the beats aloud so that your steps matched.

But both of you got the hang of it fairly quickly. Once you saw that Lyney got the steps, you decide him to show him another variation of one of the dance steps. Instead of clapping your hands together at the end, you would clap your hands with each other. The first time you did it, Lyney wasn't sure what you wanted to do. But after a couple of rounds of doing the steps, he understood. In the final step of the dance, he clapped your hands together with his, before doing it all over again.

As the song continued, you felt your legs, calves, and arms burning. It had been ages since you did something this strenuous. You looked over at Lyney and despite his perfect steps, you saw the sweat on his brow.

The song continued. It felt like you were doing these steps forever.

Then, suddenly, you heard the song start to speed up. Despite how tired you were, you perked up. You and Lyney were right there. It was the light at the end of the tunnel! If you and Lyney could last through the speed up, you will have succeeded.

Both of you pushed through, and finally, the song ended.

As people left the middle of the circle, it felt like you could finally breathe again. You didn't know how stressful it was trying to keep up with the steps of the dance, and your body felt like jelly. Everything was burning: your legs, your arms, and your lungs. You felt the heat radiating off you as the wind tried to wick away your sweat. You pinched the side of your waist as you tried to stand tall to catch your breath.

"So, we did it," said Lyney, smiling.

At first glance, it seemed like he wasn't as out of breath as you was. But when he got closer, you could see the exhaustion in his features. You could see the heavy sweat on his brow. You could see the tired look in his eyes. You could hear him panting.

Running on pure adrenaline, you held out your hand up for a high-five. Lyney obliged.

"We did," you smiled back. "We lasted for fifteen minutes! And you did really well for your first time too."

"It's a good thing we have a day off tomorrow too," Lyney said slowly.

"Yep." You nodded.

You gently place your hand under Lyney's chin and guide his gaze towards you. You leaned in and briefly placed a kiss on his lips. You hold his gaze, and look into his violet eyes, hoping that you can get your feelings across to him.

"Thank you for dancing with me and for bringing me to the festival tonight. I love you, Lyney. Now, let's go get some ice cream."

[drconstellation]

First-Order Archangels

Part 1: Maybe You'll Spot An Archangel

GABRIEL: I told you you could ask. However, I am the only First-Order archangel in the room, or, you know, the Universe, so I'm not gonna answer so much. But you feel free to knock yourself out with all the asking.

While I was writing my meta series The Passion Of Jimbriel it became fairly obvious to me there was something more going on between Crowley and Gabriel in S2 than just the numerous pointers to Crowley's pre-fall angel status. They are acting as both parallels and foils to each other, and in places you can swap their characters and get the same story at a different time – and that just opens up a whole new window of context and insight into things. For pre-reading, see this meta from @vidavalor that nicely lists some obvious parallels. It doesn’t mention everything though, so I’m going to discuss parts in more detail.

A foil is a character who contrasts with the protagonist, to highlight or differentiate certain qualities between the characters. Crowley and Gabriel do this because they have come from essentially the same place, and share some story elements, but they still end up in different places.

There is a lengthy original discussion about Crowley's pre-fall angel status here, for pre-reading. It points out the obvious and some not so obvious points that ops have noticed in S2 telling us about Crowley's pre-fall status. Rather than just go through them all again, I'd like to look at some other scenes in S2 that also tell us something about both the similarities and the differences between these two high-powered entities as I go along. In addition, I’ve done a series of posts looking at Gabriel as a shoulder angel (links at the end of post,) because quite often he’s on the demonic left-hand side – which makes sense when you realize he’s a Crowley parallel.

Take the arrival of Gabriel to Whickber St and the bookshop. I’ve already mentioned this parallel story line a couple of times now, but lets look at it again in more detail. It mirrors the opening of S1E1 where the serpent climbs the wall of the Garden of Eden, morphs into a demon and starts to converse with the angel standing on the wall.

Back in the present day, we have a Gabriel, who also tends to present on the sinister-side, walking up to the gate of the present day Garden (the bookshop), which is still guarded by the same angel as it was 6000 years ago, and basically tells Aziraphale he has “fallen.”

How to we know this? It is a reference to the Fall of Man, when Adam and Eve ate the apple the serpent offered them, they suddenly became aware of their nakedness, and hid from God. Gabriel has already upset the love-apple tomato cart on his way to the door of the bookshop, its a sign of the chaos to come.

The fallen angel is not sure of his name, so he prompts with a question��

And asks for shelter under the (reluctant) angel’s wing..

But there is one thing he does know, the one thing that drew him to Aziraphale in the first place:

AZIRAPHALE: Then why did you come to my shop? GABRIEL: I don't know. I just thought I should. You know what it's like when you- when you don't know anything at all, and yet you're totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person?

Later, Aziraphale realizes that he must give Gabriel a new name to hide him – because fallen angels take on a new name, don’t they? Just like Crowley did.

Then we get a confession:

Which is what Crowley loves about Aziraphale as well - that bit of unpredictability, because you know how humour kind of works? It throws the unexpected at you.

Early on in S2 we find out they are both in trouble: first His Royal Smugness, then Our Hero himself. Our view is turned upside down, with the angel made the bad guy and the demon the good guy who needs to win. But both of them are being hunted by Shax.

Then we get one of the early clues pointing to Crowley's high status as an angel:

SHAX: A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of Archangels could've performed. CROWLEY: Mm? SHAX: Somewhere very close to your friend's bookshop. Are you telling me you don't know what caused it? CROWLEY: How'd you know I didn't do it?

Shax stalks and threatens both of them, sometimes at the same time:

Another parallel Gabriel and Crowley shared in S2 were associating their identity - no, lets rephrase that - "essence" was one description I've seen - with boxes.

Gabriel arrives with a box that strategically covers his front, and quickly tosses it aside once Aziraphale opens the door to the bookshop. It lies forgotten until Gabriel mentions it a while later. Inside it is the fly from Beelzebub - an object from Hell - so it really needs to be 'invited' across the threshold of the bookshop by Aziraphale to be able to enter. The box initially appears to be empty, Once inside, the fly is free to roam. It has a message written on one side of it.

The same goes for the matchbox. Message included.

ah, wot? you say. Yep.

The matchbox represents Crowley, probably in more ways than one, but I'll just go through the stuff relevant to this meta here.

I notice I'm not the only op to connect the line from the Book of Job on the side of the matchbox with Crowley. The line is from Verse 41, which talks about Leviathan. Among the various shapes it is described to take is a great sea serpent. This deserves its own meta for further discussion, which I plan to do after this one, because yes, Crowley is Leviathan in disguise, but there is much more to it than that. But for now, just know that the matchbox is Crowley.

Once you know this, it makes sense that Muriel finds it - a discarded cardboard box by the front door to Heaven - and deals with a material object that shouldn't by rights exist in Heaven. Then a certain demon finds Muriel lurking outside during the siege on the bookshop at the end of S2E5, and talks them into letting the certain demon be escorted up into Heaven where he doesn't belong, where he's free to roam around - only he needs a guide because he's not sure where to go. Ah Muriel, you poke the Serpent, he's going to poke you back. Good thing he likes you, and it just was a gentle nudge.

Two empty boxes, two cases of memory-loss. That is what S2 seems to suggest to us at first glance.

Gabriel's seems to be the most straight forward in hindsight - find the fly and restore Gabriel to his original "Gabriel-ness." But its more complicated than that. When pushed to remember, his lilac eyes return and another voice can be heard speaking through him of the past. This happens twice, with the second one being part-prophecy. What is really triggering these episodes of channeling? Is it God or someone else speaking through him? We really aren't sure at this point in time.

Then there are questions around Crowley's memory. Did he have his memory wiped when he fell? Was it wiped repeatedly? Was it not wiped at all, and he just pretends he doesn't remember? Neil has even said he is an unreliable narrator about his own Fall, so who are we to trust at this point? Crowley does seem to understand in the end some of the problems Gabriel is having with his absent memories and that brings them to a temporary truce.

Both Aziraphale and Michael inspect their respective "empty" boxes, and neither notices anything obviously amiss. Gabriel's box just seems empty to Aziraphale, he takes no notice of the fly container in there, and archangel Michael tentatively inspects the matchbox brought to them by Muriel but nothing seems out of place there either.

Crowley's change in costume in Heaven during his little infiltration caper with Muriel is also another clue to his past status as an archangel. He has a silvery-gray suit, similar in style to Saraqael's to reinforce the link with them, but at the same time he is also mocking the other archangels and their elite status. We've assumed for a while now that the appearance of the tactical turtleneck signals that Crowley is up to something sneaky or spy related, but I'm starting to think it also relates to a bit of a power play (and Crowley certainly laid the power on for Mr Brown in the pub!) Looking back at S1, Gabriel's not adverse to wearing one either when he needs to be at his worst (or best. Your choice.)

The way one dresses is a way of expressing and reinforcing authority, and its something both Gabriel and Crowley do without much thought. They have been used to being in a position of power and/or independent authority for much of their existence, and I would say that even if Crowley is a few steps down now from where he started, and he's more cautious around those higher ranking than him than he used to be, he still retains that knowledge of what its like to be at the top.

Crowley's usual near all-black costume is a form of power dressing in itself. Whether is was in the past, when black was an expensive color to buy and maintain in clothing, or in the present day, we are still respectful of those in a stylish cut of black.

Gabriel's impeccable tailoring as Supreme Archangel also commands respect. So it's no wonder that one of Gabriel's first requests on regaining his memories was to ask for new clothes! He wasn't just being the vain archangel we believe him to be (although, I think there is still some of that) you also need to consider the elements of the reference characters that went into his shop assistant character: Granville, the belittled shop assistant nephew from the sitcom Open All Hours, who got stuck with all the shop duties from his uncle and felt like life was passing him by, and the silly Monty Python gumbies, that complained of hurting brains - lovable and much loved characters, but not ones you'd really want to be forever. We all want to be loved, but we want to be respected as well.

For all his fierce posturing around Gabriel, there is a brief moment in S2E3 where Crowley backs down and treats Gabriel as an equal - and that is reflected in a change of dress as well. His outside jacket off and sleeve-garters on, Crowley sports a look we haven't seen since S1 when he was home alone in his Mayfair flat. He patiently explains gravity to a curious Gabriel and then describes his "Operation Lovebirds" plan to his puzzled companion. He admits he hasn't "done weather in ages." It's just a quiet, charming moment, watching two ex-archangels get along together.

You're smiling, aren't you?

This meta continues in Part 2: Foils of War, where the differences between Gabriel and Crowley get explored in more detail, and how Aziraphale and Beelzebub act as mirrors to each other a few times as well.

This meta is part of a series on Gabriel: Gabriel as a Shoulder Angel: S1 Study S2 Study Part 1: Ep.1 The Arrival and Ep. 2 The Clue S2 Study Part 2: Ep.3 I Know Where I'm Going and Ep. 5 The Ball S2 Study Part 3: Ep.6 Every Day

First-Order Archangels Part 2: Foils of War

First-Order Archangels Part 3: Seeing Eye to Eye

[slvthrs]

picture perfect part 2 🤍🙈 i wanna know what vinnie would say and do after the onlyfans suggestion HAHAHAHHA also more vinnie smuts please 🫶😉

ofc babes

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION | vinnie hacker

— MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD —

VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, making a sex tape, degradation n and praise kink, brat taming, oral (f and m receiving)

word count: 1.2k

The idea of an only fans had been plagging Vinnie’s mind for a week now, he knew he was famous and it was gonna be fucking stupid of him to  jepordize his carrer like that but god he can’t lie, the idea of you putting on a show for him made him feel some typa way.

You looking up at him with your doe-y looking like innocent girl whilst you were begging to be fucked like a slut on camera… It made him hard just thinking about it so after careful deliberation and a long talk with you he decided he wanted to make sex-tape.

Not for anyone to see, only for him, only for his girl. He wanted something to remind him of you when he was far away for weeks at a time, he needed a token of your affection, and this was it.

So as he pressed the start record button on your phone and settled back into your shared bed, you could both tell both of you were excited.

This was new, it was different and it was a reminder of who you guys belonged to… it turned you on.

"Hey princess, you ready?" He said with his raspy voice, snapping you back into reality.

Imagine if his fans, no, his friends, saw him right now. He had just ended one of his streams, so his voice was fucked due to all the yelling and laughter and it made him sound that much more enticing.

You swallowed all your nerves and looked at the blonde boy's eyes searching for what he was feeling but all you could see was admiration mixed with potent lust.

With one last word of encouragement you said to yourself you started palming his dick through his boxers causing a low groan to stumble out of his lips helping you gain some confidence as you picked up the pace causing more disgruntled noises to slip through his lips.

As you pulled your hands away, you replaced it with you mouthing at his aching cock through his boxer causing a wet spot to pool on his boxers with a mixture of pre-cum and your spit whilst you look up at him through your lashes.

"F-fuck stop being a bitch and teasing me" He throws his head back and as much as you want to be a brat you know if you act good the results are usually a lot better for you.

You pull down his boxers in a swift motion and start jerking off his dick while rolling his tip with your thumb. You re-adjust so the screen can see his leaking tip.

As you pick up the pace he pulls your face up and kisses you and whispers in your ear, "Good girl keep going for me" the words of praise are clearly meant for just the two of you softening the crudeness of the scene.

You fall back down to your knees with a thud! and start kitten licking his tip lapping up the salty cum. He tries pushing you to take the whole length in your mouth but you move his hands and run your tongue along the bottom of his dick from the base to his tip and place a kiss on the top of his cock.

You're playing with fire because Vinnie is reaching his tipping point and it's evident as the look on his face is morphing from one of pleasure to one hiding the pleasure with impatience.

You tease him for just a little longer until he grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your mouth to take the entire length causing you to gag.

"God can't you every just be good" He says while fucking your face hitting the back of your throat every-time.

As tears start to from in your eyes he keeps using your throat as a flesh light, your spit coats his dick and some of your makeup is starting to get fucked up.

"My stupid little doll, you love my dick so much don't you? You're such a whore" The mix of degradation and possessiveness causes you to man on his cock sending vibrations up his body and gaining you an airy moan.

He keeps going, making sure you know who you belong to and fucking your throat absolutely stupid- you're not gonna be able to talk for days.

"My silly little bitch, i've fucked you dumb haven't I?" He asks but he already knows the answer.

With a few more thrusts he finishes in your mouth but pulls out midway so his cum splays all over your face.

While you try to catch your breath he readjusts the camera so it has a better view of what’s about to happen.

When he returns to the bed he pulls you onto his lap and kisses you completely not caring he just came in your mouth. But the kiss deepens and he pushes you onto the bed with him hovering over you and putting both your hands together above your head.

“More, please” you whine out.

His eyes blew wide and he surged forward, this kiss was a fucking mess, too much teeth, so fucking sloppy and your sure  you tasted blood and sweat but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

He leaned down and placed a kiss on the inside of your  thigh and looked up at you “You want this baby?” It turned you on more than you would like to admit.

“Oh god yes please” It came out as a breathy whine 

As soon as he heard it, he stood up pulling your lacy bra off of you and manhandling you onto his bed and pushing the short skirt up to reveal your while little panties and how fucking soaked they were by just him hovering over you, “Fuck you really want this don’t you slut” he chuckled and you fucking moaned at that.

“Oh yeah you like that whore, you like being this easy for me?” He breathed out as he made contact with your soaking pussy.

“Oh fuck Vinnie, right there, fuck please right the-” Your blabbing was cut off with a moan as he made contact with your clit swirling his toungue in circles it was so so good it’a so much and fuck your close and he barely started.

“Vinnie I-Im close” you muster out threading your  hands in his hair you feel so fucking good you could die here him around your  thigh eating you out like your a rare delicacy.

“C’mon cum for me doll” he chuckles out and goes back to pleasing you.

You completely bliss out and roll my eyes out to the back of your head and your legs throb and you finish all over his face. You stay like that for a bit completely on cloud 9, you're both soaring and god you never wanna come down. 

He steps up, shutting the camera off and picking it up and walking to you. 

