#I live for the irony of this combination | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

byechristopher · 9 months

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soooo it’s ur biggest fan here 🤣! so idea. chris is a hockey boy. i need something angsty or something

also a fluff idea reader is a dancer and chris is hockey player and reader has a competition the same place chris has a tournament. and it’s just them supporting each other

although just do what ever you want but hockey chris>>> i feel like you’d do him justice

Jealous guy.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST & FLUFF.

Author's note: I worked hard on this because it's for my biggest fan. You know I love my angsty shit, so I took your idea and combined it with mine. I hope y'all like it. 🤍 Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Ps. I'm the kind of bitch that gets all giddy and shit when Chris says "my girl" in my OWN FIC. Okay.

Warnings: not really a warning but mentions of fighting and a lil bloody lip. Mwuah. Didn't proofread, sorry!

[ YOU ]

"Okay, and what the hell do you want me to do about it?" I almost scream, turning around to look at Chris.

He was fuming, to say the least. His hair was messy, he didn't have a shirt on but wore his usual gray sweatpants. His glare was deadly.

"Uhm, I don't know, tell him to not send fucking flowers to OUR apartment?!" he shouts, throwing his phone on the couch. The irony in his voice is more than evident.

I couldn't believe it when I saw it either Honestly, I never expected him to go to such lengths. Despite being just a co-worker, he's become a relentless presence in my life. Whether it's showing up everywhere at work, bringing me coffee, or bombarding me with emails – it's relentless. The boundary crossed when he managed to find my address; literally searching for my goddamn address and sending me flowers? That is wild. Of course I told Chris about it, but he acts as if it is my fault this psycho found our address.

"I don't even know his phone number, Chris! How would I ever know that he'd search for the address and send me flowers?" I sigh, still very angry.

"I'll beat the shit out of him, I swear.. the game starts in less than an hour, fucking hell.." he says, checking his watch, "how the fuck am I ever going to play when I'm like this?"

I don't reply to him – he really makes it sound like it's my fault and despite my initial enthusiasm for the game, it's waned due to his blame game. Still, I don't want to come off as a heartless bitch, especially on the eve of his crucial match. So, I grab my phone, wallet, and keys before heading over to him.

"I really hope you win." I whisper, placing a soft peck on his cheek before exiting the bedroom and shortly after, leaving the apartment.

[ CHRIS ]

She left. Fucking hell. I always do bullshit like this – I can't keep my big mouth shut and now she's not even coming to the game. I really needed her in this one. But that is my own fault.

In the quiet solitude of our apartment, I try to prepare for the upcoming game; amidst the dim glow of our living room, I meticulously don my team jersey, each movement an attempt to shift my focus. Taking a moment, I inhale deeply, trying to be as calm as possible before the game.

With a determined resolve, I grab my gear, the familiar scent of the hockey bag triggering a surge of adrenaline. As I step outside, the crisp evening air hits me, momentarily clearing my mind. The journey to the rink is a silent contemplation, the distant echoes of the city fading as I immerse myself in mental preparation.

Arriving at the arena, I feel the familiar anticipation. The ambient sounds of the crowd and distant echoes of skates on the ice envelop me, grounding me in the moment. I exchange nods and greetings with teammates. The locker room door creaks open, revealing the sanctum where emotions are set aside, and the game becomes paramount. Amidst the hum of chatter and the clatter of equipment, I sigh; I really want her to come. I still have hope, although I doubt it. The tension lingers as I tighten my skate laces, and Jake, my teammate and friend, notices my distraction.

"You seem off, Chris. Everything okay?" Jake asks.

"Yeah.." I look up at him, and he seems like he already knows, "..just had a big fight with my girl before I left. Can't shake it off," I confess.

Jake pats me on the shoulder. "I understand, man. I wish I could say something but you gotta leave it behind for now. We've got a game to win. Sort things out later."

On the ice, rival players almost immediately target me, seeming to be aware of my vulnerable state; it must be that fucking expression of mine. I can't hide it. During the first period, a smirking opponent skates by, taunting, "trouble at home, Chrissy? Should focus on that instead of the game." he smiles.

Enraged, I retaliate with a forceful check, earning myself a penalty, "keep your temper in check, Chris!" warns the referee.

In the penalty box, I mutter under my breath, "I can't fucking believe this."

As the match progresses, rival players intensify their attempts to provoke me; we've played with those fuckers before, and if anyone has seen me in a game, they know very well the only thing that can affect the way I play is her. Undeterred, I channel my anger into my plays, determined to win this goodamn game while internally wondering if she came to see me after all.

In a breakaway, I find myself one-on-one with the opposing goalie. With a swift deke, I send the puck into the net, equalizing the score. The crowd erupts, and my teammates cheer.

Rival players persist in their attempts to get under my skin. During a tense moment, an opposing forward sneers, "look, your girlfriend's probably enjoying the show. Make sure to not embarass her again."

After that, I almost lose it, and in a heated moment, a rival defenseman delivers a high stick to my face, splitting my lip. Blood drips onto the ice as I stumble backward. The referee signals a penalty, but the damage is done.

Undeterred by the bleeding, I clench my fists, "you think that's going to stop me? You fucking coward!" I almost scream to make sure that fucking asshole hears me.

The game continues, and during a power play, I push through the pain. I charge towards the net, ignoring the throbbing pain in my lip – the only thing on my mind is her and making her proud.

Fueled by a surge of anger and determination, I respond with a spectacular goal that secures the lead for my team. I skate past the jeering opponent, acknowledging the crowd's cheers.

As the final buzzer sounds, signaling our victory, I finally spot my girlfriend in the stands. My heart beats faster. A mix of emotions plays across her face, and I realize the significance of my performance. It's like no one else is around, just us and that is the only thing that matters. I keep eye contact with her, even when my teammates are cheering for me and I smile, even with that bloody lip – she smiles back and I want to kiss her so bad.

[ YOU ]

When I saw Chris' bloody lip, I almost lost it – the restraint within me, resisting the urge to jump in and shove my fingernails into that asshole's eye sockets, is beyond words. I was well aware they were deliberately provoking Chris; his simmering anger was very evident. The recklessness in his gameplay during the initial stages of the game made it even more obvious that he was more focused on what they said than the actual game.