He starts playing the video before you quickly grab the phone out of his hand and smack him on his chest, “Hacker play this shit alone no with me here!” You whine and pout

He just laughs at your reaction and squeezes your thigh before placing a chaste kiss on your lips,

“You have no idea how many times I’m gonna cum to this video babe”

[lol-jackles]

Have you watched X-Men '97? I'm blown away by how much I enjoy it.

YES! Absolutely exceeded my expectations, this is how revivals should be done! Cyclops vindication! Colorful costume vindication! Wolverine being a regular teammate instead of "Wolverine and friends" vindication!

Non-spoiler reactions:

It's so obvious that the people behind it are not only X Men fans but also fans of the OG series and made the show for the adults that grew watching the series. Xavier, Cyclops, Gambit, and Rogue were all shown a lot of love and given consistent character development and their arcs emotional pay offs. And I really like the friendships between Storm and Jean, Morph and Wolverine, and Nightcrawler being wise and nice to everyone. Magneto was undoubtedly the MVP, his entire storylines is just incredible, and, uh, I guess relatable that he can actually convince viewers that genocide is the answer. The action sequences was awesome and fluidly animated, bonus the very creative uses of powers. Every character was thoughtfully written and in character.

My only complaint is there should have been two more episodes because once the Genosha massacre happens we just kind of skyrocket through bunch of different plots. I wished there was more episodes to feel the impact, like see the world's reaction to the massacre more and some more character moments especially after Xavier and Storm returned.

In conclusion, this is the best adaptation of X-Men outside of the comics and still feel like something new. They perfectly set up for season 2 and the end scene of Gambit's card is going to make me have unreasonable expecatations.

....possible spoiler for season 2

Don't mind me, I'm just enjoying fanboying Gambit as the horseman of Death and Elric of Melnibone in one fell swope.

[novelmonger]

I'm continuing on to the next LotR audio commentary. This one is with the design team, and there's a lot more people talking in this one! Including:

Grant Major (production designer), Ngila Dickson (costume designer), Richard Taylor (Weta Workshop creative supervisor), Alan Lee (conceptual designer), John Howe (conceptual designer), Dan Hennah (supervising art director/set decorator), Chris Hennah (art department manager), and Tania Rodger (Weta Workshop manager)

So here are some highlights of things that are new to me (after avidly watching all the BTS documentaries multiple times over the years) from FotR:

The guy who made the One Ring originally didn't want to do it because he didn't like fantasy, but then his sons badgered him until he agreed to do it - kind of a similar story to Viggo Mortensen, I think. He ended up contracting cancer and dying during the production of the first movie.

Alan Lee storyboarded a potential sequence for showing how Bilbo got the Ring. They would show Gollum grabbing a fish, taking off the Ring while he ate, and then it would roll away until Bilbo found it.

Some of Ngila Dickson's phrases and diction are pinging really loudly in my sense of deja vu - like, I remember hearing those exact phrases before. But I even went and watched the costume design portion of the Appendices, and none of it was a repeat. Have I actually heard this commentary before and then forgot all about it? @_@

The guy (the primary guy? I can't imagine it was only one person) they put writing on all the scrolls and things worked in a bank and had a hobby doing calligraphy. They hired him to do just a few things at first, putting writing on some props, but then it got to the point where he actually had to quit his job at the bank and start working full-time for LotR, and then continued to do stuff for merchandise for New Line. I do wonder what he did once the movies were all made and over with....

I always forget how they had to have two scales of everything. Not just stuff like Gandalf's staff or the sets, but they had to have two scales of all the props like cups and books and things. They even had to have two different sizes of horses, depending on the scene!

Lawrence Makoare, who played Lurtz, would have to start getting into makeup at 10 p.m. the night before he had a scene, so that he would be ready at 8 a.m. the next day @_@

Most of the horses used in the movies were Andalusian horses imported from Australia.

When they would film outside in nature, like in the forest where they shot on-location scenes for Rivendell, they would have to remove the native plants that were there, keep them in a greenhouse, plant whatever plants and other things they needed for the movie, then take them out again and put the original plants back. This would actually leave the area better than the way they found it, because they would remove weeds and things like that.

John Howe commented on how difficult it is to do hair in something like this that's meant to be kind of "historical," even though it's fantasy. Hairstyle is one of the things that is quickly outdated, so if you do it wrong, it can be jarring to watch the movie in later decades. He said, "I wonder how it will look 20 years from now." It's twenty years later, John. It looks every bit as good as it did in 2001 :')

Okay, I feel like this had to have been in the BTS documentary, but I don't remember it. For the moment where Bilbo goes Gollum-esque for a second when Frodo puts the Ring away, they morphed between his face and a puppet they made of Ian Holm looking deranged. Ian Holm was thrilled with the puppet and had several photos taken of himself with it, and then when it was time for him to leave New Zealand, they made a bronze version of the puppet and gave it to him as a memento! XD

For the shots of the Fellowship bursting out of the snow after the avalanche, they went to the Mt. Hart ski field, which was closed because of a blizzard. They were allowed to go out on the ski field, make snow caves, and film the actors bursting out into the open. The Hobbits wore Ugg boots over their hobbit feet in the snow when their feet wouldn't be in the shot XD Apparently, Richard Taylor actually asked Peter Jackson if there could be a scene of the Hobbits wrapping their feet in bandages or something, just so the actors could protect their feet a bit more in harsh terrain like that, but PJ said no, because the Hobbits' feet would be tough enough to be able to withstand all of that. Poor guys! x.x

Huh. I always assumed that they made the effect of ithildin by putting little glowing lights on the doors of Moria, or else maybe added it in post. But actually, they put some kind of reflective material on the design, and then shone a light from behind the camera, so it would reflect on the design and make it look like it was glowing! I feel like, if this movie were made today, they would totally have just done it with CG, but this makes it so much more realistic. Also, they had to paint the doors, but obviously couldn't paint over the reflective material, so they put plasticine over the design, then painted it, then took the doors to the site. They were still taking the plasticine off the doors when the whole crew and the actors turned up and started rehearsing the scene! So apparently, if you look hard enough, you can actually see a few small parts of the design on the door that are missing, because they accidentally left some of the plasticine on!

Okay, we all know about the crazy amount of attention to detail in these movies, but this story just takes the cake. In the room with Balin's tomb, there's all this Khuzdul writing on the walls. Someone wrote out all the text and had their in-house translator translate it into Dwarvish runes that they then carved into the walls. During one of the days they were shooting the cave troll battle, they had invited a Tolkien language scholar to visit the set, and he stormed out in an outrage, saying that someone had written something like "Joe was here" on the walls, which was disrespectful to Tolkien's legacy, etc. etc. Horrified to hear this, the art department got their translator to go over the set with a fine-tooth comb, trying to find the "graffiti" this guy had seen, because they'd already filmed a lot of shots of this scene, and they knew that there would be fans who would freeze-frame the scene and translate what's written on the walls. But they couldn't find it anywhere! So eventually they cornered the Tolkien scholar and asked him where he'd seen it, and it turned out that it was just some guy on the crew who'd told him that. Apparently, the Tolkien scholar was so uptight and serious about everything, this guy was just poking fun at him, and it snowballed from there. So they ended up wasting a lot of time looking for a mistake that wasn't even there, because that's how dedicated everyone was to getting every detail of this movie right.

The Moria orcs were originally designed to have pale, almost translucent skin (inspired by an axolotl! O.O), but when they saw footage of it on the first day, they realized the contrast with all the darkness in Moria was too much, and it made the orcs look like they were glowing, so they had to make them darker.

The eyes of the Moria orcs were enlarged after the fact, so when they made the prosthetics, they had to make the eyeholes extra big so the eyes would look like they fit after they were enlarged.

Originally, there was an idea that the Balrog would burst out from a wall somewhere while they're trying to jump across the gap in the stairs, and just generally make that scene even more tense and exciting, but then they realized that to do so would basically eat up half their budget, so they decided to do it the way it is in the final version XD

The boats' design was based on a leaf of a lemon tree. If you drop a lemon leaf in the water, it will look like a tiny version of the Elven boats! 8D

Ohhhh, so the scene where the Fellowship gets attacked by Orcs along the way down the Anduin was going to be a sequence at Sarn Gebir, where there are dangerous rapids, so the Fellowship has to land on the shore and carry their boats past. But then Orcs attack, there's a whole action scene, and they have to hurry back onto the water and navigate the rapids. But they never shot it, because right after they'd built the set and got all ready, they were hit with a lot of rain and flooding, and the water level in the lake where they were filming rose five meters and completely washed away the set. So that whole sequence got permanently canceled.

While working on Amon Hen, Alan Lee fell off the stone seat (kind of like Frodo!) and broke his wrist. Thankfully, it was his left wrist, so he could keep drawing.

The Uruk-Hai's hair was horsehair that they had to import because they needed it in such large quantities. In the location where they shot the battle at Amon Hen, the ground was covered with prickly bracken of some kind, so every time an Uruk fell on the ground and then got up for the next take, they would have to carefully pluck all the bits of bracken out of their hair @_@

The fletching on the Uruk arrows is supposed to be, not feathers, but Warg hair O.O

Okay, I knew they made a silicone dummy of Boromir for when his body goes over the falls, but they only had four days to make it?! :O

In the final scene, where Frodo and Sam are looking out over Mordor, what Sean and Elijah were actually looking at was a ski resort with cabins and a ski lift. "The one place in all Middle-Earth we don't want to see," indeed! XD

[soundlesslament]

Since no one answered my questions about "Dragon Age: The Veilguard", I ended up caving and buying the game, and here are my findings. Plus my Rook, because he is very cute.

Spoiler-free!

THE GOOD

The game is nowhere near as linear as some reviews made it seem! You can still explore large areas, finding secrets and picking up quests, and do said quests in whatever order you choose.

The Codex remains and is great.

The game looks beautiful, even at low resolution. I love the illustrated narrated scenes. The look of the 'hub world' is customizable and cozy too.

If party banter gets interrupted (e.g., by an enemy encounter), the characters will pick it back up later.

You can set an 'appearance' outfit to override the look of whatever armor you actually have installed. No more choosing between appearance and stats. All armors can also be upgraded.

You can pet cats and dogs, and even hug a baby gryphon. I have had Assam for one day and if anything ever happened to him I would kill everyone in Tevinter and then myself.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

There are many difficulty settings, including a "storyteller" mode for players who are more interested in the story aspects that allows you to disable death for your character. No need to stress about boss fights.

THE MAYBE

In general, I love the new combat system. I am not a fan of strategic combat, and this feels much more dynamic and fun. That said, they also made it way too complex. Besides short and long-distance attacks and skills, there are special effects using different key combos, using runes, setting up combo attacks between (otherwise independent) party members, and changing weapon types.

They did not override most decisions from previous games. Everything is simply not mentioned. The only exception is when you ask about the companions from "Inquisition", as it assumes all companions were hired, which wasn't obligatory to do. Also, for some reason, Vivienne is not mentioned at all.

Regarding discourse around the game: People are apparently complaining about the game being 'woke', but honestly the only thing I have noticed is that you can have your character be transgender. And maybe Taash struggling with her mother complaining she isn’t feminine enough (is that woke now?). That's about it. There is no 'woke ideology' in the game. I don't know who is making that up.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE BAD

The character creator is bad. You have to choose three different premade faces and morph between them instead of working with each separate feature (which you can only adjust a little). I couldn't recreate my Inquisitor properly because it was impossible to alter the eye shape to what I wanted.

I also couldn't give her the scars and tattoo she had. In fact, the scar and tattoo options aren't the best. Some scars look a bit cartoony. There are no small tattoos.

More bad writing: it makes no sense to sideline the quest to stop Solas and have the two evanuris be the villains instead. I think they are interesting, but this development is not the best.

Bad writing. Not all the time, but enough times to be noticeable. Emmrich talks like a cartoon character in his introductory mission, for example; fortunately, it seems to be toned down later.

Bellara has it the worst of all, though. She is the bubbly, ditsy maniac pixie girl that I am sure is some tech boy's dream. The 'cutesy' way she talks and squeaks honestly makes me uncomfortable. I have been actively avoiding having her in the party.

Choosing a faction doesn't really have that big of an influence on the game. Your faction will grow its influence faster and there will be a few lines acknowledging your history with them, but that seems to be about it. There are no special missions, nor a separate start like in "Origins". It feels a bit like an afterthought.

Despite having dialogue choices with different 'personalities', Rook always agrees with everything. The different lines all end up being the same basic response, just in different words/tones.

You can't talk to companions unless there is an event involving them. It's immersion breaking. Seriously, they couldn't have a couple lines on repeat?

[russeliarat]

I would love a sequel to one of the four sword games that, along with the main plot, Link has an entire conflict with the whole splitting thing.

Perhaps they make it canon that he doesn’t feel whole, that he feels like four stuck in one body, how they may argue and then split as a result, or how they feel conflicted returning the four sword as being stuck together brings so much pain.

I want to see these four feel pain and talk things out and hug and cry dammit, give us emotional Link Nintendo!

Btw, fun fact: in the Japanese version of botw all of Link’s journal entries for quests are spoken in first person and have some of his opinions. For example, the first quest he gets from Zelda (going to the first map tower I believe) he writes in the quest that the “pretty voice” told him to go there.

And the translation teams or some higher ups REMOVED THE FIRST PERSON FROM SOME TRANSLATIONS.

I know they took the first person entries out of the English release, but I hear they apparently did so for the Chinese one as well, and maybe more. They are so determined not to give us Links with personality.

Omg literally THIS. If Nintendo really will make an animated series, I feel like an extended animated version of the Four Sword manga would literally be perfect. It's a trusted, beloved story with strong themes and characters and dynamics and has some really beautiful character development that made me cry the first time I read it (I don't cry easily). Compared to the actual Four Sword Adventures game it was based on, it's a perfect adaptation in its own right!

If I had any ideas on the format of an animated series, it would likely be extended during the adventure so it shows them helping all of the maidens, and maybe have a separate show or season dedicated to what comes after their merging (I'm planning this as if it were an actual show lmao how sad).

The whole ongoing joke about Green being the 'original Link' would be really interesting to explore as well! The whole idea of the others’ humanity and their own existence and the terror of just ceasing to exist once they finally merge would be a great plot point. Though, I think since Vio is away from the group with Shadow, he would have differing opinions to the others who will eventually want to merge, while Vio likely wouldn’t because he's been influenced by Shadow. Imagine a big scene where they use the joke cope but it all blows up in their faces one day because Blue became really nervous about it and, at that point, he has no idea how to deal with it other than to get angry/upset. They're forced to grapple with their lives and the possibility of death from a kid’s perspective. Red's likely terrified but his optimism would likely help the other two get through until they can finally accept the idea of nothing on their own terms.

And then you got the idea of whether Shadow would really die or if he's merely stuck within the merge Link's shadow. If so, then would he ever be able to reform? How so? How would he react to a merged Link? How would his relationships change and morph after him switching sides and rejecting his ‘evil’ roots, after his pretending to be Vio, after he literally died for the Links?

Because I’ve been wondering about this for a while, I found out that up to the end of the Yellow Maiden’s rescue, the manga is somewhat accurate to the game though highly simplified due to it’s limitations. It makes me wonder if Himekawa were allowed to create more chapters/volumes of the manga, would they continue up until the Purple Maiden’s rescue before continuing onto what I like the call the manga’s ‘second act’ with Shadow and Vio as the focus? Or do you reckon they would intersperse them together as the story continues? Honestly, if I can come up with ideas, do you reckon I should explain ideas for the rest of an extended story? There would be so much symbolism (the back of the legendary edition has a picture of Zelda with white lilies and me loving flower symbolism means I know it means rebirth and purity. Take that as you will.).

(Fun fact, I thought the White Maiden was a light blue/turquoise for months until I looked at Zelda Dungeon’s FSA walkthrough...)

I found out about BotW Link’s first to third person log entries a while ago and have been trying to find direct translations for the first person entries for so damn long. I was absolutely fuming because it was one of the rare chances English/Chinese audiences would have gotten to see Link’s direct thoughts! Personally, I think it’s been changed by the translation team for the same reason that Link doesn’t talk - because people have different interpretations of Link and the Sheikah Slate logs would have been the most direct way of establishing a specific personality beyond dialogue choices. They likely wanted to play it safe.

[dasehnsucht]

Another test post

You take two parts intense desire to do something. To that, add one part mild apathy often manifested as nonchalance. To this, add a splash directionless. And bing! Hey presto, you’ve just created your very own me.

In German – why do Germans have all the good words? – there’s a word called Sehnsucht (pronounced zen-zucht). It means to long for something. Some unknown thing. Some thing that you know you want, but you don’t know what it is.

Psychologists use Sehnsucht as a way of putting a definition on the thought or feeling of a part of life which is unfinished or imperfect. Whatever that may be. Perhaps it’s a painting you’ve always wanted to paint, but never painted. Or a song you’ve wanted to sing, but never… sung? Or a… you get the point.

“2024 is the year I learn something new,” I said to myself on the 31st of December 2023. Out came the pen and the paper. I’m ready to write down everything I want to learn. I even write a nice title and everything. Ideas for things to learn… in big, bold letters.

But then… nothing.

I sit, the ink slowly staining the page as the ball-point rests atop the paper. My mind is blank.

I couldn’t think of a single thing I had even a passing interest in. Nothing. This is, I think, a symptom of the one-part-mild-apathy in the Me recipe.

On the one hand, I know that I want to do something new, but on the other, I’ve no interest in doing anything. I still, right now, typing this, can’t think of a single thing I want to try, learn, do, experiment with, explore, play with, watch, read, or listen to.

It’s a legitimate issue.

Often, I’ll look at all my friends doing things, experimenting with hobbies, talking about films they’ve watched, stuff like that, and wonder if there’s something fundamentally wrong with me. According to my therapist, there isn’t. Also, according to her, this feeling will go away at some point. Let’s agree to disagree there.

Why do they all have an interest in things, I think, but I’m here, basically a blank slate of a human who’s somehow made it to 27 years old with no interests or hobbies? If we’re keeping score, it’s Me 1, Therapist 0 with that.

I had a hobby once though. It was graphic design. I was legitimately excited to learn more about the topic, to keep up with the trends, to try new things. But then it became my job… or at least part of it. As is the way with monetising an interest, it morphed into a chore. So now, I don’t want to do what once was my hobby because it feels like work.

The merciless clutches of capitalism have taken my passion away! Is perhaps what a more politically minded person would yell into the ether. A movie would put this scene outside, in a thunderstorm. The protagonist kneeling on sodden grass, screaming up to the unrelenting black sky.

It would be his dark moment at the end of act two. From here, there’d be some kinda montage, where he’d try a bunch of different things, resulting in our hero finding the hobby he’d been looking for. Sehnsucht banished. Long-awaited sequel no longer needed.

But unfortunately, to quote Cinema Paradiso, life isn’t like in the movies. Life… is much harder.

Perhaps the antidote to this is to just force myself to do things? Treat myself like a Sim who simply has no choice by to try new things until he finds something he likes?

Who knows.

[sigmastolen]

Good News Everybody, It's Time For My Opinion!

ok so i finished reading the graphic novel of the visitor the other day and i have many, many more opinions about it than i did about the invasion, possibly bc i read the book first this time instead of afterwards--

ok so we Have To address the Sameface. every single child character has the same face. sometimes the adult women have it, too. in the invasion, where tobias was still human, i had trouble differentiating him and rachel because they both had long blond hair. in this one, i had trouble differentiating rachel vs. melissa vs. jordan. their faces look exactly the same because all the kids' faces look the same and they all make the exact same facial expressions and they all have more-or-less similar physical builds and yeah some of these blond kids have freckles or are slightly different shades of blond but he doesn't even do different eye colors. this is A Problem. and it's not entirely due to grine's ability, because other books of his feature more diversity in character designs -- but those books are a little more cartoony, and i think the realistic style they've chosen for this series does him no favors. it restricts the character design, it restricts the expressiveness of the humans and the animals, and it probably restricts other comics storytelling devices as well.

he's making a good go of it with the animals but speaking as a Cat Lady, i think he could have made rachel-as-fluffer more expressive, even while maintaining the more realistic style. people who aren't Cat People in general don't understand how expressive cats can be, i think -- there's this public perception that they're aloof and flat and it's so far from the truth. (i also feel like you can see him getting better at drawing cats as the book goes on lol whoops)

grine is, however, doing a great job with the body horror of morphing. every book talks about how gross it is, but these graphic novels are the first time i've really felt that come through.

i don't remember if either the invasion or the visitor are outliers in terms of the action vs. thinky balance, or again if i just didn't notice bc of my reading order with the invasion, but the visitor in prose spends a lot of time with rachel just in her head, thinking and observing and having feelings and it really lost that in adaptation. if i didn't know from the book that the shrew was terrified and fleeing and also wanting to eat maggots, i would have no idea from the panels of a close-up shrew appearing to be just chillin' -- you don't get the shrew horror until the 2-page spread of the nightmare. and speaking of the nightmare, there's barely a hint of rachel's guilt for lying to jordan and mistrusting her. if i didn't know rachel thought it was weird and creepy that mrs. chapman was mechanically chopping vegetables in utter silence, i would have no idea. i was confused in the gn when rachel accused tobias of snitching on her to cassie because when this supposedly happens on-panel, cassie is giving rachel a look and tobias just happens to be also sitting there, but in rachel's narration in the book there's like a whole paragraph about how she can tell tobias is thought-speaking to cassie privately. and this is an adaptation choice, because this problem could be solved by thought bubbles or narration boxes to give the characters literally any level of interiority, instead of having to rely on dialog and the aforementioned restricted expressiveness to get across what is originally a lot of complex thought. he ends up using thought bubbles on literally two pages of 202 and i'm sure it's because those two scenes would be literally incomprehensible without the thought bubbles helping the reader interpret what's happening, but you know what? it would be nice to have that throughout -- it would aid comprehension and it would make for richer storytelling. i'm halfway into the encounter now and that story is even more interior because of tobias's isolation; i hope grine et al. make some different adaptation decisions, because the approach in the visitor will prove unsustainable.

ok now some fun things:

i like this joke because it reminds me of henrietta pussycat from mister rogers' neighborhood

i don't remember this joke from the visitor, was it unused material from the invasion? either way, thanks for that, marco. (although i do think the speech bubble placement could be improved -- if jake says "what's your point" in the first panel instead of the second, the joke and his reaction face land better)

this is a great sight gag

lol relatable

i'm sorry but grine uses this kind of angle -- from behind rachel -- a lot in the last fight and the little x reminds me of that tweet

[goldentournesol]

Truth or Dare

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer is married with children and JJ confesses her love for him. Length: 2.7k A/N: this is technically a bonus chapter of The Receptionist and the Profiler but can definitely be read as a standalone. this is my take on the JJ confession, enjoy! don’t be shy, leave a comment or reblog! masterlist

Y/N furiously clicked her mouse in response to her computer screen lagging. She released an exasperated sigh and placed her head into her hands. She could practically feel the bags under her eyes increase in size and depth as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Raising two children and being the BAU’s liaison was proving to be extremely difficult, she couldn’t go out into the field or travel with the team as much. After what happened with Cat Adams, she had a hard time leaving Emelia and Adaline. Emily only requested her help as a liaison in the field when she absolutely needed it, anything else could be taken care of from Quantico. Her head pounded against her palms and her only reprieve from her incessant headache was closing her eyes. She must have dozed off in her office because the next thing she knew, she was waking up to a warm hand squeezing her shoulder.

She shot up in her seat, heart beating at an alarming rate until she was met with her husband’s eyes. Her shoulders instantly relaxed, “You’re back.” She said with relief, standing to wrap him in a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked into her shoulder, squeezing her tighter than usual.

She fought back a yawn and nodded, “Yeah, I’m just exhausted.” She pulled back and rested her hands on his face to inspect for injuries and found none on his face. A bandaged hand wrapped around one of her wrists and she gasped, “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s not that deep, just a little gash.” Spencer said dismissively, his thumb rubbing against her wrist. “Let’s go home.” She nodded and quickly packed her things, eager to see her two baby girls.

On her way out, she noticed JJ and Rossi speaking in hushed tones. She managed to wave at them as she and Spencer made their way to the elevator. Rossi waved back, JJ looked away. Y/N had thought nothing of it, perhaps this had been a hard case on her. At least they had Rossi’s wedding tomorrow to look forward to and unwind a little. The girls would be with a babysitter and Y/N was looking forward to dressing up and hopefully getting a little (a lot) wine drunk.

Spencer was silent the entire way home, which wasn’t uncommon, so again, Y/N had thought nothing of it. As soon as they made it through the door, Emelia and Adaline came running up to the door, squealing with glee. Each parent scooped up a baby girl and showered them with kisses until they switched. 

Here, with a beautiful healthy daughter in his arms, he could forget about all the confusion of JJ’s confession. Spencer usually dealt with these difficult things on his own and in his head. He hadn’t had time to process it fully to bring it to his wife. He would deal with it later, right now, all he wanted was to spend time with his three favorite girls. Y/N hadn’t noticed anything different in the way Spencer was acting around the girls, but each hug he gave her felt a little tighter. She appreciated it and was definitely not about to complain about receiving tighter hugs from her husband.

The suspicions began the next day at Rossi’s wedding. With the girls not serving as a distraction, Y/N began to see the signs of Spencer retreating into himself. She hadn’t heard all the details of the last case yet, but Emily will soon let her know.

Emily was in the middle of giving a speech when Y/N snuck a look at Spencer beside her. He was politely listening, but everything about his eyes let her know that he was elsewhere. She caught JJ’s eye across the room, it seems as though JJ was staring at her husband as well. Before Y/N could ask with her eyes, JJ had looked away once more, the aversion of her gaze hinting at shame. A sinking feeling resided in her chest. 

She leaned towards him, linking their arms together, her heart strings intertwining with his in some metaphysical sense. Her sudden affection made him turn to her and send her a small smile. He quieted down the question in her eyes with a tender kiss to her cheek, knowing for a fact that the woman across the room watched what happened, a silent declaration of what he chose, what he will always choose.

Before they knew it, the music began blaring with Luke, Matt, and Penelope stealing the show with their dance moves. Y/N couldn’t contain her laughter as she watched them all prance around. In true Garcia fashion, she approached her and pulled her up to begin dancing. Y/N looked back towards Spencer for help but he just laughed and encouraged her to dance. All too soon, the music morphed into a slow paced rhythm. Turning around to ask Spencer to dance, she found the seat to be empty. Eyes flitting to the bar, she found Spencer and JJ in the middle of a conversation. 

“Hey, you can dance with me!” Tara said, whisking Y/N away from the scene. Y/N sent her a small grateful smile, but her curiosity was heavy.

“Is JJ okay? Did something happen?” Y/N asked Tara as they slow danced together. Tara was visibly taken aback by the question, she thought Spencer would have told Y/N about what had happened by now, but she decided that it was not her story to tell.

“Yeah, JJ’s totally fine.” Tara said dismissively and began steering Y/N away from that conversation. They soon broke apart to gather around the cake. Y/N was only half paying attention until she saw JJ take her place next to Will and was alerted of Spencer’s presence as he placed his hands on her hips from behind. She leaned into his warmth and let it go for the final time that night, she would ask about it when they were alone. But by the time the night ended, JJ was not on Y/N’s list of important things to remember. She was a little bit past tipsy and Spencer practically had to drag her out to their car.

The weekend went by smoothly, Spencer had his head buried in mountains of papers from his students even though Y/N told him that he could read them online and save so much paper. The weekend had come and gone and they were back in the office in the blink of an eye. The awkwardness between the two lifelong friends resumed. JJ was arguably the closest person to Spencer on the team (besides Y/N of course), so she found it more than weird that the two were actively avoiding each other. 

Lunch time came around and Y/N had had enough of it, she snuck into Penelope’s office.

“Hey, sunshine!” Penelope greeted, taking a hefty bite out of her donut.

“Hey.” Y/N said, leaning against the desk adjacent to Penelope’s, stirring her coffee.

“What’s going on?” Penelope stared at her knowingly. Y/N immediately put the coffee down and stared at Penelope.

“Did something happen between JJ and Spence on the last case?” Y/N asked directly, deciding that beating around the bush would help no one.

Y/N didn’t miss the slight widening of Penelope’s eyes, “Wh-what? Why would you ask that?”

“They’ve been acting really awkward around each other and JJ’s been avoiding me like the plague.” Y/N huffed. 

Penelope panicked, stuttering out, “I uh, I really think you should talk to Spencer.”

“No one’s telling me anything! Not you, not Tara! Should I be worried?” She asked, exasperated.

“Honestly? No, I don’t think so. Spencer loves you.” Penelope said surely.

Spencer loves you.

What does that even mean?

Y/N turned on her heel, leaving her coffee and marched all the way to Spencer’s desk. The carpet drowned out the clickity clack of her heels. Spencer raised his head from his files to smile at her.

“My office, now.” Y/N said simply, her tone neither angry nor cool, his smile retreating as he followed her like a puppy. Matt and Luke shared a knowing look between them and pretended to focus on their work so as to not get caught in the line of fire.

She closed the door and the blinds, crossing her arms and turning to see him taking a seat, “Care to explain why Garica just felt the need to assure me that my husband loves me? Or to explain why you and JJ have been acting so weird and having secret conversations? Or maybe why she’s been acting like I don’t exist for the past 3 and a half days?”

For a moment, Spencer looked like a child who had been caught stealing cookies out of the cookie jar, then his face returned to an unnerving mask of calm. This mask made her panic even more.

“Does this have anything to do with the hostage situation you two were in?” Y/N asked, she had just gone over the report that morning, but it had little to no details.

Spencer took a deep breath and rested both hands on his thighs, in any other circumstance, Y/N might have been tempted to sit across his lap and kiss him until they were both red in the face. But not right now, right now she needed answers.

“Yes, well--okay, yes. Something did happen. I promise I was going to tell you, but it never seemed like the right time to bring it up, I didn’t want to bring it up at home around the girls, and I didn’t want to bring it up here either.” Spencer said, leaning back to rest against the chair.

“What happened?” Y/N took a seat across from him, no longer feeling the need to attack, but rather to understand.

“JJ and I were being held hostage. The unsub, Casey, was about to shoot JJ and me. He told her to reveal something that she’d never say aloud and she…” Spencer swallowed, trailing off. Y/N leaned forward, already expecting where this was going.

“She told me that she’s always loved me and that she was just too scared to say it before.” He spoke softly, meeting her eyes.

Y/N blinked slowly, “Bullshit.”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows at her.

“Are you sure she wasn’t just saying that in front of the unsub to get him to back down? Are you sure it was real?” Y/N said, standing up from her seat. She paced around her room, trying to piece together any evidence from the past few years that could back up that claim.

JJ had been the one to push Y/N and Spencer together. JJ couldn’t have had all these feelings for Spencer. What about Will? Henry? Michael? They were her and Spencer’s Godchildren for crying out loud. Y/N’s brain was going a hundred miles a minute. Spencer watched her pace around the small office.

“I, I don’t know. It seemed real.” Spencer wished what he had to say would calm his wife, but he really didn’t know at this point.

“Do you…” she swallowed, the question heavy on her tongue, “do you feel the same?” The tears were ready, resting at her waterline, waiting for the call. Her insecurities were ready to take over.

“No!” Spencer objected, standing from his seat. Normally, his defensive reply would have made her suspicious, but the look of utter shock and hurt on his face quelled any doubt that arose.

“No, I don’t. I love you. I have always loved you. God, you know this, I’ve loved you even when you weren’t mine to love. I’ve loved you since I was just a baby faced profiler and you were just a receptionist. I will never stop loving you and the girls, Y/N.” He said definitively, walking towards his wife and grabbing her clammy hands in his. He pressed a gentle kiss to each of her hands, staring into her teary eyes.

The cavern in her chest began to patch itself up as he looked at her that way. She had no choice but to believe him. 

“Okay, I believe you.” She smiled, a tear escaping. He reached up to tenderly swipe it away. With a simple tilt of his chin, he captured her lips in an intense, passionate kiss and like all of their kisses, he took her breath away. But something about the desperation in this kiss made it hard for her lungs to perceive air. He had a point to prove.