I kept yelling his name at the top of my lungs, unsure if he could hear, but I desperately wished for his victory, especially after that intense fight. Witnessing him wince from the pain now and then, I felt an overwhelming urge to cry.

As he scored the decisive goal and secured the victory, I couldn't contain my excitement, jumping up and down. It brought back memories of our younger days when I always cheered him on during his games.

When all of this was over and I just stood there, I could see him looking at me. His gaze finally finds me in the midst of the crowd, and my heart feels like it might leap out of my chest. Everything else fades away, leaving only him in my line of sight.

I notice all of the team leaving, probably going to the locker rooms and I quickly head to the exit door.

In the dimly lit corridor outside of where the locker rooms are, he finally comes outside and spots me waiting there, my expression a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

"Hey," he calls out, his voice carrying a hint of both excitement and apology.

I look up, meeting his eyes, "hey," a subtle smile playing on my lips, "you played amazing out there."

Still trying to catch his breath, he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, keeping me close for a while. We are not saying anything, I just hold him close, my fingers buried in his sweaty hair.

"Thank you so much for coming." he whispers.

"I would never lose any of your games. Even when you're being an asshole." I smile, which I am sure he can hear when I'm speaking.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to put the blame on you. I just.. I am fucking jealous. I don't want any other guy near you." he keeps his voice as low as possible.

"Shhh, I know. Let's take care of that lip first and then you can apologise to me all you want." I pull away but he doesn't let go of course – I cup his cheek and take out some tissue that I keep in my bag for emergency with my free hand. I gently pat the skin, trying to clean the blood as much as I can without hurting him.

His eyes soften, "seriously, baby. Thanks for coming. I always play better when you're cheering for me."

I look up at him, my gaze softening as well as I cup both of his cheeks now, "I know. I am so, so proud of you. You were amazing, as always." I whisper, leaning in to play the softest kiss on his little wound.

"God, I love you." he whispers, wrapping his arms around my waist, hugging me close to him.

"I love you too."

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daycourtofficial · 10 months

Text

Use Somebody

Summary: you and Lucien have to pretend to be together, causing a fight between you and a certain shadowsinger. You discover too late that you’re a wanted aspect to an evil plot - can Azriel save you in time?

“We could have (y/n) and Lucien do it.” You overheard Rhysand saying as you walked into his study.

“You could have me and Lucien do what?” You ask, biting into your apple.

Rhys turns to you, tutting so you don’t bring your apple too close to his desk, “we need someone to attend a ball in the winter court. Azriel’s picked up some rumblings, and Kallias has asked if we could help. We’ll all be attending, but we need you and Lucien in particular to do some recon.”

You stop mid bite of your apple, still confused on the plan. “But Lucien and I aren’t spies, we’re just court nobility.”

“Which is why you two are perfect - you’re nobility to two different courts, autumn and dawn, so the two of you mingling wouldn’t be too suspicious. Plus the two of you are very good at socializing at these events.”

“So you want to send us to go to a ball to do what exactly?” The idea still making zero sense to you.

It’s Azriel who speaks up, “he wants you and Lucien to pretend to be together and get close to a few targets, see if you can find anything out.”

You look at Azriel, and he looks pissed. You’re not sure if it’s because he just returned from the war camps, at this plan, or if he doesn’t think you and Lucien are capable of spywork. The idea of disappointing Azriel made your stomach drop to your pit.

Rhys interjects, “you and Lucien have been friends for centuries - it’s a believable cover. And you’re talented with glamours - you could even glamour a mating bond scent over the two of you.”

You reply, “We attended tons of events together when we were younger - but anyone from one of those events would know we were lying.”

“It’s been hundreds of years, anything could have happened. Besides, I can provide you with a guest list to look over, ensuring you don’t know any of the guests.”

“I don’t know, Rhys…” you drawl.

Rhys sighs, “it’s one night. Do you think you could do this or not?”

You think it over for a moment and decide that you can, Azriel’s hesitation at your involvement be damned.

The irony wasn’t lost on you. You and Lucien pretending to be a couple when the two of you are pining over Azriel and Elain, who seem to be a couple. Cassian disagrees with your assessment of the situation - he’s convinced that Azriel has feelings for you and that Elain is just a friend, but you’re not so sure.

Lucien’s voice stirs you from your thoughts. “Wouldn’t our lives be so much easier if we were mates instead?”

You laugh, the idea having crossed your mind a time or two. “It certainly would be. We’d also have adorable babes.”

Lucien laughs, “those poor, beautiful babes, shame they’ll never exist.”

You two laugh, trying not to think of the heartache too much. Your own pining aside, all you want is happiness for Lucien. Pushing it aside, you two begin crafting your story: you’ve been married for two years, living in dawn for the time being, but you two want to explore all of the courts before deciding where to settle down permanently.

“You look lovely, dear,” Lucien tells you. If you two were going to pretend to be in love, you wanted the both of you to look incredible. Lucien’s wearing a green jacket with brown pants, and you’re wearing a deep green dress, with exposed boning and a thigh slit practically at your hip, exposing your entire left leg. You had gone a step further, embroidering a tiny fox onto Lucien’s jacket’s lapel and a matching one onto the shoulder strap of your dress.

“Thank you, you look very handsome as well.” And he did. The shade of green you selected for both of you matched both of your complexions and honestly, you two looked hot.

“What should our mating bond smell like?” You ask him.

The two of you think about it, ultimately deciding on a combination of smells: apples, fresh tea, and honey, the scent filling the room.

“Incredible work - I must say, you are a fantastic fake mate, darling,” he says, offering his arm to you. “Likewise, fake mate,” you say, tipping a pretend hat in his direction and placing your hand in the crook of his arm, walking out of your room.

Rhys had given you one main objective: talk, mingle, dance, drink. The hope is that you and Lucien can overhear something or that someone will inadvertently tell you two lovebirds something they don’t mean to.

The two of you take the dance floor, the band playing a slower song, one you and Lucien have danced to thousands of times, the rhythm ingrained into your mind over a centuries worth of balls.

You loved dancing with Lucien, the two of you fell into easy rhythm and garnered a ton of attention whenever you found yourselves on the dance floor. The two of you made a striking couple, and your dress looked incredible as he spun you around the floor.

Through the dips, the turns, and the spins of the song, you made sure to keep eye contact with Lucien as much as possible. You looked into his russet eyes, but all you wanted to find was hazel ones staring back at you. You’re sure Lucien was hoping the same about Elain in your stead.