A few moments of silence passed between them and Y/N took a deep breath, “I should talk to JJ.” 

Spencer hadn’t pulled away yet, “It’s your choice, my love.” He placed a soft kiss to the center of her forehead and stepped back to catch her eye, “Are we okay?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at him, “Yes, we’re okay. Can you ask JJ to come in after you leave?”

With a nod and another kiss, he left the office to go summon JJ. Y/N took her seat at her desk and folded her hands in anticipation, the undeniable and unrelenting feelings of anger and jealousy coursing right underneath her skin.

A gentle knock sounded throughout the small office and Y/N invited her to take a seat before her.

“Listen, Y/N, if this is about what I said back--” JJ began, but Y/N wasn’t interested in any of the formalities.

“Did you mean it?” Y/N asked, making direct eye contact. JJ was taken aback at the similarities between Y/N’s question and Spencer’s. They had both asked in the same way. She wasn’t ready back then. But she is now.

“Yes..” JJ whispered, averting her gaze once more. The gaze of the wife of the man she thought she loved was too heavy to face straight on.

“Yes, what? Do you love my husband?” Y/N spoke with an unrecognizable sharp edge to her voice.

“Yes, I love him. I’ve always known it. Things just got too messy too quickly. I have Will and the boys and I would never ever give them up. Spence-- Spencer has you and the girls and I could never dream of taking him away from you.” JJ spoke clearly, her eyes reddening and glistening with unshed tears.

“You are the perfect wife, I watched him fall in love with you. You’re also the best mother to his children, it’s hard not to be jealous of you.” JJ continued. The sinking feeling returned to her chest.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, I’m just doing my best. You’re one of the greatest mothers I have ever known. I need you to tell me that this is where it ends, JJ. I cannot afford the stress.” Y/N replied.

“This is where it ends, I promise. It’s over. He has you and Emelia and Adaline and I have Will, Henry, and Michael. If we were ever meant to be, then it would have happened. He deserves you, after everything he’s been through. He deserves you.” She said tearfully, wiping away stray tears.

Y/N stood from her seat and walked around her desk to embrace her in a tight hug. JJ cried into her shoulder, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know. It’s okay, we’re okay.” Y/N rubbed her shoulder, pulling away.

“Are things going to be awkward now?” JJ chuckled, blowing her nose.

“Only if you keep avoiding me.” Y/N joked back, JJ promised she wouldn’t and excused herself to get back to work.

Y/N followed her out and stopped at her door. Leaning against her door frame, she caught her husband’s eye across the bullpen and sent him a smile and a nod.

It’ll be alright.

They’ll be alright.

[onesweetworld18]

My Policeman mini review!

My screening was for the Gold Coast (Long Island) International Film Festival. The crowd was definitely patrons and people who belong to the Film Festival and genuinely didn’t know what the movie was. In fact, the man behind me said “oh, this one is in English.” Yes, sir, it is. There were only about 2 other Harry fans in addition to my friend and I. Sponsors giving our stuff we’re AARP and an assisted living company. I am not kidding. I think I almost enjoyed that more because no one reacted (in fact two people walked out).

First of all, it was so good. I really enjoyed it and was moved.

Props to the makeup department for really erasing any trace of Harry’s tattoos.

Harry felt like Harry to me. I know he was playing Tom, but it just felt so Harry to me. He was earnest and funny and so so complex. The way they cut between the narratives was done well. You got Marion’s POV and then Patrick’s and you saw things again and saw just how much Marion was willfully missing.

I read the book and did find that the depth of their friendship was missing, especially knowing how much Patrick was around. Like in the book, Patrick crashed their whole honeymoon, I don’t think it was clearly set up that it was their honeymoon.

The sex scenes were beautifully shot and show two VASTLY different experiences. The idea of passion is always brought up between the two relationships and it’s clear that only one had passion, the other was a formality.

David was beautiful to watch. He has such a pull on camera and he’s mesmerizing.

I thought Emma was good, but Marion didn’t feel as fleshed out. Gina McKee really stole the show. You felt her trying to make up for 40 years of hurt. Linus Roache is the one who broke me. The end scenes? And the way he is just realizing that he wasted so much of his life.

At the end, Tom (Linus morphs into Harry) kisses Patrick’s head and it is the saddest thing and what made me lose it.

I am so glad that Harry got to do this movie. I believed every ounce of his performance and I hope that he feels validated getting to play this role.

[xaharadesert]

Accidental Potion Drinking - Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Main 6) x MC

A/N: This is one of the super cute requests I’ve gotten from @firefly-child! It’s taken some time to get to it (as I’m currently working through older requests), but I’m super excited to write something light and fluffy :) the backstory provided was along the lines of MC and their LI having a little wine night when MC accidentally grabs the wrong bottle and they end up drinking a harmless potion instead, which is a really fun request! I don’t know anything about wine, so I’ll just casually skirt around that issue by leaving it to the reader’s imagination, but since the type of potion was left up to me I’ll definitely be having some fun describing the effects! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, and requests are open!

TW: drinking, consumption of alcohol, tipsy characters, mentions of alcohol, sorry I don’t really know how to tag for this kind of thing, but the alcohol bit is really only mentioned briefly to set up the scene

❤️Julian❤️

It didn’t take long to realize that you had grabbed the wrong bottle, considering that after the two of you had taken a few sips of what you had thought was wine you had both started slowly floating upward

There were a few moments where Julian thought to himself “wow, this stuff must be pretty strong, I kinda feel like I’m floating” before he realized that, oh, he was, in fact, floating

This was followed shortly after by only a second of panic, which quickly turned into delight when he remembered he was dating a magician and this sort of thing was probably normal for you

Honestly though, as endearing as it would be for him to simply trust that you were pulling a harmless prank, you would probably be panicking a bit more because oh my stars you grabbed the wrong bottle and which potion was this exactly?

But of course, Julian has an infectious laugh, and seeing as you were already a bit tipsy and nothing majorly bad was currently happening, you dissolved into a fit of giggles as well

By now the two of you were drifting near the ceiling (thank goodness you were inside), laughing at each other as you tried not to spin too far apart

The effects of the potion wore off a few minutes later, seeing as you had only had a few sips each, and you settled down peacefully, no harm done

🧡Portia🧡

The two of you had been having a rather peaceful evening, for once devoid of any sort of job or task that needed tending to

You were genuinely relaxing, drinking wine and telling bad jokes that would send you into full-bellied laughter— the kind that only seemed to grow whenever you tried to stop

With that being said, it wasn’t that surprisingly when the two of you developed a bad case of the hiccups after a while

What was surprising were the bubbles that floated from your mouth afterward

Although you were initially confused, Portia’s obvious delight at the magical turn of events quickly dissuaded your worries

She was always thrilled whenever you performed even the smallest bit of magic in your daily life, and this was no different, even if it was an accident on your part

Her hiccups only seemed to get worse as she laughed harder, tears of joy starting to spill from her eyes

The mood was infectious, and you would find yourself joining her in her pure delight

Small moments of joy such as this permeated your relationship, but this one in particular would always be a favourite of Portia’s, she was sure

💛Lucio💛

You know, even with Mercedes and Melchoir’s incessant barking, you two had been having a rather relaxing evening, sharing your favourite wines with each other as Lucio regaled you with endless stories of his epic past battles and parties

However, as always, things took a turn in the most unexpected way

The two of you had only taken a few sips of a bottle you had brought out when you noticed the dogs’ barks seemed to sound… different

You tuned out Lucio for a moment and came to the realization that you were, in fact, hearing actual genuine words coming from the dogs’ mouths as they yelled at Lucio, an endless chant of “Dad, dad, dad!”

Lucio seemed to have not noticed, so you gave him a gentle shove and motioned for him to be quiet and listen to the dogs, which promptly lead to his own eyes widening and his mouth hanging open as he processed what was happening

He was thrilled, obviously, to be able to communicate with his beloved dogs, and all thoughts of the story he was telling were forgotten

In all honesty, Mercedes and Melchior didn’t seem to have a lot to say other than “Dad!” and “Love!”, but Lucio’s eyes were brimming with tears anyway as he hugged his dogs close

Let’s be real, having the opportunity to tell a beloved pet that you love them and to have them understand it would be one of the greatest feelings of all time, and Lucio was determined to not waste a second

What may have been a small mistake on your part was one of the greatest moments of Lucio’s life, in his words

💚Muriel💚

It wasn’t noticeable at first— then again, Muriel’s voice was rather deep

But after a few more sips, you couldn’t deny it; his voice was definitely getting higher

He had been in the middle of telling you about something funny one of the chicken’s had done that day, and you had been quietly listening, but now you absolutely had to know

So, as politely as possible, you interrupted him, only to find that, oh, yeah, your voice was much higher than before

Both of you seemed pretty shocked, but let’s be honest, it’s hard not to laugh when it sounds like both of you had just inhaled helium, which, apparently, was the effect of the potion you had accidentally poured out for the two of you to drink

Muriel tried to stifle his laughter, but failed miserably as you embraced the situation and let out a long and loud sound of joy

There was no harm in drinking the potion, luckily, so the two of you decided to continue as you were, telling stories in the most serious voices you could while trying not to burst out laughing

💙Asra💙

Most evenings you spent alone with Asra were filled with quiet laughter and gentle light continuing to illuminate the room even after the sun had bid you goodnight, and today was no different

You had opened a new bottle of wine just a few minutes prior, despite both you and Asra having slightly rosy cheeks from being a bit tipsy already

The cozy light of the lantern above your head reflected off of him in a way that almost made him seem like he was glowing, although combined with the way he dressed it wasn’t very unusual

That was until you reached out to him to push aside a stray curl from his face and subsequently realized that relative to you, he really was very much actually glowing

You had been telling him about a particularly stubborn customer earlier, and as a result, hadn’t had as much to drink, so the difference was clear

He picked up on your surprise quickly, and reached up toward his own hair, thinking perhaps there was something stuck in it that startled you, only to also see his skin was glowing with a faint light

Of course, he knew as well as you did that potions were often misplaced in the shop when there was no real urgency to keep them sorted, so he knew right away what was happening, and, frankly, he found it hilarious

If you were at all apprehensive about drinking random potions while tipsy, Asra would have been pick to put those thoughts from your mind by quickly downing more of the potion and snuffing out the lantern

This on it’s own would have been a funny sight, but when he smiled widely at you and you noticed that even his teeth were glowing with a bright white light, you wouldn’t have been able to do anything but laugh, which, of course, had been his plan all along

He would encourage you to drink the potion as well so the two of you could wander around in the darkened Vesuvian streets and scare other citizens :)

💜Nadia💜

Wine nights with Nadia are pretty common— it’s one of her favourite ways to unwind after a long day of working to improve Vesuvia

However, she’s usually the one providing the wine (seeing as she’s a very wealthy Countess), so nights like this one, where you brought over some of your favourites to share, were rather uncommon

The two of you weren’t particularly tipsy when you accidentally poured a potion into her glass instead of wine— an accident that you immediately recognized when Nadia morphed into an entirely different person in front of your eyes

Nadia herself seemed a bit surprised as well, seeing as the effect of the potion usually left the user with a mild child down their spine

You were quick to point out the error and apologize, but to your confusion Nadia seemed thrilled with the mistake

Blending in with Vesuvia’s population to gain a better understanding of her people was something she had always struggled to do, but you had just handed her the perfect opportunity

Wine forgotten, she grabbed your hand and lead you toward what was sure to be one of the most adventurous nights you had ever had in Vesuvia

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

The God of Magic just wants humanity to be happy and thriving;

Version 1, Good!Merlin

INTRO

(Version 2, Dark!Merlin)

~

“You’re late.”

From their place in the bushes, the gang can see a wide grin break out on the woman’s face as she raises an eyebrow:

“You’re always getting distracted by pretty flowers or interesting conversations, how was I supposed to know that you’d be on time for once?”

Her voice somehow sounds like an ocean in a storm, ear-splittingly loud as the sound cuts right through them to the core, but also a gentle stream, soft and clear and soul-cleansing. The gang struggle not to flinch in their confusion.

Merlin chuckles slightly, shaking his head as he softly replies:

“Ah, I see, you were expecting me to be late, so you told me to turn up half a candle-mark before you intended to get here.”

She raises an eyebrow and nods:

“In the hopes I wouldn’t have to stand around and wait too long,-”

She shudders slightly as her face falls, though she manages to look beautifully intimidating even with a slight scowl on her face:

“-you know how much I hate it up here, on dry land.”

Merlin nods. He looks around him passingly, and the gang tense as his eyes rove over their hiding place; their fear is quickly replaced with shock (and even more confusion) as it strikes them that they’ve never seen Merlin look so relaxed, so at ease. He finally looks back to the woman:

“Hmm. I may not agree with you on that, but I understand. I could have met you at Avalon, you know.”

The woman frowns even more, and the gang can see Merlin tilt his head in question, even more so when she replies:

“I... wanted this conversation to be private, away from the prying eyes and ears of Mother and our Siblings.”

Merlin’s shoulders tense, and Arthur can vaguely see the outline of his hands clenching tightly in his pockets as his cloak billows in a sudden wind. The knights, Gwen, and Morgana all look to each other in confusion, Merlin had never spoken of siblings before, in fact, they’re fairly certain he specifically told them that he’s an only child. This woman was so drastically different from Merlin in appearance, they couldn’t possibly be related by blood. Perhaps she means "siblings" in a similar sense to how the knights are brothers?

A tense silence passes between the two, but it’s quickly broken by Merlin letting out a deep, bone-weary sigh, his relaxed demeanour completely dissolved, and looking to the floor, mumbling:

“What’s this about, Ava?”

The woman, Ava, the gang now know, lets out a sigh of her own, tilting her head and waiting for Merlin to look at her again before speaking, her voice sounding more consistently soft the more she spoke, as if she needed practice to regulate her volume:

“I think you know, Em.-”

(”Em?? I guess that could be a shortened version of ‘Merlin’, but... not really.”)

“-Time is running out, existence is threadbare as it is, and only getting worse with each passing day. The world is splitting, cracking down the middle; magic is running thin-”

Everyone feels Arthur tense at the mention of magic, even more so at Merlin’s non-reaction to the word. Though everyone is already understandably on edge by the way the woman speaks as if the world is ending around them, and they hadn’t even noticed:

“-and we are starving. The fates of The Bane-”

Mordred manages to stop himself falling backwards, but his sudden shaky breath earns him a concerned glance from Gwaine, crouched besides him:

“-and The Darkness have been avoided, if you do not move forward now, then when? With every day you stall, you plan, you stand idly by and wait, we choke on the gaping emptiness of a world that is leaking.-”

Merlin holds up a shaking hand to stop her, his other running through his hair in frustration as he murmurs:

“I know, I know-”

The gang watches with tense, morbid curiosity as Ava cuts him off, her expression both annoyed and sympathetic:

“I don’t think you do, Em. You haven’t been home in years. Could you stand it? To be God of Magic with no Magic to be God over? No universe to hold dominion over?”

Merlin scoffs slightly and walks to the side in his frustration, and the gang can see the melancholy annoyance on his face, plain as day. It’s almost enough to make them forget that he visited Ealdor just last month. It’s definitely not enough to distract them from the fact that she had called Merlin a God. The God of Magic, of all things. What the fuck??:

“I don’t hold dominion over anything I just... am.”

Ava rolls her eyes:

“That’s not the point and you know it. Mother sent you to fix the problem, to stop the purge, to encourage the Once and Future King to bring magic back and start the Golden Age. He has been King for years, but you still act as a servant. You are a God, Em, assert yourself. You could fix the world with a click of your fingers, but you wait for the humans to do it for you.-”

Merlin interrupts her slightly impassioned speech with a deep huff and a shake of the head. From where he now stands, the gang have a healthy view of his side profile, and they can see the emotions warring on his face: frustration, grief, desperation:

“That isn’t... that’s not what I’m doing-”

She rolls her eyes again and the gang are vaguely aware of a distant crack of thunder as she gestures sharply with her hands:

“That is what you’re doing. You’ve become too attached to these... mortals.-”

She steps towards him, cradling his cheek in a soft, elegant hand as her face morphs to one of complete and utter sorrow:

“-You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak, Brother. Human lifespans, the lifespan of your precious Golden King, are but a blink of an eye compared to ours; they will all wither and die and fade from you, and you will be left with your grief forever.-”

Her other hand lifts to settle comfortingly on his shoulder, and the gang can see a single tear slip from Merlin’s lowered eyes:

“-Do what you came here to do, and come home, to Avalon, we miss you, Em, the family needs you back.”