The song ends and the two of you garnered more attention than you thought you would, and all the attention made you blush. You stepped away from your friend to get some wine, almost crashing into someone.

“Saffron?” You ask, incredulously. Rhys had been able to provide you with a full list of everyone attending, to ensure no one you knew was attending, but you didn’t see Saffron’s name anywhere on that list.

She looks at you, wrapping you in a hug. “It’s been so long! Of all the people to run into at one of these things, I’m not surprised to see you!”

She pulls back, looking you up and down, noticing the fake wedding ring on your hand. “And who’s the lucky male?”

Saffron knew you and Lucien when you were younger, so she knows there’s nothing between you two. You could either lie and try to skirt away from her, or tell her the ‘truth’ of this mission.

“It’s Lucien - we got married a few years ago actually!” You say, not sounding totally convincing.

“Lucien? The red head you were always with?” She asks, almost laughing. “You two always seemed more like siblings than lovers.”

You swallow, worried your entire night is unraveling because of her presence. “It was a surprise for us too! But one day the bond just snapped-“

“Wait, you two are mated?”

“Yes,” you reply curtly.

“I had heard he was mated to another girl and she rejected it.”

Her knowing that has definitely thrown a wrench in the plans. “Um, the rumor mill must have been working overtime. There’s no other girl, it’s just us.”

She looks at you, something odd flashing in her eyes, before she decides to leave it be. “Anyway, it was great running into you - congratulations!”

You thank her before she walks away and you can let out a breath of relief.

After running into Saffron, you spent hours dancing, mingling and drinking. You walk outside onto the balcony, telling Lucien you need a moment of fresh air. The noise level of the room was getting to you, so you thought you’d step out for a moment.

The moment the door shut behind you, Azriel emerged from the shadows. You startled, not expecting him to pop out.

“Hi Azzie,” you say, your nickname making him recoil. “Should I be seen talking to you, since.. ya know?” You ask, unsure of how spywork worked completely.

“So you don’t want to be seen with me, but you have no problem being seen all over Lucien?”

His question catches you off guard, and you look and notice just how angry he looks, anger directed at you.

“That’s not what I said at all, besides you know why I’m all over him tonight,” you reply, looking to make sure no one can hear this conversation.

“Yes, but you sure jumped at the chance to spend the night wrapped in his arms, didn’t you?” He moves closer to you, the two of you less than a foot apart, facing each other.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about - he’s my friend and he’s mated!”

“But she hasn’t accepted it yet,” he states.

“So?” You ask, “to me he’s mated, he’s off limits. Besides, I’m not in love with him, I don’t have feelings for him!”

The four glasses of wine weren’t a problem in the ballroom, but they’re a problem out here, making this conversation even more confusing to you.

“If the two of you want to parade around about how happy you are, why don’t you find another court to go do it in, and stay out of mine,” Azriel practically growls at you.

Your soft, sweet Azriel is growling at you. You’ve never been on the receiving end of his anger, but it terrified you.

He wasn’t getting it, he wasn’t getting that you didn’t want Lucien, you wanted him.

You sighed, trying not to let his words sting too much when you say, “maybe we will.” and storm back into the party.

After your fight with Azriel, you got considerably more drunk. At the end of the night, you and Lucien walked back into the palace together, laughing, him holding you up from the excessive wine you drank. You’re about to tell him something, when someone catches your eye.

“Hi Elain!” You say, pointing out Elain to Lucien.

“Hi,” she says to you, but she won’t stop looking at Lucien, “is it okay if I have a moment alone with Lucien?”

“Yes, absolutely, excuse me,” you say, brushing past Elain. You turn around giving Lucien a thumbs up and a smile, showing him it’ll be okay.

You walk into the kitchen, looking for more wine, when you bump into Cassian. “Owww,” you say, rubbing your arm where you bumped into him.

He laughs at your obviously drunken state, and tells you, “you did good tonight, doll.”

You look up at him, “yeah? Do you think Lucien and I could be spies now? Do you think Azriel was proud of us?”

Cassian’s caught a bit off guard by your question. “Why wouldn’t he be proud of you?”

You sigh and look at your feet, “because when Rhys asked us to do this assignment, he looked so upset, like he didn’t think we could do it.” You’re not sure why this is spilling out of you, but it’s started pouring and it won’t stop. You look Cassian in the eyes and ask, “what’s wrong with me, Cass?”

Cassian can almost hear his heart shatter at your question. “Why would anything be wrong with you?” He asks, grabbing your wine and going to get you a glass of water in replacement.

You slump your head down on the kitchen island and mutter into your hands, “why am I in love with someone who hates me and loves someone else?”

Cassian starts to panic. He’s good at consoling when you’re injured, but you’re heartbroken. This is uncharted territory. Usually you talked about these things with Mor or Feyre, not the giant Ilyrian next to you. “Who?”

You lift your head up, and he can see tear stains running down your face, “your dumb handsome brother.”

If you didn’t look so sad, Cassian would laugh at how you said that. “Wait, what did he tell you? Did he make you think he doesn’t care about you?”

“I thought we were friends, Cassian,” you choke back a sob, “I don’t know what I did, but he hates me now. He wants me to leave the night court… and maybe I should.”

Before he can say anything else, you get up and tell him, “I’m done, Cassian. It was hard, but I could bottle my feelings if we were friends.” You look up at him, and Cassian doesn’t think he’s ever seen such heartbreak on a face before. “He hates me now, and I still love him. Maybe I should leave the night court for a while, leave his precious court like he asked me to.”

Grabbing a bottle of wine as you pass him, you head upstairs for the night.

Cassian was a violent man. He’s been in countless fights, multiple wars, several battles, but seeing you so upset over his idiot brother made him rage in a new way. He stomped up to Azriel’s room, flinging the door open, and pulling the sheet out from under him, causing him to fall to the floor. “What the f-“ Azriel starts to say, but he’s cut off.

“Are you in love with Elain?” Cassian asks.

“You woke me up to grill me about my love life?” Azriel asks, more confused by the second.

“Answer me,” Cassian practically growls at the shadowsinger.

“No, okay! No. I’m not.” Azriel says, still sitting on the ground where Cassian hurled him.

“Are you in love with someone else? Someone who just spent the night pretending to be in love with someone else in the hopes that you would approve of her?”