Merlin stills for a few moments at her desperate plea, but then steps back, shrugging her hands off gently and wiping the tear from his face:

“No. I... I’m doing this properly. Mother understands my fondness for humanity, that’s why she sent me, and I’m going to do it properly.”

Ava huffs out a gentle laugh at his determined expression, shaking her head slightly in fond disbelief:

“How can you love them? These... humans, when they slaughter your creations, when they don’t even know what you are?”

Merlin smiles softly, his eyes gazing into the trees as he quietly responds, his voice full of enough adoration to take the gang's breath away, to temper the twinge of fear and betrayal that had been swelling in Arthur’s lungs:

"I love them because they don't know what I am. It's nice, to be human; to walk among them, being loved and hated and respected and touched as if I were not more than they could ever possibly comprehend. Humanity is... made of juxtapositions. Their existence is contradiction upon contradiction, weaved together and held with emotions so large I can scarcely understand how they're contained in such little bodies. I've been alive and watching them for millennia, lived side-by-side with them for almost three decades, and they still surprise me. To walk among them, to see them come to terms with this universe that We made for them, to see how desperately they crave knowledge, exploration, experience... it's beautiful. The way they love so fully, the way they find meaning and importance in every grain of sand, every ray of sun, every tuft of fur on every creature, it's humbling. It's astounding."

Ava has a soft smile on her face, looking as if she could listen to her Brother ramble about his love for humanity for decades. She shakes her head slightly, letting out a gentle sigh as she asks:

"Then why won't you save them? The Gods will starve without magic, but humanity will starve without the Gods."

Merlin pauses for a moment, his face scrunched in concentration as he tries to think of the right way to verbalize his thoughts. 

The gang stare on in unconcealed bafflement; the realisation that Merlin is some kind of God brings less fear or anger than they think it should. Maybe it’s the shock, or maybe it’s the reverent way he speaks about them. Either way, they stay still and silent in their hiding place, and eventually Merlin’s face settles back into a soft smile as he looks to his Sister:

"I wish to see them save themselves, not because We need them to, but because they want to. Because their desperation to explore this universe will one day outweigh their misguided hatred of magic.-"

He nods decisively, repeating in a confident voice:

"-I wish to see them save themselves."

Ava sighs once more, stepping toward Merlin and putting her hand back on his shoulder:

“Your wishes may soon become... irrelevant. We’re dying, Emrys,-”

Arthur struggles to hold in a gasp at that. Emrys. He knows that name. Apparently it’s the name of a God, and not just some secret sorcerer who took a fancy to Camelot and deemed himself it’s protector. Lancelot’s eyes widen, though he manages to hide his shock well; no one else is focused on anyone else’s reactions, all internally freaking out. 

Mordred is pale and breathing shallowly, being the only one in the group who had already known the full truth. Percival looks to be in shock, he grew up with the stories of Emrys, but to learn that Emrys was a God? That Merlin was said God? Not what he was expecting out of this little trip. Gwaine, Gwen, Morgana, and Elyan look worried, seeming to have pushed aside their shock in favour of being concerned over Merlin’s safety and sorrow. Leon stares upon the scene with scholarly-looking curiosity, hiding his apprehension and shock well. Arthur’s expression is... unreadable. Ironically, the only person capable of knowing what he was thinking just from looking at him was currently having an incredibly terrifying conversation with someone who is also presumably some kind of God(dess). 

“-time is running out. I know that you don’t want to, but... it might be best to tell them the truth. You adore your humans because of their ability to love, do you not think they love you enough to forgive you your deceptions?”

Merlin clenches his jaw, and it’s the anguish on his face, paired with his almost-whispered words, that breaks their hearts:

“I... no. Just because I love them does not mean they love me back. I’m just a servant, Ava, I’ll never be important enough to be forgiven, God or not; I’ve lied to them for over ten years.”

She sighs, letting a tear of her own fall as she quietly responds:

“Emrys, you undervalue your worth, they don’t-”

“No. I don’t. You’re right, I have one life-time with them, with... with Arthur, and then I’ll lose them, and I’ll spend the rest of eternity grieving. I refuse to taint the already short time I have with them by having to watch them grow to hate me. I refuse.”

Merlin frowns as Ava rolls her eyes fondly, a victorious smirk on her face:

“If you would let me finish. They don’t hate you now, despite learning what they have just learnt, and you have yet to tell them of all you’ve done for them. Their love for you will only grow, Brother.”

Merlin tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. The gang take in a collective gasp at the realisation that she knows. And has likely known the whole time.

“What are you talking about?”

Ava’s smirk just grows, and she looks to the bushes the gang is hiding in, seeming to make direct eye-contact with a panicking Arthur as she speaks, he voice echoing unnaturally through the clearing:

“You can come out now.”

At her words, Merlin’s head whips around to stare at where she was looking. He opens his mind, allows his magic to stretch around him, and his skull is immediately full to burst with echoes of Mordred’s earlier, and ongoing, warnings, as well as the overwhelming presence of The (former) Darkness, The Once and Future King, and the others. He takes a stumbled step back, hand covering his mouth and tears spilling from his eyes as he becomes more and more convinced of... well... his time being tainted.

The gang stand and shuffle out of the bushes slowly, eyes trained on the floor and hands clasped in front of them tightly. It’s Merlin’s quiet, cracking “No...” that has them look up, paling at the absolute heartbreak on his face.

Lancelot and Gwaine give him weak, though genuine smiles, holding their hands out placatingly, but they halt their movements forward when Merlin just copies them pace for pace, moving away from them.

No one notices Ava rolling her eyes, not until she steps behind Merlin and puts a halting hand on his shoulder, stopping him from moving further away.

Merlin whips his head around, and another loud clap of thunder sounds out, much closer than the other one, quickly followed by a sudden downpour of frigid rain. The gang look to the sky in confusion, and Mordred desperately tries to reach Merlin through the mental link, offering comfort and reassurance; Merlin doesn’t seem to notice, the rain falling harder and harder as he almost fall to his knees, speaking in a desperate voice to his sister:

“Why... why would you... you know what this means. Why... why would you do this?! Ava?”

She rolls her eyes again, seeming to glow effervescently under the rivers of rainwater running down her face and over her clothes. She forces Merlin to turn and look at the gang, holding her hands on his shoulders to stop him from backing away (or collapsing in his grief) :

“Look at them, Em. Do they look angry to you? You should have some faith in the humans you claim to love so much. Look at them.”

Everyone in the gang gives Merlin varying levels of strained smiles; though Merlin, in his panic, is unable to tell that the strain is from concern and guilt, thinking that it was instead from hatred. He falls to his knees, his eyes shut tight enough to give him a headache and his hands clamped over his mouth in an effort to hold the sobs in.

Gwen and Morgana are the first to rush forwards, not paying the slightest bit of attention to Merlin’s... sister or the knights as they collapse to the floor in front of their friend, not sure whether to keep their distance or try to comfort the distraught man... God.

It’s his next choked sob that urges them to move once again, and the girls pull Merlin into a hug, tears of their own gathering at his agony. He freezes at first, then tries to pull away as lightening streaks across the sky, the violent bursts in sync with his choked breaths. When Gwen strokes a soft hand through his knotted hair, and Morgana pulls him further into her lap, muttering “We’re not leaving you, Merls, not ever, we love you.”, he relaxes slightly.

The thunder and lightening cease, but the rain still pours as Arthur stares over the pile of crying bodies to the woman, whose eyes seem to be growing brighter and brighter in the deluge. She stares right back at him, and The King jumps slightly when her voice echoes through her head, despite her still face:

“My brother has lost enough, please do not shatter his heart.”

Arthur nods once, before following Lancelot’s lead to the others, the rest of the knights not far behind them as Ava disappears. Whether she walked away without noticing or simply faded into the rain, no one knows, but no one really cares either. Soon enough, everyone is gathered around Merlin, stroking his back softly and whispering comforting promises over the sound of the rain. When Leon is the only one to notice Mordred’s eyes flash golden as he summons a shield above them, he simply shrugs his shoulders and refocuses his attention on muttering reassurances in Merlin’s head.

His breathing slows after a while, as does the rain, though everyone panics slightly when they see Morgana frown as she strokes the hair away from his face, revealing flushed cheeks and closed eyes. Mordred’s eyes flash golden once more as he presses a hand to his forehead, though no one lets the shock distract them for too long, latching on to his relieved tone:

“He’s just asleep, that would’ve taken a lot out of him. We should get him back to Gaius.”

The knights all stand, stretching and cracking joints to try and rid themselves of the cold stiffness that had settled in their soaked bones. Morgana stays on the floor, clutching at Merlin in her lap desperately, like he could slip away at any moment. When Arthur leans down to pick him up, she shoots him a glare, her own eyes glowing as the wind picks up once more, whipping through the clearing in an obvious warning. Arthur takes in a gasp, but shakes the surprise from his mind as he settles a soft hand on his sister’s shoulder:

“I... look, we’ll talk about this later, and I promise you’re going to be safe,-”

He glances up to an equally defensive looking Mordred:

“-all three of you, but Mordred’s right, we need to get him home and warmed up.”

Morgana hesitates for only a second, but the concern (and love) in her brother’s eyes sway her, and she nods, ever-so-carefully pulling her arms from around Merlin and helping Arthur get the younger (or... much much older) man situated in his arms before standing up.

~

The trek back to the castle is a fairly short one now they don’t have to worry about being quiet, and the rain has almost completely stopped by the time they make it to the citadel gates. It’s late, so the only people they come across are the occasional guard. But The King resolutely ignoring them as he carries his unconscious manservant through the corridors, his closest friends and advisors around him either openly crying or blinking away tears... well... it’s something that very much screams “DO NOT DISTURB US DO NOT SPEAK OF THIS IMMEDIATELY FORGET EVERYTHING YOU HAVE JUST SEEN”.

Elyan runs ahead to wake Gaius and warn him, so by the time everyone gets to the Physician’s chambers the fire is roaring, a patient pallet has been moved in front of the hearth, and Gaius himself is bustling around, preparing various concoctions and tinctures and blankets.

Merlin’s still shivering form is laid on the pallet, and Morgana shamelessly uses her magic to pull the heat closer and dry out his clothes. Mordred sits protectively close to the servant, one hand subconsciously close to his sword, the other resting on Merlin’s shoulder. Gwen settles between him an Morgana, and the knights figure that with her complete non-reaction to the magic... she probably already knew, she was smart like that. Gaius finally makes his way to Merlin’s side, tipping a gross smelling potion down his throat and running a hand through his hair, frowning worriedly down at his ward. 

Not a single word had been said since they entered through the castle gates, and Arthur is the first to break the silence, sitting on Merlin’s other side, opposite Morgana, and settling an almost accusing expression on his sister:

“You knew, didn’t you?”

She looks up at him, somehow appearing powerful and intimidating despite being soaked through and shivering:

“I knew he was... powerful, I didn’t know he was a God.”

Gaius’ head whips around quickly, and Arthur is surprised at the questioning horror on his face:

“A God?? There must be some mistake, Merlin is powerful yes but he’s not-”

Mordred’s quiet voice interrupts him, though he doesn’t look away from the unconscious man as his fingers twitch over so slightly closer to the hilt of his sword:

“I knew. Though if I’d known he felt so... if I’d known how he felt, I would have spoken to him about it sooner, I apologise.”

Everyone looks at the group’s youngest member in shock, almost speechless, but Gwaine stutters slightly before clearing his throat and trying again:

“So... that was real, Merlin is a fucking God.”

Mordred nods absent-mindedly, eyes flashing golden as he presses his hand to Merlin’s forehead once again, frowning. Arthur’s brow creases in concern and he leans closer to Merlin:

“What is it? Is he ok??”

Before Mordred can reply, Leon speaks up, his voice tired, but strong:

“If he’s some... powerful God, then why is he hurt in the first place? Shouldn’t he be able to resist any sort of injury or sickness??”

Mordred shakes his head, finally looking away from Merlin to gaze at the group surrounding him. He looks doubtful at first, but when he sees the genuine concern on everyone’s faces, especially from Gaius and Arthur, he sighs and speaks softly:

“It’s difficult to describe. Merlin could access the full range of his power and do anything, if he wanted, but it’s draining and complicated when stuck in a human body. He himself is a God, yes, but this form is still vulnerable and mortal; he can get injured, and sick, he can die, or at least the body can. Merlin tends to repair this body when that happens, instead of moving on. He... likes it here.”

Everyone nods, understanding at least a little, though Gaius and Lancelot look the most shell-shocked. The room goes silent once again, and Percival, sat on the floor against the end of Merlin’s pallet with Elyan and Gwaine, is the first to speak, his voice shaking and sorrowful:

“He really thinks so low of himself. He’s a God... and he was terrified of the thought of us hating him, as if such a thing were even possible.”

Gwaine curses under his breath and Leon restarts his slow pacing around the room before he stops suddenly, turning to face the others with a look of anger on his face:

“Well of course he thinks it’s bloody possible. He’s right, we treat him like a fucking servant even though he’s one of our dearest friends, and half of us talk about the evils of sorcery on a near constant basis. He’s the God of Magic, of course he’d think we would hate him.”

Everyone is taken aback at Leon’s rage, though no one can deny that what he’s said is true. Leon is... quietly protective of everyone in the group, and it’s a time like this that reminds all of them that he had known Merlin just as long as Arthur had, and definitely held a certain brotherly affection for the younger (uh... yeah, whatever) man.

The older knight sags slightly, seemingly realising how exhausted he is, and pulls a chair up next to Arthur before collapsing in it, head in his hands. Arthur pats him on the back a few times before looking back to Merlin’s now thankfully not-shivering form, taking in a deep breath and nodding his head decisively:

“Well, we’ll just have to show him that it isn’t possible. I... we need to show him that he’s... important to us. Loved.”

Morgana just raises her eyebrow at The King, but doesn’t say anything as Gaius mutters a tearful “My poor boy.” under his breath. Elyan stands from his place on the floor, moving to perch on a bench behind his sister and setting a comforting hand on her shoulder as he softly speaks:

“He needs to know that we want him to stay here, with us.”

Percival shakes his head slightly, looking conflicted:

“Wouldn’t that be... cruel? That woman... Ava, was right. We’ll all grow old and die and he’s a God, he’ll live forever and he’ll grieve. Isn’t asking him to stay selfish?”

No one has an answer, and the room grows silent, everyone stewing in their own tense thoughts, trying to weigh the pros and cons, trying to measure exactly how selfish they were willing to be when it came to Merlin.

~

The sun rising over the horizon and peaking through the uncovered windows is what wakes everyone (bar Merlin) from their fitful sleeps. All of them had been plagued with odd dreams and nightmares through the night, so despite their exhaustion, they were grateful to be awake.

No one said anything though, waking one by one and pacing briefly around the room in an attempt to cure themselves of the aches gained from falling asleep in such awkward positions.

It’s still incredibly early in the morning, so thankfully none of them are needed for at least two more candle marks, but it’s Lancelot who breaks the silence first, clearing his throat and looking down at his best friend:

“It wouldn’t be selfish.”

Arthur looks up to him, noting the bags under everyone’s eyes and the tear tracks no one had bothered to wipe away:

“What are you talking about?”

The knight runs a hand through his hair, sniffling slightly and taking a deep breath before he stares around the room, making sure everyone was awake and paying attention as he spoke:

“For us to tell him we want him to stay, it wouldn’t be selfish. You heard him, he loves it here, he’s desperate to stay, he loves us. He still has at least thirty years worth of memories to make with us, and yeah, maybe that’s not a lot in the grand scheme of the immortal life of a God, but it’s more than the ten he’s already got. We can’t take that away from him. He... he wants to be here. Telling him to leave just to alleviate our own guilt... that would be selfish.”

Everyone looks a little doubtful, bar Mordred, and it’s him that Arthur turns to:

“Mordred? You knew... what he is, which we are still definitely going to have a conversation about by the way, what do you think?”

Mordred sighs, biting his lip for a moment before finally ripping his gaze from Merlin’s still unconscious, but now healthier looking body:

“He is more than any of us will ever be able to comprehend. You still see him as just Merlin, he is, but he’s also much more; he is Emrys, the saviour, the God, the Guiding Light. He is magic itself, woven into the fabric of the universe. He inhabits every space, and no space at the same time, he exists in every grain of sand, every drop of ocean, every speck of sky. To... to assume that he is not capable of deciding what he wants is an act of unforgivable hubris. If he stays, who are you to demand he leave and name yourselves selfish, when he has not deemed it so?”

Arthur pales slightly at Mordred’s words, as does everyone else. Gwaine seems to be taking it in his stride, and Lancelot seems less surprised than Arthur thinks he should (definitely something to question, but not right now), but before anyone can say anything, Merlin twitches, a low groan escaping his throat as his brows crease.

Everyone moves quickly, gathering around his bedside in a huddle. Morgana, Mordred, and Gwen are grateful to still be sat in their seats, and if they weren’t so busy worriedly leaning over Merlin they would be rolling their eyes at the way the others were pushing and shoving to be at the front. Gaius elbows his way to be stood by Merlin’s head, a cold compress in one hand and a grey looking potion in the other.

Morgana strokes a hand through Merlin’s hair and the frown on his face eases; he blinks his eyes open, swallowing before grimacing at the taste in his mouth and groaning again. Gwen leans over his head, smiling as she settles a hand on his warm cheek:

“Morning sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

Merlin just groans again, rubbing his shaking hands harshly into his eyes as he says, his voice dry and painful-sounding:

“Ugh. Like Arthur’s aim got miraculously better.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and flushes slightly, but before he can defend himself Merlin bolts upright, taking in a deep, ragged breath, eyes wide. Mordred focuses a concentrated expression on the side of Merlin’s head, but Arthur ignores it as he reaches forward, settling a hand on the dark-haired man’s shoulder and muttering his name:

“Merlin?”

Merlin’s breathing only gets deeper as he whips his head around to stare at Arthur. The blonde tries to smile comfortingly at him, but Merlin barely seems to notice as he scrambles back on the bed, only stopping when he comes into contact with Leon behind him.

Mordred’s face morphs into a concerned frown at Merlin’s terror, and now his tears, so instead of waiting for the man to calm down enough to let them explain, he rushes forward, grabbing the back of Merlin’s head and forcing their foreheads together before he can pull away. He shuts his eyes tightly, muttering some sort of incantation under his breath. Merlin gasps loudly and Mordred groans, holding their heads together for a few moments before collapsing back into his seat, clamping his hands over his eyes as if trying to press a headache away. Merlin slumps back against the warm body behind him, and Leon just about manages to catch him in strong arms before he falls to the floor.

This had all happened in the space of a few moments, and when the two of them still, the others unfreeze. Arthur turns on Mordred:

“What did you do?? What was that?!”

Mordred groans again, looking up blearily, first at Merlin, who seems to be in a similar state to him, leant against Leon, and then to Arthur:

“He wasn’t calming down, so I shared my memories. From when we met at the edge of the forest yesterday, to just before he woke up. It’ll take him a little longer than me to sort through them.”

Arthur nods and Morgana looks impressed, and everyone looks to Merlin again, waiting for him to pull the hands from his eyes and talk to them, look at them, anything.

He finally seems to relax his muscles and Leon rubs his hands up and down his arms softly; despite the fact that he’d been warmed by the fire, the knight was still oddly worried about Merlin being too cold. He lets out a deep breath, lowering his shaking hands as he slowly raises his teary gaze, staring at Arthur:

“You... you want me to stay?”

Arthur ignores the tears dripping down his cheeks as nods desperately, forcing a soft smile on his face as he sniffles:

“Yes. Please. We don’t want you to go, we don’t hate you.”

Merlin launches himself at Arthur and the only thing stopping The King from falling back from Merlin’s surprising weight is Percival’s hand on his back. Arthur wraps his arms tightly around Merlin’s middles, turning his head to press a kiss to the other man’s temple as he tries to get his tears under control; he completely ignores the others in favour of muttering into Merlin’s hair:

“It’s alright, Merlin. You stay here, with us, as long as you want. We... I, love you. Stay, please.”

Merlin just sobs harder, gripping the back of Arthur’s tunic as he kneels on the bed, his response stuttering and barely understandable:

“But- but I’m-”

Arthur just hushes him, stroking a hand through his hair and giving everyone else in the room pointed looks. They all crowd around Merlin again, placing comforting hands on his back and shoulders and arms and hands. Mordred whispers his adoration in Merlin’s head, and Morgana presses a kiss to the nape of his neck, all in the hopes of convincing him that the memories he had were true.

His breathing finally calms, and Arthur shuffles to the side so he can sit down next to him, not daring to remove the arms from around his neck or push him away. Merlin pulls away himself when Arthur settles, but doesn’t move far, and there’s no space between them as he hastily wipes the tears from his face, staring at him lap, cheeks flushed. Arthur takes his hand slowly in his, but Merlin still doesn’t look up, so Morgana kneels in front of him, placing her hand on his knee softly and saying with a teasing smirk on her face:

“You know, if I’d known that my teacher was The God of Magic, I might’ve complained less at the studying you make me do.”

Merlin finally looks up at her, a weak smile on his face, and Morgana winks at him. It’s Gwaine who tries next, settling on Merlin’s other side and sighing loudly:

“Forget the God thing do you know how many pranks we could’ve pulled if you’d told me you had magic?? Can’t believe you’d take that opportunity from me, all of you.”

He gives Mordred and Morgana jokingly offended glares and they roll their eyes, though their attention is quickly drawn back to Merlin, whose hands are clenching tightly in his lap. The room goes dark all of a sudden, and a glance to the window would tell them that the clear morning was suddenly overcast, thunder rumbling in the distance as rain slammed against the glass. Arthur squeezes Merlin’s hand and quickly, though gently, shoves Morgana out of the way, kneeling in front of Merlin and lifting his chin with his free hand:

“It’s fine, Merlin. We’ve all got a ton of questions but everything’s going to be alright, I swear. In fact, I’m glad we found out, it was cruel of us to make you live in a kingdom where you aren’t accepted, but that changes now, I promise.”

Merlin stands suddenly and walks between them, taking a deep breath before turning suddenly a scowl on his face:

“It wasn’t her choice to make, it was mine, and she took it from me.-”

With every harsh the thunder grew closer and the glass in the window frame shook more violently:

“-I was going to tell you after you changed your mind about magic because it had to come from the heart. You can’t change the Kingdom just for my sake! I wanted to do it properly and she took that from me because she was bored!”

Everyone rushes to say something in an effort to calm him down, both for the safety of the windows and his happiness, but Arthur’s blunt-

“Why?”

-stops them in their tracks. Merlin looks to him sharply, though Arthur is grateful for the thunder quietening down as he replies:

“What do you mean why? Why what?”

Arthur huffs out a gentle laugh, shaking his head in disbelief:

“Why can’t I change the Kingdom for you? You’re important, you’ve touched so many lives in so many wonderous ways; that in itself tells me that magic isn’t evil, so why can’t I change the Kingdom for you?”

The thunder stops and the rain slows to a gentle patter as Merlin tilts his head, his scowl of anger morphing into a sad, confused frown as he responds in a small voice:

“But... I’m just a servant. You’re not doing it out of fear, so I’m still just... nobody important.”

Arthur just laughs again, walking towards Merlin and settling soft hands on his shoulders, grateful to feel the others close to his back:

“You have never once been just a servant, Merlin. Something tells me you’ve been saving my life, and this Kingdom, since the day we met, so even if it had no effect on anyone else whatsoever, I would still change the law. Because you are a good man, and you are important, and you deserve it. Compared to you, it is us, who are just human.-”

Merlin frowns again and Arthur rolls his eyes to stop him arguing:

“-Just... give me another hug, and accept it. You idiot.”

He can feel someone (probably Morgana) thump him on the back, but he doesn’t turn around, eagerly returning Merlin’s hug when the brunette wraps his arms around Arthur’s middle tightly. The King presses closer, uncaring of what his audience thinks of him for the first time in his life (probably because he has a feeling that they’ve known of his... affections, longer than even he has) and  mutters his question into Merlin’s ear:

“We... I love you, Merlin, more than anything. Will you stay with me?”

The King is vaguely aware of his First Knight whispering “I told you so, idiot.” behind him, but all he cares about is the sensation of the God, more ancient and powerful than anything he could ever comprehend, nodding into is neck.

THE END!!

I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope y’all like it!!

Link to the Dark!Merlin version (I warn you, it’s hella angsty) is at the top!! :)

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter nine rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

You were quiet in the cab ride home. Peter was talking a mile a minute and all you gave him were small smiles and fake laughs every now and then so he wouldn’t suspect anything was wrong. He was too happy about how well the evening had gone to notice.

“Do you want to come back to my apartment? You can sleep over if you want.” Peter asked with a shy smile when you got to your floor. You didn’t want to lie in bed all night with Peter when you were literally lying to Peter, so you faked a yawn and stretched a little.

“Not tonight, babe. I’m a little tired.” You lied. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay Pete?”

Peter looked a little disappointed but you knew he understood.

“Okay, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He went to kiss your lips but you turned so he only got your cheek. You pretended not to see the confusion and hurt in Peters eyes at your actions. You went into your apartment and went out the window immediately, needing to blow off some steam as Venom.

It didn’t take long to find crime, or for crime to find you. You soon heard the shrill cries of a panicked woman.

“Someone help me! He’s got my son!” She screamed. You immediately morphed into Venom and followed the sound of her voice. You climbed to the top of a tall building and scanned the city. Your eyes landed on a man running away with a small child struggling in his grasp. You jumped from the building and ran after the man at full speed. You caught up to him easily and blocked his path. You shot a web at the child and yanked him out of the mans grasp. At that moment, Spider-Man jumped down from the sky and landed between you and the man.

“Hold this.” You demanded and handed the child to Spider-Man. Spider-Man took the child and looked at you, the eyes on his mask squinting in confusion.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked as he bounced the child on his hip.

“Eat.” Venom said simply before bolting after the kidnapper who had took off running.

“Find the mom and get him to safety.” Venom called back to Spider-Man.

When you tracked the man down, you snatched the man up and suspended him in the air. Venom quickly swallowed him whole and fled the scene.

You found the mother just in time to see Spider-Man reuniting her with her child.

“Here you go ma’am.” He said kindly. The mother took her child and smiled at him gratefully.

“Thank you Spider-Man. I don’t know how you do it. You’re a hero.” The mom praised. Spider-Man laughed softly.

“I do my best. Stay safe.” Spider-Man waved kindly. The mother thanked him again and left with her son. Spider-Man turned to walk away as well but you stopped him.

“What the hell was that?” You roared. “You just took all the credit for saving that kid. You didn’t even do anything. We saved the kid, we killed the man, you were just the delivery boy. Why didn’t you tell the mom that we helped?” Spider-Man looked as taken aback as a man in a mask could look. Granted, your Y/n was showing. You were speaking in your Venom voice but it was really you talking, and Spider-Man seemed to notice the difference.

“Oh. I’m-I’m sorry. It’s just, you’re kinda scary and the kid was already super freaked out. I didn’t want to make it worse by him seeing you.” Spider-Man answered. He didn’t mean to offend you but his words hurt.

“We’re not scary. We saved that boy.” You said in defense.

“Yeah but, you’re honestly terrifying man.” Spider man laughed awkwardly. “Even I’m scared. A little kid wouldn’t want to see a hideous monster right after nearly being kidnapped. No offense.”

It almost seemed like he was trying to compliment you. Venom was much more hurt by his words than you were. At the end of the day, you could look like a regular person while Venom was stuck looking like a “hideous monster.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” You shouted in your own voice. Spider-Man looked around for who the new voice came from. 

“Did that come from you?” He asked.

“It came from us.” You said, back to the low Venom growl.

“See it’s things like that that make you terrifying.” Spiderman continued. “That kid would’ve wet his pants if he saw you. I’m a nice, friendly face that people can trust. Really, no offense dude, but no one wants to see your face.”

You took a menacing step towards him and roared. He backed up instantly and held up his arms in defense.

“Woah woah woah please don’t put your eggs in me!” He shrieked. “I’m just stating the facts. You will never be a hero, if that what’s you’re going for. New York isn’t going to feel safe with a monster like you on the streets. If I told that mom that you were the one to save her kid, she would’ve ran straight to the cops. It might be better if you just went back to the planet you came from.”

He was trying something new. He knew he couldn’t physically beat Venom in a fight, so he tried using his words instead. His girlfriend was so good with words and he wanted to make her proud. All he knew was, he needed Venom out of the city.

“You’re wrong. We’re not a monster.” Venom growled. You just stayed silent.

“Fine. Monster. Alien. Whatever you want to be called, it doesn’t matter.” Spiderman waved his hand. “Because all anyone will call you is dangerous, scary, and a threat. You’re better off leaving earth and never coming back.”

“We’re not leaving.” Venom snarled.

“What’s with the we? Who else is in there?” Spider-Man asked. He reached out to touch you and you threw him against a building.

“Don’t touch us. Our host is in here.” Venom growled. Spider-Man tilted his head.

“Host? So you’re like a parasite?” He asked innocently. Innocent or not, it was the wrong question to ask. Venom picked Spider-Man up by his neck again and dangled him in the air. Spider-Man kicked his legs and tried to break free but couldn’t.

“First, you take credit for our work, then you insult us, and now you call us a parasite? We are not a parasite. We are Venom. And you are dead.” Venom sneered. Venom was too angry to listen to what Mr. Stark said about not eating Spider-Man. He had pushed you too far.

Venom ripped Spider-Mans mask off, wanting to see his identity before you killed him. To your devastating surprise, your terrified boyfriends face stared back at you. He had a bloody nose from being thrown against the wall and his face was red from lack of oxygen. He whispered pleas for mercy as his eyes begged you to let him go. You gasped and immediately dropped Peter onto the ground, looking around frantically for what to do next. He coughed and sputtered for a while while he rubbed his aching neck.

When he looked up, Venom was handing him his mask back with an apologetic look on your big white eyes. Peter shakily took the mask and nodded in thanks. You nodded back and ran as fast as you could back to your apartment. You climbed into your window, transformed back into yourself, and went to throw up in the bathroom.

Peter was Spider-Man. Peter was Spider-Man. And you were Venom. How could it be? How could fate be so cruel? And yet, it made perfect sense. He fit the description. College student from New York who traveled to Washington D.C. at the time of the elevator incident. It explained everything, from the first aid kit on Peters desk, to the constant phone calls, to Ned asking if you knew about Peter, and of course, Mr. Stark. The Stark Internship was being Spider-Man. You should’ve known. The signs were all there. But a part of you just wanted something good for once. Something that the rest of the world couldn’t touch. That something had been Peter. And now, you had to give him up.

You ignored Peters calls and texts for the next six days. You gave him a lame excuse about needed to stay focused on your Cletus Kasady article and so you couldn’t be on your phone. You had a week to tell him you were Venom, according to Mr. Stark. That week was almost up and you had spent it successfully avoiding Peter. You stayed in your apartment as often as you could and only left out the window when you had to go somewhere. Peters texts increasingly got harder and harder to ignore. You didn’t want to ignore his sweet good morning and goodnight texts or science puns, but you couldn’t face him. You just wanted to shake him and ask him why he kept something so big a secret from you. But alas, you said nothing.

On the sixth day of avoiding Peter, you knew you had to go out. You didn’t want to use the front door but you desperately needed to check your mail and it was pouring rain outside. You peered out your peephole and saw no signs of Peter. You quickly opened your door and didn’t even make it two steps before you heard the sound of Peters door opening. Running would be a bad option, right? You slowly turned around and gave Peter and awkward smile. He didn’t smile back.