Azriel blinks in confusion. “You had me. Then you lost me. It doesn’t matter - I saw how she looked at Lucien.”

Cassian did not have time for Azriel to begin wallowing. “Have you ever thought that while she was looking at Lucien, he wasn’t who she was seeing?” He pauses for a moment, then says, “you better talk to her before morning.” He kicks his brother for good measure then storms out.

Azriel got the courage to go to your door half an hour later, but you didn’t respond. At first he thought he had just gone too far, but when his shadows whispered gone, gone, gone to him, he knew something was wrong. The room was empty, and he could smell blood on the duvet covers. He told Rhysand mind to mind what was happening, and decided the best source was the last male he wanted to see: Lucien.

He started banging on the door to Lucien’s room, when the redheaded male finally opened the door. Half-dressed, with Elain hiding under the duvet, Azriel gets to the point, “did anyone tonight give you the impression they wanted to hurt her?” Lucien opens the door a little wider, asking Azriel a question he doesn’t want the answer to.

The shadowsinger sighs. “She’s missing, and her room shows signs of a struggle.”

Lucien begins asking a million questions, when Azriel stops him. “Rhys and I want to talk to you about every person you met with tonight.”

Lucien walked them through your night, including when you had left for a few moments to go on the balcony. Azriel flinched at the memory, his jealousy getting the best of him in the moment.

Rhys was about to ask him to go through a few people again, when something catches Rhys’s eye.

“Lucien,” Rhys says, “your fox is glowing.”

The fox you had embroidered on his jacket was glowing. It glowed for a moment, and then they heard your voice, confused and drunk, and another voice, projecting from the fox.

“Clever girl,” Lucien whispers.

You woke up in a dirty cell, Hybern shackles adorning your wrists. Your head was throbbing, the blow to the head really rattled you, and you’re still drunk. There’s a small window, and the moon is still high in the sky, so you don’t think you’ve been out for too long. You do remember the fox you had embroidered on your clothes, and you hope that, since the magic was sewn into it, it would still work despite the shackles. You place your palm over it for five seconds, and you just hope and pray that your enchantment will actually work.

The door to the cell opens, and in comes Saffron.

“Saffron?” You ask, confusion over your features. “What is happening?”

“Everyone always talked about how smart you were - why don’t you put the pieces together?” She asks, her disdain for you icing every word.

“Okay, I’m still drunk, and someone hit my head, but let’s see.” You pause, thinking about everything you know about Saffron. “We went to school together, you liked… magic classes. You liked knowing what magic could do.” You pause for a moment, something wanting to come to the surface of your thoughts. “You were interested in my powers. You once called Lucien weak. You like oranges - okay I’m getting a bit off track.”

You start thinking again, your head pounding from all the thinking.

“I saw you at the one hundred year reunion, and you worked for Kallias, documenting the magical capabilities of fae….” You trail off, your head still pounding, begging for you to go to sleep.

Your eyes snap up, “you got in trouble in school for using arcane magic on the grounds, but you were only suspended for a while. Then fifty years after the reunion Lucien told me he had run into you and you were with… uh.. that guy..” you start snapping to remember, “Wren! You were with Wren!”

Your mind is whirring, so many thoughts swirling around in your drunken haze. “Wren was that ugly guy who.. you dated him.. and..” there’s something there with Wren, but what is it?

“Wren always wanted to eat at that place on the corner that served soup. Wren wanted to be an arcane magic scholar, but they wouldn’t let him,” you pause, slurring a bit while you point at Saffron, “and you two got in trouble, but he was expelled!”

It didn’t matter that you were drunk, the wheels in your brain were turning. “You once told me after a break up that you don’t want love, you want power. And Wren was obsessed with ancient power rituals. He talked about them all the time.”

The idea hits you as you say it out loud, “it’s a full moon tonight.” Your thoughts have sobered you up instantly. “It’s the summer solstice, the strongest night for arcane magic,” your voice gets really quiet as you say, “and you’re going to do something. But what?”

She looks at you, egging you on to realize what she wants. But what does Saffron want? Power. Power. Power.

“You told me I was the most powerful of our year.” You swallow, realization hitting you to your core. “You’re going to take my powers.”

The silence hangs in the room. If your fox communicator worked, then you imagine the room is dead silent there too.

Saffron slowly claps. “There she is, brightest of our age. Oh how all of our teachers adored you,” she says, crossing the room to you, “it was incredible running into you at the party. Once I heard you were attending, I had to swoop in so I could see you. I slipped some faebane into your drink while we were talking so I could subdue you. My sweet, there’s one thing about the ritual you don’t know.”

She leans in closer to you, when she says, “we won’t just be taking your powers, we’ll be sacrificing you, which is a bit more extensive, but it allows for us to also take your knowledge and your memories.”

Your eyes snap up to hers, “no, no!”

“Your memories will teach us all we need to know about your little night court companions,” she laughs, walking towards the door to leave you alone with the revelation. Right before she’s out the door, she wants to tell you one last thing, “I always thought your powers were wasted on the likes of you. You could have been a queen, you could have given the high lords a run for their money.”

Everyone was dead silent, waiting for more news from the fox, but it seems like your captor left you alone. By this point the entire inner circle was in Lucien’s room, and tears were streaming down Mor’s face. She approached Azriel and said, “you have to find her, don’t you usually keep a few shadows on her at all times?”

Mor talking to him broke his concentration on the fox stitching, embarrassment flooding his senses. “No, I don’t, not tonight.”

“Why the hell not? You don’t even let her go down the street without a few extra shadows, but you let her do mission work unguarded!”

Lucien looks up at Azriel, realization coating his features, “She was upset about something after she came back in from the balcony, and she got plastered. You got in a fight and called the shadows off, didn’t you?”

Heat creeps up Azriel’s face, at both the mention of your incredibly dumb fight and the fact that his entire family was looking at him, aware of how badly he messed things up.

Rhys is the one to break the silence, “you told me you could behave, Azriel!”

“And I thought I could! I just.. I had a moment. A lapse in judgement.”

“A lapse in judgement!” Cassian cries, “she was crying to me because she thought you hated her! She thought you’d never want to see her again. She told me she might leave because it’s what you want from her!”

Mor gets to Azriel first, swatting him on the chest after every word she says, “what” swat “did” swat “you” swat “do?” swat.

Azriel lets her hit him, he more than deserves it. He can’t believe his stupidity in calling his shadows away from you, something he did out of pure anger at watching them dance around you on the balcony.

He starts to respond, when a shadow comes barreling in through the window, hitting Lucien on the head as it comes to inform Azriel of what it just found out.

You had been hopeful that the fox would be more helpful, but you’re thinking the magic didn’t work. Still in your party dress, you move around the cell a little. The witching hour is getting close, so you know they’ll be coming for you soon.

The cell opens and in comes Saffron and two huge males. “I brought some back up in case you tried to run,” she practically purrs at the idea, likely imagining them beating you half to death.

“Great,” you say. You follow them down the hallway, and the thought does skirt past your mind, but you’re shackled at the wrist and the ankle, you won’t be able to run fast or far, especially without your magic.

They open up two doors to the outside - it’s a nice, cool night. The moon is glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen it, distracting you from seeing the wooden logs surrounding a giant pole. You breathe in deeply, wishing, willing your friends to come rescue you. Now is the time, you think.

One of Saffron’s goons leads you to the pyre, and you take this opportunity to swing your shackles at his face, hitting him right in the cheek. The other one grabs you from behind, allowing the one you hit to face you.

He grabs your face, “such a pretty little thing. Too bad we didn’t have more time, I could have had a lot of fun with you.” His insinuation makes your blood run cold, and he pulls back his fist and punches you squarely on the nose, and you can feel it break, the blood pouring down your face already.

He nods to the goon that’s holding you in place and he lets go, giving you a second of repreive, until the one in front of you grabs you by the neck, and holds you up in the air, cutting your lungs off from the night air. You start clawing at his hands, desperately trying to be able to breathe. Just as your vision starts going a little spotty, he releases you, and you fall to the ground, gasping for air.

The other goon grabs you, lifting you up onto the top of the pyre, tying your hands to the pole. You take one last opportunity and kick him in the knee. He goes down for only a second, when he comes back up he just looks at you and spits on you. You gasp, anger fueling you.

“Enough,” Saffron says, “enough. It is time, call everyone here.”

Within a moment, ten other fae come into the clearing, all staring at you. “We’re here today to take power that we rightfully deserve!” The crowd cheers. “We will take this power and use it for a better tomorrow!”

The crowd erupts in applause, honestly you had no idea a dozen or so people could be so loud. Saffron begins chanting in an ancient language, and despite the shackles, you try sending out an emergency message to Rhys and Feyre, if you’re going to come rescue me, please do it now.

She brings a lit torch to the bottom of the pyre, lighting it. You can feel the heat as more of the pyre catches. The fire is getting closer to your feet, and you start coughing at the smoke.

Their chanting continues, getting louder, and you can feel parts of you draining, even with the shackles around you. You start yelling, trying for any distraction to break the concentration on their chanting. If you’re going down in an ancient ritual, you are not going with grace.

“Hey fucker! That’s right! You, Saffron! Not powerful enough to subdue me on your own, you have to use these stupid shackles from Hybern! You fucking coward - I bet you couldn’t even handle my power! It would consume you and burn you alive!”

Saffron faltered a bit at your taunts, but the rest of the crowd continued, persistent. “Is she supposed to be your new leader? what has she promised you? Power? Money? Land? I have all of those things, and look where I ended up! She’s crazy! She isn’t going to help you, she’ll steal your powers too!”

The flames are skirting up the pyre, getting awfully close to the fabric of your dress. You pull your legs, trying to climb up the pole you’re tied to.

“She’s weak, I’m tied up like a roast pig because she’s nothing!”

The chanting falters for a beat, enough for you to feel some of your power seep back in. You’re still shackled and can’t use them, but that doesn’t mean you want them gone.

You start coughing, excessive smoke inhalation perhaps, but you keep going. “My friends are going to be so pissed when they find out you killed me!”

Saffron allows the group to continue chanting, while she looks at you and says, “The unwanted Vanserra boy? I promise you, dear, he doesn’t scare us.”

A darkness creeps into the clearing, and a voice speaks. “I promise you, I’m much more terrifying than the fox.” Azriel steps out of the shadows, darkness radiating off of him in waves.

You’ve seen Azriel angry before, but never like this. He is almost feral with his emotion, he’d still be terrifying without the mass of shadows rolling off of him.

A few shadows come to you, circling around you, as if assessing you.

Rhys, Feyre, and Cassian step out at other points of the clearing, circling around the fae gathered.

Cassian makes a break for you amidst the chaos, and their arrival momentarily made you forget that you are moments away from being a filet mignon.

“Cas, I’m drugged! No powers!” You yell, as he approaches you. The smoke is growing stronger underneath you, forcing you to cough.

The general had no idea what to do, the fire was growing rapidly by the second, so he did the only thing he thought to do and didn’t allow himself a moment to reconsider: he ran, charging straight at you. Running up the pyre, ducking down so his shoulder makes contact with your hips, his momentum is enough to break the pole you’re secured to, the two of you tumbling off the pyre. Your head hits the grass with a hard thud, but otherwise you’re unharmed.

Cassian pulls himself off of you, checking you for injuries, and stands up and starts stamping out the train of your dress that had caught fire.

Coughing, and still tied to the pole, you thank Cassian. He moves to the top of your head, pulling the pole out from behind you, allowing you to at least stand up, even if you are still shackled.

Your ordeal with Cassian didn’t allow you to see the fight, but the remnants lead you to think it was quick and incredibly painful for the fae that captured you.

Saffron and one other are missing, assumingly already being taken by Rhys or Azriel for interrogation.

Feyre comes over, crouching down next to where you sit. “Are you okay?” She asks, placing both of her hands on the sides of your face.

The weight of the night begins settling, and you look at her, “I almost died. They wanted my powers, my knowledge, my memories.”

“We know,” Feyre says, hugging you. You’re not sure how but as she hugs you she undoes your chains, freeing your hands. You use the freedom to wrap your arms around your high lady’s waist.

“If they had taken my memories and come after you all, it would have been my fault.”

“But you were so so incredibly clever with that charm on your and Lucien’s clothes, we were able to get here just in time.” Your head turns to see Azriel crouched next to your and Feyre’s embrace, having come up without your notice.

Your eyes meet his, the tone of his words working to calm you down. At least, to make you feel less guilty.