“You’re avoiding me.” He stated. His voice wasn’t it’s usually happy tone. He sounded hurt and confused. You knew he had every reason to be, but you were hurt and confused too.

“I’m not. I told you I had to write my article.” You lied through your teeth. He didn’t buy it.

“Bullshit.” He scoffed. “I know you haven’t had your final interview with him. It’s in two days, right? How could you be finishing your article when you’re not even done with the interviews?”

You gulped. He saw right through your lies.

“Are you mad at me?” His tone changed as his voice weakened. “Did I do something wrong?”

Your heart broke. You wanted to hug him and tell him he didn’t do anything wrong, but you couldn’t. He’d been lying to you as long as you knew him. You couldn’t just forgive him and pretend you didn’t know he was Spider-Man.

“No.” You said quietly, suddenly taking extreme interest in your shoes. “No, Petey, I’m not mad.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?” His voice cracked and your heart cracked with it. You looked down and shook your head, wishing you had an answer to give him. You looked around before stepping forward and pulling him into a tearful kiss. You let in longer in case it was the last kiss you ever shared with him He kissed you back but you felt his hesitation. His guard was up and you knew why.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed once you pulled away. “I can’t explain. I have to go, Peter. I’m sorry.”

You hated yourself for saying it, he deserved so much better. Peter looked like he was about to cry, confusion clouding his brown eyes. You turned away from him, unable to watch his heart breaking in front of you.

“Is this it?” His voice was quiet. “Are we over?”

“I think we are.” You said without turning around.

“Why the hell did you say that?” You thought. It’s not what you meant. You looked at Peter over your shoulder in time to see a tear run down his cheek. You went to turn back around but Peter grabbed your hand suddenly and pulled you towards the stairs. You didn’t resist and let him tug you, feeling like you owed him as much. You find it slightly ironic know that you knew why he was so strong.

Peter pulled you all the way to the roof, back to the very spot you once referred to as “ours.” He let go of your hand and pointed to the ledge, looking at you with weary eyes.

“Tell me it was all fake. Tell me it was all in my head and we weren’t happy together on that ledge. Tell me I made it all up and you were never as into me as I was into you. Tell me our first kiss, our first time, our first conversation meant nothing to you. Tell me you hate me and feel nothing for me.” He shouted before quieting down. “Because unless you tell me that, I won’t let you end this without giving me a reason. I won’t let you just walk away. Please, don’t end what we have just because you’re scared. You don’t have to be afraid. Not of me.”

“I know.” You whispered. “But you should be afraid of me. In fact, you already are.”

“What?” Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “Afraid—what?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Peter. Or of this. Of us. That’s not it.” You told him truthfully. “I’m afraid of what will happen when you find out I’m not who you think I am. I’m far worse.”

“What are you talking about? I do know you.” He insisted.

“You don’t.” You shook your head as tears fell from your eyes. “You do but you don’t.”

“Then who are you?”

“I’m a monster. We-“ you were cut off by the sounds of people screaming from the street below. Peter looked at you before running to the edge to peer down.

“Something’s attacking the city.” He called back to you. “It looks like a red version of Venom.”

“A red symbiote?” ,you thought, “how can that be?”

Peter turned and looked at you, not wanting to pull out his Spider-Man suit in front of you. Of course, he didn’t know that you were already well aware of his secret.

With the city under attack, your fight with Peter was going to wait. You wiped the tears from your face and walked past Peter, your shoulders brushing as you moved past him. You stared over the edge at the commotion, knowing you were the only one who could give the symbiote a fair fight. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked over your shoulder at Peter, giving him a silent apology.

“I love you, Peter.” You said suddenly, never breaking eye contact. “I love you.”

With that, you jumped off the roof and turned into Venom in mid air. You landed on the ground below and roared at the red symbiote. You knew you had to focus on the fight, but your mind was goign a million miles an hour.

It was the first time you’d ever said those words to Peter, despite feeling them from the moment you met. He was the second boy you ever said those words to, but the first boy where you actually meant it.

You shook your head to free yourself from your thoughts and let out another roar.

“Venom!” The red symbiote smiled. “So glad you could make it! Where’s your friend huh? Is she too scared to come out and say hello to Carnage?”

“Carnage?” You wondered. Since when was there another symbiote on earth and more importantly, how did it know who you were?

You wasted no time in launching yourself at Carnage and attacking. You two wrestled for dominance for a while until Carnage ultimately won. He began to pull Venom off your body and you felt your face became uncovered. Carnage raised his razor sharp fingernails and prepared to slit your throat with his long nails.

“Heads up!” Spider-Man came swinging down and kicked Carnage off of you before he could harm you. You quickly bonded back with Venom and stood up, just in time to see Carnage throwing Peter across the street. You ran to him and helped him up.

“Shoot your web at the same time we do, okay?” You said and held out your wrist. Peter did the same and you both shot a web at the fast approaching Carnage. The combination of your webs was enough to capture Carnage and send him crashing to the floor. He soon broke out of his webbing and began running towards you again.

“Karen! Web grenade!” Peter yelled. He threw a web ball at Carnage and it blew up in the red symbiotes face. While he was distracted, you pulled the symbiote from its host by the ankles. Enough skin of the host was showing for you to take a bite. Carnage yelled in pain and turned to his closest attacker, which happened to be Peter. He picked Peter up and repeatedly slammed him into the pavement. To stop this, you tackled Carnage and spit acid spit in his eyes. Carnage howled and began to run away.

“I’ll be back, Venom.” He snarled. “And when I return, there’s gonna be Carnage.”

You ignored his threat and quickly ran to your unconscious boyfriend, kneeling down beside him. After checking to see that no one was around, you took off his mask and accessed his injuries. His face was beaten pretty badly and his pulse was weak. You transformed back into yourself and took off your hoodie and shirt, leaving you in a sports bra and leggings. You ran your hands over Peters body until you found a way to take the suit off, it was by pressing the spider on the chest. You tore up your shirt and pressed it to the large wound on Peters chest to stop the bleeding. You suddenly got an idea and pressed a hand to his chest, letting Venom go inside him and move around. Venoms healing abilities made the cuts on Peters chest disappear, but he was still knocked out. You pulled your hand away and slipped the hoodie around his body before picking him up with ease. He was adorably light. You quickly ran into the apartment building and went to his room before anyone could see you.

Peter came to about a half hour later just as you were finishing up healing his cuts. You had managed to bathe him and get him into a fresh pair of comfy clothes while his body healed.

Peter slowly woke up and noticed you were straddling his lap. After nearly a week of no contact with you, it felt nice. He missed the way your skin felt on his. He almost jumped out of his seat when he saw his Spider-Man suit hanging up in the closet where you could easily see it.

“Relax. I already know you’re Spider-Man.” You cooed as you put some Neosporin on his busted eyebrow. Peter relaxed under you for a moment as he took in his situation.

“And you’re not mad?” He asked quietly. You were surprisingly calm considering the circumstances.

“I’m not mad.” You smiled softly at him. “Venom is a little offended that you called her ugly though.”

“You’re Venom.” Peter said as he remembered seeing you jump off the building and transforming into the alien before his eyes. It made sense. The “We” was in reference to you. And you had saved his life the first night you met when Venom wanted to eat him. He just couldn’t believe his girlfriend was his arch nemesis this whole time.

“I am. Well, we are. Venom, say hi.” You turned to your left and watched as Venom shyly came out in her snake-like form to greet

“Hi.” Venom hissed.

“Hey.” Peter said back with a tiny bit a fear. He looked at you for reassurance and you nodded.

“You’re no panty dropper yourself, by the way.” Venom grumbled.

“Hey! Be nice or go back inside.” You scolded. Venom chose the later and went back inside.

“Are you mad?” You asked timidly, making him think about it.

“Not mad. Just confused.” He decided. “Is this why you were avoiding me? Because you saw my identity the night we ate dinner with Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah.” You admitted with guilt. “He told me I had a week to tell you. Today’s only day six so he’s gonna be thrilled.”

“He knows?” Peters eyes widened in surprise.

“Yes.” You confessed. “But he knew I was Venom before he knew I was your girlfriend.”

“That’s great news. Then I don’t have to explain anything to him.” Peter looked on the bright side. “Plus, he loves you. Speaking of love…”

Peter put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a passionate, tear filled kiss. You wrapped your hand around his wrist and kissed him deeply, one last time. You slowly pulled apart and you bit your quivering lip.

“We have to break up.” You whispered before pulling your hands away from him.

“What? Why?” Peter asked in shock.

“Look at us Peter. Look what’s become of us.” Your voice wavered. “How can we ever be together when you’re Spider-Man and I’m Venom? We didn’t tell each other these huge things about our lives and we hurt each other because of it. Tell me, do you honestly think I’d ever lay a hand on you?”

“No.” Peter answered. He knew you didn’t have a malicious bone in your body.

“Exactly. I wouldn’t. And yet, I beat you to the point where you couldn’t even stand.” You began to cry from shame. “I should be protecting you, not hurting you.”

“But you didn’t know it was me.” Peter pointed out.

“Exactly Peter! I didn’t know it was you because you didn’t tell me!” You exclaimed. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you. But in my defense, I’ve never told anyone I was Spider-Man. May, Ned, Mr. Stark, they all found out on their own. You were the first person I was actually going to tell willingly. I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.” He sighed, and you believed him. “And what about you? You didn’t tell me you were Venom.” .

“It’s different, Peter.” You shook your head. “Venom isn’t a friendly neighborhood superhero. People see you and the run to you for help. But Peter, I’m what they’re running from. You said it yourself. I’m a hideous monster. I had a reason to hide who I was.”

Peter looked hurt at his own words. He cringed at the memory of insulting you so many times. He couldn’t imagine how it felt to hear that from your own boyfriend.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I said that about Venom, not you. I never would’ve said it if I had known.” Peter said softly, while reaching up to stroke your cheek. You wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch and forget the whole thing.

“That’s the point.” You moved his hand away. “We both would’ve done things differently if we had known. But we didn’t. And that’s why we need to breakup. Before we hurt each other any more.”

“Y/n, please.” Peter’s lips began to tremble. You couldn’t even look at him, not when you knew how much you were hurting him. You knew you’d take one took at his tear filled eyes and run right back into his arms. You had to be strong. You got up off his lap and headed towards the door before you lost your nerve.

“I’m sorry, Peter.” You said with your back to him. “We’re just on different paths. I’m so sorry.”

“Well what if I give up being Spider-Man?” Peter bartered. You looked at him over your shoulder in bewilderment.

“You’d give that up for me?”

“Anything for you.” He said confidently.

“I can’t ask you to do that. And what about Mr. Stark? You’re just gonna give up your mentor to be with me?” You asked him, hoping to knock some sense into him.

“Nothing means anything if I don’t have you.” Peter shot back. He was making it so difficult. You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at him for how he was acting.

“You’re not throwing your life away for me.” You shook your head sternly. “I won’t allow it.”

“Well what if you give up Venom?” He suggested.

Venom jumped out and growled at Peter. He stumbled back and you held Venom back like a dog on a leash.

“She would never choose you over us, Spider-Man.” Venom snarled. “We’ve been with Y/n much longer than you have. We’ve dried her tears. We’ve kept her safe. What have you done? Y/n and I are inseparable by choice. I’m inside her. She’s mine.”

“Yea, well, I’ve been inside her too.” Peter shot back with faltering confidence. Your eyes widened at the two of them.

“Both of you, stop it.” You commanded. “This argument is over. I’m sorry, Peter. I’ll never be sorry enough. But I have to go.”

“Where are you going?” He panicked as you went for the door again.

“Home.” you answered, avoiding his gaze. 

“This is your home.” He protested. “Here, with me.”

“Not anymore.” You finally looked at him. “I’m going back to San Francisco. I booked the flight while you were knocked out and it leaves in the morning. I can’t be here anymore, Peter. I can’t see you everyday and not want to be with you.”

“Then be with me.” Peter practically yelled.

“We can’t be together. I knew it from the start.” You wiped your face when you remembered your breakdown in your car that one day.

“Y/n, please.” Peter gently took your arm, making you look at him. “Don’t go. I need you. You never even gave me a chance to say it back.”

In the midst of all the chaos and drama, you’d forgotten that you told Peter you loved him. A part of you was glad you finally got to say it, but the bigger part of you ached knowing you’d never hear it back.

“Don’t say it.” You put a half over his mouth for a moment. “Please, just, don’t say it. It’ll be too painful for the both of us. Just let me go. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. You and I not being together will never be okay.” Peter cried, leaving his sweet brown eyes a miserable red.

“Peter…” you breathed, hardly able to take it.

“Please don’t leave me. Everyone else has left me. And you’ve never been like everyone else.” Peter gave one last attempt to make you stay. You looked at him in his entirety. You took him all in. His wavy hair, his doe eyes, his slightly crooked nose and his eyebrow that stood all the way up. All the things you first fell in love with that day you knocked on his door to give him his mail. That seemed that a million years back but it was really only a few months. Your heart broke at the sight of Peter, as beautiful as ever, standing before with a broken heart. And even worse, you were the one that broke it.

“Stay.” His voice was barely above a whisper but he could see you beginning to weaken. He took his opportunity to beg to reconsider. A little gleam of hope bubbled in Peters chest. You stood up straighter, cleared your throat, and tore your eyes away from your ex-boyfriend.

“Peter Parker, I will love you until my lungs are empty. But I cannot stay.” You said firmly. Just like that, his hope was gone. Before he could say anything else, you ran out his bedroom door, through his kitchen, and out the front door. You locked your door behind you and climbed into bed, crying at the loss of your teenage love. You knew Peter could hear every tear that fell with his heightened hearing, so you whispered heartfelt apologies and hoped he’d find a way to forgive you.

[lesbobiwan]

Congrats on 100! 🥳 I was wondering if I could request #100 and Wolffe 💕

thank u so much for the request!!!

#100: "Call me selfish, but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you." + Wolffe

warnings: kinda public sex. you dont fuck in front of anyone but its kinda close, jealous sex, clothed sex, creampies

You could think of a million different things you'd rather be doing right now.

You'd rather clean the barrack bathrooms after the boys don't have the heart to turn down Plo's well-meaning attempt at cooking. You'd rather be dropped off on an abandoned planet and be told to find a way off. You'd rather be getting shot at by fucking Seppies.

But, no. You're here in this ridiculous dress for some party thrown in the name of the GAR's brave and selfless troopers.

What a load of shit.

As if any of those senators give a shit about any of these men aside from how a picture of them shaking hands will boost their approval ratings.

You know you were invited as a deliberate political move. As the only volunteer nat-born medic for the 104th, you make the war easier to look at.

Look, Senators will say while they point to you, we don't rely solely on the creation of clones who are made to fight and die for a war they have no choice in! We have regular people involved in the war too!

Again. What a load of shit.

It's sickening the way that these politicians will pretend to care about the well-being of the soldiers who fight and die for them when it will make them look good. These people, if you can even call them that, don't know what it's like on the front lines.

You can barely understand what it's like on the frontlines, but you see the aftermath. You see the shell-shocked shinies and the trembling hands of even the most veteran trooper after a battle gone wrong.

Politicians are a disease, you think to yourself, and the sooner you can get out of this ridiculous dress the better.

The only benefit to this is the free champagne and the way Wolffe acts as a deterrent to any smart Senator or politician that comes your way.

Dressed to impress in a sharp gray suit, Wolffe cuts an imposing figure next to you. The tight suit jacket makes his already broad shoulders look impossibly broader and the buttons of his dress shirt strain against the muscles of his chest.

Your dress seems to compliment Wolffe in every way. Your dress is mainly white, but the gray accents serve as a subtle call to Wolffe's suit. Claiming you as his, you like to think. The same designs etched into the cuffs and collar of Wolffe's suit jacket are present at the bottom of your dress, circling the hem before fading as you look higher up the dress.

You think you'd enjoy the night if it wasn't for the Senate's... everything. You may be in a war, but you enjoy looking and feeling pretty. You think you'd feel very pretty if the meaning of the night didn't make you feel sick to your stomach.