“Do you want to return home?” He asks, holding a hand out. You nod, and he scoops you up, the shadows enveloping you as you realize you never specified which home to go to.

You were relieved when Azriel’s room at the House of Wind comes into view, afraid he’d take you straight back to your familial home in dawn after the last words he spoke to you.

“I’m sorry I failed you.”

Azriel wasn’t a man of many words, so he liked getting straight to the point whenever he could. He kept you close to him, still holding your hands from winnowing.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I was dumb, and jealous, and you were looking at Lucien like how you usually look at me, and I got scared.” He sighs, “I shouldn’t have told you to stay away from my court.”

You nod, trying not to think too much about him calling himself jealous, especially saying he’s jealous over Lucien.

“I just,” he sighs, running his hand through his hair, “seeing you with him, it brought up all these feelings of inadequacy. I’m not court nobility, but you are, and I’ve never felt good enough for you for a million reasons, and that’s one of them. Not that I think Lucien deserves you, hell no, but you deserve someone that’s your equal.”

Your mind is still reeling from the wine and the concussion you’re most likely sporting, but you’re hoping you’re gauging Azriel’s words correctly. Otherwise this will be really awkward.

You take one of his hands, “and you are not my equal? I’m the princess of the dawn court, truly no one could be as equal to me as a shadowsinger. Or is it too on the nose for a princess of the sun to be in love with the man in the shadows?”

His grip tightens on your hand and he pauses before asking, “are you saying you’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” you reply, with all the tenderness this moment deserves. “And as for how I looked at Lucien,” you clear your throat, “I was thinking about you, not him. I spent the night pretending I was dancing with you.”

He looks at you, really looking into your eyes, trying to memorize your face, as he raises his hands to cups your jaw.

“Is it terribly cliche for the man in the shadows to fall in love with the woman who radiates sunlight?”

“Maybe a little,” you reply, “but I’ll allow it.”

You’re not sure which of you leaned forward, perhaps it was both of you. The kiss was full of night cool air and the feeling of the sun on your bare skin, his mouth enveloping yours.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel angst

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ellecdc · 8 months

Text

The Drink Snob

mafia!Remus Lupin x fem!reader | 3200 words

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4

CW: mentions of spiked drink (no one drinks it), reference to past spiked drinks, complaining about misogyny, bad reputation of American tourists in the UK (I'm sorry!)

The short of it was: it had been a long day.

The long of it though, by God, was that you really, really needed a drink.

You got to your favourite pub which was only a brisk 7-minute walk from the university; a tiny, hole-in-the-wall Irish pub which probably had several thousand identical pubs lined across the UK but that didn’t matter, dammit, because this one was special – this one was yours. You chuckled at the irony that you had moved half-way across the world to England only to sit yourself in an Irish chain pub that you’d likely be able to find back home a mere 6000 kilometers away.

You relished the feel of the warm air hitting your rosy cheeks after marching your ass down to the pub in the biting wind in naught but a long coat and a scarf. The warm air stung but in all the best ways as you shucked off your outer-layers and plopped down on a stool by the bar, unawares of anyone else within your vicinity other than the bartender promised to serve you your drinks.

“Alright there, Lass? What can I get for ye?” The fellow asked and you could have kissed him right then and there.

“Can I have a negroni and your tallest pint please.” You asked, hoping the desperation in your voice wasn’t noticeable – the fact that the bartender didn’t comment on the odd combination of drinks let you know that is was noticeable. No matter – you were desperate, what did you care?

Turns out you should have cared more.

“I’m sorry but I must tell you, that is an awful combination of drinks.” A lilting voice came from your left side. You groaned audibly and held your hands up to your temples like blinders to avoid even looking at the voice who dared to speak to you after such a day.

“S’pose its good nobody asked you then.” You muttered darkly. You didn’t make a habit of speaking to people this way often – people already spent enough of your time in the UK mistaking you for an American on account of your accent anyway, you needn’t add fuel to the fire by adding to an already bad reputation.

“Please tell me that you’re ordering for a friend. You’ve surely just ordered for someone who’s meeting you here?”

You knew better – you really did. You don’t let strange men in bars know that you’re alone; make them believe someone could show up to save you at any minute. But dammit, you’ve been fending off jackasses all day – what’s one more?

“Apparently, I live to disappoint men, sir, so no – both drinks are for me. Is that quite alright with you? I didn’t realize I had to pass this decision by the board.” You spat, finally turning your what you were sure was a burning gaze to this mystery guy on a stool to your left.

You hesitated in your ire for a moment: the man was quite a bit larger than you had pictured in your mind – not large in a particularly broad way but the man seemed to be excruciatingly tall; he sat basically spilling off his stool, while still managing to look elegant in doing so. He was dressed sharply but not in a way that made him stand out – respectable but forgettable, he blended into this bar well. Or he would if he hadn’t been so fucking handsome.

He had warm, honey-coloured curls that seemed to artfully fall in front of his face, and eyes to match. You’d never seen amber coloured eyes before, but you couldn’t seem to pull your gaze away from them. You did – by god you did – because the rest of the man was too enticing not too. He had a chunk missing out of his left eyebrow which was arched mischievously at what you assumed was your attitude with him, and his crooked smirk matched. He had a few scars littering his face – most were small, but there was one large one that crossed the bridge of his nose, and another nick on the right of his upper lip that may have continued onto his lower, but you didn’t want to get caught staring at his mouth. And of course, of-fucking-course he’d have a dimple. Why wouldn’t he? Could this day get any worse.

“What was the thought process, then?” He asked, his smirk growing deeper.

“What?” You guffawed. He couldn’t seriously be doing this; people didn’t do this, right?

He gestured between the two drinks sat in front of you with his own – a rum and coke if you guessed correctly. “Why those drinks, specifically? They don’t exactly pair well together.”

You stared dumbly at this hot, audacious man. You hoped he’d decide you weren't worth the breath and move along. He only stared back at you.

“There wasn’t any.”

“Hm?” He queried.

“There wasn’t any. Thought process, I mean.” You muttered, taking a sip of the negroni. “I like both drinks – usually separately, but I’ve been dreaming about getting my ass down here since practically 9:30 this morning and I couldn’t choose which I wanted first and I knew that I planned on getting at least a little bit tipsy in order to pretend I didn’t have a completely mind-fucking day so I thought ‘fuck it, I’ll order both’ and I thought since it was no one’s business but my own what I put into my body that I could get away with it but clearly, I was wrong.” You felt winded after your mini rant as you looked back at the man. He seemed genuinely entertained at your story, though his eyes grew a bit softer.

“Thinking of drinking at 9:30 am, hm?” He pondered out loud. “You know, that’s usually the sign of a problem; one might call it alcoholism.”

You barked a laugh. “Yeah, you call it alcoholism, I call it Gilderoy Lockhart.”

“Ah, so boy-problems then, is it?” He asked in a laugh.

You shot him a warning look. “It is not like that.”

“I didn’t mean to offend.” He offered with his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Tell me what it’s like then.”

You sighed dramatically. “It’s really not that big of a deal, I’m just mad about stuff at school.”

“Ah, you’re a student, then?”

“PhD candidate, but technically, yes.” You offered, downing the rest of the negroni.

“Very neat. What’s your focus?” He asked again as you began sipping on your pint, trying not to grimace at the change in drink. You're sure you failed.

“Music.”

“Hm, I didn’t know one could get a PhD in music.” He queried.

“Music theory, but yeah.” You offered, moving your drink back and forth between your hands.

“And that brought you here? To England? Why not stay in Canada – if that’s where you’re from, pardon my assumption.” He quickly apologized.

You smirked at his correct assumption – thankful that you didn’t come off ‘too American’ today.

“She goes wherever the wind takes her.”

Your statement was met with silence, so you turned to see the man had frozen in his movements and stared at you incredulously.

“Are-are you quoting Disney movies to me?”

“So, you did get the reference.”

“I did, I just fail to see how Pocahontas relates to a PhD program in England on music theory.” He mutters, looking up at you from the rim of his drink.

“I finished my Masters, then the wind changed.” You offered with a shrug, “It brought me here.”

He seemed to study you for a few moments before coming to the conclusion that you weren't going to elaborate further. “And what does this Gabriel fellow have to do with the winds of musical theory?”

You snorted indelicately. “Nothing. He just, I don’t know, it sounds stupid now that I try to say it out loud.”

“None of that, now.” The man said gently with the same smirk on his face, “a smart girl like you doesn’t strike me as the type to overreact to male foolishness.”

He seemed honestly interested in your answer, at least, the most interested anyone has ever seemed in your ramblings about your toe headed fellow PhD’er. You tried facetime’ing your friends from home about him many-a-times before, and they listen but they don't get it. And your schedules don’t align and with the time-difference one of you is always either just waking up or going to bed. But this random, handsome guy in your bar making fun of your drinks has done nothing but listen so far and you really wanted to get it off your chest.

So, you did.

You told him how your morning started terribly as you ripped a hole in your stockings and only noticed once you got to campus and you usually don’t dress this formally to campus, but you were guest lecturing for Minerva and you know professors didn’t technically have a dress code, but she always looked well put together so, dammit, so were you. You explained that your mother always was the superstitious type and had you carry an emergency pair on you at all times, so you were thankfully able to change, but only after you spilled coffee on your blazer and had to shrug that off for the day and the lecture halls are ridiculously cold always; you know these stone buildings were built before electricity but surely with the great minds this school has churned out, they could find a way to keep the warm air in and cold drafts out?

And if all that hadn’t been bad enough, the other PhD candidate working under McGonagall is this absolute bell-end that you're almost positive has plagiarized half of his written work because everything he spews is absolute nonsense. He’s rude, and condescending, and spoke over you throughout all of your lectures to wax poetic about different Opera’s he’s performed in across the world - that you swear to God you will fact-check one of these days - that had absolutely nothing to do with the course content. And then, and then, he had the audacity to suggest you were only here because the school was required to accept a minimum number of foreign students and since you were, quote, just a woman, you also checked off their minority requirements too.

“People don’t get accepted here because of their nationality or their gender or their status as a minority. They’re supposed to get here because they’re good.” You muttered, finishing your pint you hadn’t realized you had guzzled during your rant

“And how’d Gavin get in, then?” He asked. You choked on the last of your beer.

“Fucked if I know.” You sighed.

A few more pints were placed in front of you as you continued to rant about the ins and outs of being a scholar in the world of music [for Christ’s sake, what was I thinking? I’ll never work a day in my life.] The man interrupting only to say that switching back to liquor would be a choice you would regret in the morning, and who were you to argue?

And he listened. He scoffed at some parts when you quoted Gilderoy suggesting something ridiculously altruistic that he’d done for the less fortunate while being nothing but condescending, he sprinkled in a few you’re kidding me’s, and even asked you to repeat something he couldn’t fathom the first time.

“See? I knew it. A smart girl like you wouldn’t overreact like that. Sounds like you’re perfectly justified in your ire.” He said.

You hummed as you finished your last pint. You felt thoroughly warm and heavy which was your intention of coming to the pub in the first place. You looked over to notice that the man – whose name you still hadn’t got – was still holding the same drink he had when you first arrived.

“Who are you here waiting for, then?” You asked him.

He looked confused for a moment. “How do you know I wasn’t just in desperate need of a drink myself?”

You nodded toward his still half-full cup in his hand. “Because you really haven’t been drinking.”

He narrowed his eyes and smirked at you. “Observant, aren’t you? Clever girl.” You rolled your eyes at the compliment.

“I was supposed to meet a business associate, actually.” He offered as he looked behind you towards the bar door. You turned to take in the rest of the bar yourself; it didn’t seem like the sort of place one would meet a business associate. The bar was dimly lit and somewhat claustrophobic; it didn’t offer a lot of privacy to talk business. You liked it because it was small - you’d be able to see everyone who was currently in the building with one sweep of your gaze save those who may be in the washrooms, and you could see out onto the street from your seat at the bar.

“I think it might be safe to say they stood you up.” You offered with a smirk as you turned to look back at him, only to find him already looking at you.

“I think you might be right.” He offered, looking you up and down.

You couldn’t help but admit he was quite attractive – and not just in his honey-blond curls and mischievous smirk and long limbs way, but he seemed clever, smart, and clearly he was a good listener. You sort of hoped he’d offer you his name, maybe even his number. You wouldn’t mind waiting around for a business associate of his with him again sometime.

You had no such luck.

He began to stand with an expression that bordered regret crossing his face.