With the commander acting as your shadow for the night, you've had little trouble keeping pesky Senators looking for a quick fuck away from you.

At least... the smart ones.

"As I was saying, my father is one of the main beneficiaries of the GAR," the boy — and truly he isn't enough to call a man — prattles on in front of you, totally oblivious to your uninterested expression and the clone commander hovering over your shoulder. You think he might be a senatorial aide and his father might be the Senator?

You wonder if you should adjust the plunging neckline of the dress so that the hickey Wolffe left behind last night peeks into eyesight.

"And I tell him that he shouldn't waste our family money on this war. Honestly, there's no need for clones," he continues, eyes flickering to Wolffe before he turns back to you, "I mean, what could clones possibly provide that a real man can't?"

He leans towards you, and with his last few words he drags his knuckles lightly up your arm. A smile that he must think is charming slithers onto his face as he continues to caress your crawling skin.

"Better company, for one," you mumble into your champagne glass before you can cause a scene. You drain the rest of the drink before you say something stupid.

You don't think you muffle it well enough because Wolffe's shoulders shake in muffled laughter behind you.

"Would you like to dance?" The aide blurts out, and once caressing fingers turn into a greedy grabbing hand closing around your wrist.

Wolffe stiffens behind you, jolting against your back before stopping himself.

Your face morphs into one of distain before you can stop it, "Actually," you begin, yanking your wrist from a sweaty palm, "I promised Commander Wolffe my first dance," your smile is so obviously fake it's painful, but the aide doesn't seem to notice.

"Well, maybe after you're done with the trooper, we can —"

"It's Commander," Wolffe finally speaks up, and his gravely voice has goosebumps spreading across your skin.

"Excuse me?"

Wolffe's hand splays across the small of your back as he steps beside you, "I said, it's commander," he repeats, voice cold like stone. Fuck, it makes your thighs rub together beneath your dress.

The aide's nose scrunches up, "Yes, well, when you're done with the commander, maybe you'll come my way?"

What is it with men not taking a hint?

"No, I don't think so," Wolffe answers for you before the hand on your back shifts from just a grounding touch to a guiding one, and he's leading you away.

Your skin is alight with excitement. You look up at the commander, whose jaw in clenched in obvious irritation. It makes you feel guilty, but Wolffe looks extremely attractive when he's pissed.

"Wolffe, we just passed the dance floor," you whisper as he rushes you past the chunk of the room marked out for couples to hold each other close and sway to the music.

"I know," Wolffe says shortly, leading you to the nearest exit so fast that you nearly fall out of your impractical shoes.

He practically drags you out the door and into one of the hallways you know you aren't allowed to be in.

"Wolffe, where are we — Oh!"

The commander cages you against the wall, hands on either side of your head as his hips press flush to yours through your dress. You can feel the bulge of his cock even through the layers of your clothes.

He breathes in deep through his nose before he speaks, "You're mine, you know that, right?" he rocks his hips against you as he speaks, and you don't get the best friction through the poofiness of your dress, but it's his words that make your thighs clench.

"Yes," you whisper into the space between you, "only yours, Wolffe,"

And it's true. You are Wolffe's no matter the setting — battlefield or ballroom — and no matter the outfits — hard plastoid armor or dashing suits and dresses.

Wolffe stares down at you, breathing hard through his mouth, searching for something in your face before he leans down to crush your lips together.

He kisses you like he's fighting. It's vicious and he tugs your bottom lip between his teeth until you whine, and it's only then that he lets it go. "Call me selfish," he whispers in your ear before he flips you around so that your face is pressed flush with the wall, "but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you."

Wolffe's hands are desperate as he begins to wrench the layers of your dress up and up until it's all bunched up above your hips, leaving your lower half exposed to him.

He inhales sharply at the sight of the lingerie the women who helped you into the dress had given you.

You never know whose going to unwrap you by the end of the night, one of the women had whispered like a secret to you.

But that wasn't true. You knew exactly who was going to unwrap you.

"Fuck," Wolffe hisses, dragging one of his hands across the delicate lace that covers your ass. "You wear this just for me?"

You pant against the wall, hands scrambling for purchase as Wolffe leans down to bite the meat of your ass. "Shit!" you gasp, just a bit too loud for comfort.

Wolffe drags his teeth down the curve of your ass, nosing at the wet patch of your panties. "How long have you been this wet, pretty girl?" he demands, pressing the tips of his fingers against the wet lace over your clit.

Your hips jerk against him. It's exhilarating to thing that only one door and a left turn separates a room full of Senators and Very Important People from the two of you.

It's filthy what you're doing. You're sure if anyone were to see you — pressed face first into a wall with little regard for the makeup that was applied to you with more caution than one treats a bomb and your expensive dress hiked up around your waist to expose your soaking cunt, you'd single-handedly ruin all efforts to draw support for the GAR.

"Answer me," Wolffe spits out as he drags your panties down your ass to let them fall around your ankles. One broad hand swats at your ass, right over the pulsing bite mark he left behind.

"All night!" you sob into the wall, biting your hand to muffle the groans you want to let out. "As soon as I saw you in that suit!"

A part of you wishes Wolffe would turn you back around. You want to see him in that suit — want to watch his muscles bunch and flex beneath the delicate fabric.

Wolffe's huff of laughter blows a puff of hot air against your cunt, making you clench around nothing. "You like me in this suit, sweet thing?" He raises to his feet and you can hear his hands fumbling with his belt and zipper. "Well, I'm about to fuck you in it,"

You whimper into the back of your hand. Your own slick starts to drip down your leg. "Please."

The blunt head of Wolffe's cock presses against your entrance. Usually he would make you cum at least once before he fucks you just to get you ready for his girth, but in this moment you couldn't care less.

You want Wolffe to fuck you, and you want to feel the stretch. You want him to fuck the feeling of that grimy aide touching you out of your head.

"S'that what you want?" Wolffe breathes as he starts to slide in, "you want to forget that boy? Huh? You want to be fucked by a man?"

A keen catches in your throat as he sinks in halfway. Fuck, you feel like you're being split in half. His cock just keeps going and going in this position, and all you can do is take it.

You bite down hard into the back of your hand as Wolffe finally bottoms out, but Wolffe grabs your hair, fancy curls and accessories be damned, and pulls your mouth away from your hand.

"Don't you dare," he hisses as his hips set a deafening pace. "Don't you dare hide your noises from me. I want to hear you — I want them to hear you."

Your moan echoes through the hallway.

There's something feral in the way that Wolffe fucks you. With his suit still on, totally presentable besides the cock that's been pulled out of the fly, he's beautiful.

You, on the other hand, look filthy. Your eye makeup is smudged with the tears that Wolffe forces out of you, and you know your hair will be a lost cause by the end of this. Your dress is already wrinkling and your delicate stockings are ruined with the slick that drips down your legs from your cunt.

"Wolffe!" you cry out as pressure in your core tightens.

"'m gonna cum," Wolffe grunts, hips pistoning even faster.

He's ruining you, you think through the haze of pleasure. He's ruining you and you love it.

"Please," you sob, one of your hands leaving the wall to grab at his hips. You almost can't hold on due to the force and speed of his thrusts, but your fingers claw into the fabric of his jacket and you hold on for dear life as he brings you closer and closer to release.

"I think I'll come in this tight little cunt, what do you think?" Wolffe drags the blunt edge of his teeth along your neck and up your jawline, ending just under your ear, "Stuff you full of me, and send you back into that ballroom,"

You clench at the thought. Fuck, you want that so bad.

You're nearly incoherent with pleasure. You're just babbling in agreement to the filth that drips from Wolffe's mouth like the slick that drips from your cunt.

"You like that?" Wolffe asks even though he knows the answer, "You want me to send you in there smelling like sex and dripping my cum?"

One of his hands snake around to circle mercilessly around your clit. The pressure nearly has your knees give out.

"I think I'll keep your panties with me," Wolffe whispers in your ear, "so I'll drip out of that pretty cunt and down your thighs for the rest of the night."

The pressure in your core snaps and you cum around him with a wail.

Wolffe clamps a hand over your mouth as his thrusts turn more into grinds. His teeth sink into your neck as he finally spills inside you.

The feeling of his cum flooding your cunt has you clenching around him even more.

"Fuck," Wolffe hisses, fucking his cum into your spent cunt with an obscene squelch. "Fuck, you're so tight, pretty girl,"

You moan faintly, thighs trembling as he finally pulls out. A gush of his cum starts to drip out. You clench weakly, trying your best to keep it in.

Wolffe presses a kiss to the back of your neck, "Step out of your panties, sweet thing," he whispers into your skin, hands on your hips to steady you as you do what he asked.

You stand on coltish legs, wobbling in your heels with the aftermath of your orgasm, as Wolffe bends down to grab your ruined panties and stuff them in his pockets.

They ruin the line of his suit, and anyone who looks at him for more than half a second will know he's got something in his pocket that shouldn't be there, but you think no one will be looking at him when you're there.

Not with your hair a mess and mascara smeared just so around your eyes. Not when you reek of sex and sweat and there are bite marks littered across your skin. Not when your dress is so obviously wrinkled due to less-than-appropriate events.

Still, you walk back into the ballroom with your arm linked with Wolffe's and his cum sliding down your thigh and soaking into your stockings.

The senatorial aide doesn't bother you for the rest of the night, but that might have something to do with the clone commander flashing him a bit of lace from his jacket pocket.

When you get back to the barracks, Wolffe fucks you with those same ruined panties in your mouth to make sure none of the boys hear you two.

[cjsinkythoughts]

FATWS One Shot #5 - Reminiscing

Word Count: 1195

Warnings: Mention of The Fall, Cursing, Teasing, Fluff, Not Much Else

Setting/Characters: Takes place before they moved to D.C., so before Stars, Stripes, and Bubbles and CA:TWS; In New York City; Reader, Steve Rogers

A/N: I didn’t post any writing today so I whipped this up because I wanted to at least put a dent in the One Shot list. I know it’s a bit out of order, but I got this request and I wanted to make it separate from the movie scenes because I felt like Steve would’ve told her this before. They also hadn’t visited the museum yet, obviously, or else she’d know about him already. It’s just a cute little thing about the good ole days. It’s a bit shorter, but there wasn’t much more to add and I like it the way it is.

I’ll try posting more this week; I’m babysitting my little cousin tomorrow and Tuesday, but I’m off work Wednesday, so I’ll be able to write more then. The next One Shot is already being worked on; it’s back in order so it’s gonna take place during TWS. I have to update the One Shot list to accommodate the ideas brainstormed between myself, a couple friends, and you lovely readers.

This isn’t beta’d, as usual, so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Enjoy this one, thank you for reading, and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

You let out a wolf whistle, leaning on the back of Steve’s chair. “Who is that? He’s pretty cute. You know, for someone from a hundred years ago.”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes at you with a smile on his lips. It fell when he looked back down at the black and white picture that was fraying at the ends and had a tint to it from the time it’s spent on the earth. The young man you were pointing at, probably mid-20s if you had to guess, was grinning at the camera, looking sharp in an Army uniform, hat tilted on his head.

“That’s…Bucky.”

“Bucky?” You snickered, but then you caught sight of the far off look in Steve’s eye and found yourself frowning. “Who was he?”

“He was…” Steve sighed, leaning back into the chair, his head falling back onto your forearm. “He was my best friend.”

You set your chin on his shoulder, looking at another picture, yellowing with time. He was in that one too, over to the side with a cigarette in his mouth, his arm around two other soldiers, dark hair slicked back. You had heard about the Howling Commandos, who you were guessing were the other guys in the photo. Everyone learned about them in history class in grade school. Captain America and his Commandos fighting against HYDRA, beating the Nazis and saving the day. “Did you meet in Italy?”

“No.” Steve shook his head, carefully setting down the beat up picture. “We…we met when we were kids. We grew up together. In Brooklyn.”

Humming, you studied him, noting the tightened jaw and the crease in his brow, you looked down and tilted your head, spotting another picture of the two of them smiling. Tracing it gently, you tenderly inquired, “he meant a lot to you?”

“He was my brother. He was always there for me. At my lowest, he held me up. I never was truly alone. I always had him.”

You could hear the grief in his voice as he spoke in adoration about the man, frozen in time with a smile on his face in a frame to protect him from fading. “What happened?” You asked softly, running your fingers through Steve’s gold locks that were falling in his eyes.

Steve gave a heavy sigh, closing his eyes. “A mission went sideways. To catch Zola?” He looked up at you to see if you had read about that particular operation of theirs in a file somewhere. You nodded, remembering vaguely the mission he was talking about.

“A train in the Alps, right? I thought you caught him, though.”

The man nodded, sad eyes avoiding your gaze. “We did. But…we were ambushed. Bucky…Bucky and I were separated. I tried to get to him…I couldn’t-” He stopped talking, closing his eyes to compose himself. “He fell and I couldn’t reach him in time.”

“Steve…” you shook your head, scratching that spot at the nape of his neck you knew helped him relax. “It wasn’t your fault, bubs.” He opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it and nodded. “May I?”

He nodded again when you gestured to the box he had on the desk in front of him, letting you look through the other pictures he had. “Tell me about him.”

The blonde gave a little chuckle, smiling fondly at the memories spinning around in his brain. “He was a jerk. He always tried to keep my outta trouble. We met after some kids tried stealing my lunch money. I-I kinda tried fighting them. He beat ‘em up for me.”

“You never did like bullies.”

He grinned at you. “No…no I didn’t. There was this one time…”

You leaned your cheek against his shoulder and watched his face light up as he told you stories about him and Bucky being boys. Playing in the mud, racing through Central Park, going to Coney Island, eating ice cream, sitting on the fire escape. 

“He used to read to me. A lot. When I got sick and stuff. He liked reading. He told me it was his way of taking me somewhere without getting outta bed. I used to draw him scenes from his favorite books while listening. It gave me something to do with my hands. That’s why I picked it up. I could do it from bed.”

“Did he draw too?”

“Hell no! Pal could barely draw a stick figure! I made him take this art class with me and all he did was mope about it because it was the only class he had trouble in. But it was our agreement; he could take me to the gym he went to if he came with me to class.”

You giggled at the image of scrawny little Steve in a gym. “You went to a gym?”

He gave you a bemused look. “You’re not funny. Yes I went to a gym. I didn’t do much. Bucky trained a lot though. He was the YMCA welterweight champion three years in a row.”

“No kidding.” You picked up a picture of Bucky sitting on a couple steps, a t-shirt tucked into pants being held up by suspenders. “Look at those arms.”

“Shuddup!” Steve laughed, pushing you playfully. 

You sniggered. “I’m just saying. I bet he got all the ladies.”

“Are you kidding? Dames lined up at the door to dance with him. You would’ve too,” he poked your side. “If you lived back then.”

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “He’s cute, but I’d much rather watch you draw.”

Steve snorted. “Trust me. You’d be singing a different tune if you met him. You would’ve liked him. He would’ve liked you.” He went quiet, his expression morphing into one of contemplation.

“Well anyone willing to stand up and hang out with that stubborn kid from Brooklyn has my vote.” You joked, ruffling his locks.

Steve didn’t say anything. He just looked at you for a minute, before turning back to the pictures and starting to clear them away. “I’m gonna put these away and we can go for that run, alright?”

You nodded, getting off of him and stretching. “Alright. But you can’t lap me again!” He chortled at that, smirking not so innocently. “I’m so serious, Rogers! That was mean! I feel so out of shape when you do that!”

“Alright, alright. I won’t honey. I promise.” He grabbed your hand and placed a kiss to your knuckles. “And you’re beautiful no matter what, okay?”

“Sure, bubba.”

“I mean it!”

You smiled at his insistence, his eyebrow knit together in seriousness. “Okay. Meet me outside when you’re done.”

“Yes ma’am!” He nodded, spinning back to his keepsakes and adding as an afterthought, “wanna go see a moving picture?”

You gave him an amused look, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, Stevie. I’d love to go see a movie with you.”

He blushed, the tips of his ears turning bright red. “Movies. Right.”

“Don’t worry about it, Steve. It’s endearing.” You winked at him as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Now hurry up. I wanna get out there before it gets too hot.”

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