“It appears I must be off.” He offered with a sad smirk as he placed some bills down on the table. You weren't quite familiar with the bills in the UK yet, but it seemed like an awful lot of money for the one drink he had at the bar that was still unfinished. You took notice of said drink as you came to this conclusion and got a weird feeling in your gut as he took the drink by the rim and brought it to his lips.

“Wait!” You said as you grabbed his arm. He tensed immediately and you pulled your hand away as if it burned. “I’m sorry. Just, is that the same drink you had when I first arrived?”

He looked from the drink back to me with furrowed brows. “Yes, why?”

You pointed to the drink he still held in his hand. “It’s old.”

He smirked. “Are you a drink snob, miss orders-two-incompatable-drinks-together-and-drinks-them-at-the-same-time?” You rolled your eyes and snatched the drink out of his hand as he brought it to his lips once again, which earned you an indignant ‘oi!’

“No, you berk, what I mean is, this drink is old. It’s warm to the touch, the ice has all melted and it should be as flat as a board but it’s bubbling, like, a lot.” You said as you held it in front of his eyes. He watched you for a few moments before you continued.

“It looks like someone put something in it.”

His gaze shot back to his drink where, sure enough, his should-be-flat diet coke was fizzing wildly as it began to turn a slightly murky shade.

You watched as he gently plucked the drink from your hand and casually put it back down on the bar and shrugged on his jacket.

“It appears you’re right.” He said in monotone. “Looks like we both ought to take our leave, hm?”

You nodded and followed suit; replacing your jacket and scarf you had ripped off unceremoniously as you had entered and headed for the door. The alcohol made you wobble for but a moment, but you were quickly righted by a gentle hand pressed to your lower back. Mortified, you put your best foot forward and marched out the door, hoping your embarrassment wasn't to evident in your cheeks.

You had to admit, you were beginning to panic. Why were you trusting this man? You had spent the last – you checked your watch – nearly two hours talking to this man whose name you still don’t know completely unaware of what was happening around you, and it turned out that there was someone here drugging drinks.

What if it’s him? An unhelpful part of your brain supplied. Why would he spike his own drink and then almost drink it? You argued back.

“You should be more careful.” You offered in what you had hoped to be a playful manner, but it came out strained. “Do you know of any reason why someone may want to spike your drink?”

He seemed to consider your question as you both walked somewhat briskly down the busy street to the subway station.

“No reason that would be suitable to share in the presence of a lady, I’m afraid.” He offered with a wink, leaning down slightly with his hands in his pocket. This answer didn’t make you feel any better.

“Any particular reason why you’re familiar with the signs of a spiked drink?” He offered back.

“I have a feeling most girls would be able to answer that.”

“Hm, perhaps. But I do not believe all would be as quick to catch it as you were.”

You didn’t answer him; you decided you had shared more than enough with this stranger tonight, and you were officially feeling all sorts of uncomfortable with the situation. You were mostly uncomfortable with how not uncomfortable you felt. It felt easy, walking with this stranger, as if you’ve been walking down dreary streets of London together for ages and this was just another Tuesday.

He stopped suddenly and flagged a taxi. You scowled at how quickly a cab stopped for him and his long as arms.

“Here, it’s too muggy for such a lady to brave the underground.” He offered as he opened the door. You began to protest, you had a tube pass through school for a reason, but his hand was on your lower back again as he gently led you into the car and closed the door before sticking his head in the window of the front passenger seat and tossing a handful of bills at the driver.

“Anywhere she wants to go.” He said, stepping back to the middle of the sidewalk and waving you off.

Between the alcohol, your nerves and being disarmed by the attractiveness of this man, you simply spouted the address of your flat to the driver and turned your face forward. The whole evening seemed otherworldly – like you were missing a big chunk of information of what happened tonight, even though you could account for every minute of it.

Your suspicions would have been proven correct if you had turned around to see your mystery man again, who was now accompanied by two other similarly dressed men - one with an unruly mop of brown curls and a shorter man with long black hair tied back haphazardly - who began chasing a fourth man in earnest down the street in the opposite direction.

Continue to part two here.

#marauders era #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #marauders au #mafia au #reader insert #x reader #self insert #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #short ficlet #marauders are in the mafia #obviously #marauders are a gang #vigilante

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graciereadshannigram · 4 months

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hey fam, welcome to the May 2024 roundup of the best hannigram fics i've read this past month! i read several million words worth of fics, and these were the cream of the crop. i also managed to rewatch the show for the fifth time!! (unemployment has its perks lmao)

as a reminder: the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes. as such, it is incredibly subjective.

you can find past rec lists below:

February March April

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

anyway, in no particular order, let's go!

Overcoming by purefoysgirl

Word Count: 547.5k Summary: A Victorian A/B/O romance in which Hannibal Lecter is the future Duke of Westvale who has been away at war for the past ten years. His Grandfather has made good on a contract made shortly after Hannibal's birth to procure him a wife. It was supposed to be easy. Naturally, with the Omega, Will, given in the place of his twin sister, it is anything but, because if there is one thing Hannibal Lecter despises, it's Omegas.

This fic had me holding back tears when it ended (after sobbing a couple different times). This was... incredible. What a fucking UNDERTAKING this author committed to, and despite this being a doorstopper of a fic, the plot did not miss a single beat. Just... wow. For the love of god, please read this.

Falls the Shadow by littlesystems

Word Count: 72.4k Summary: "You're a psychiatrist," Will says. "Between your personal and professional lives you must have met thousands of people, you must know dozens of different flavors of pathology. Do you know anyone who would take me as I am? Who would be able to love me," he gestures in a sweeping motion, from his messy hair to his stained knee, "just as I am?" "I do." Bedelia's words shock Will into stillness. “Really?” AKA an AU where Bedelia is Will’s psychiatrist instead of Hannibal, Will makes a series of increasingly questionable life choices, and no one should ever take Bedelia’s advice. Ever.

GIMME MORE STARSSSSSSSS. Bedelia as Will's psychiatrist was brilliant, holy shit. And Will understanding Hannibal and completely accepting him? This is something I see so rarely done in fics. Will always makes him be a lot less manipulative, or at least goes through heavy angst over it. But in this? Will was immediately endeared because that's just who Hannibal is.

Bram Stoker's HANNIBAL by DBMars

Word Count: 586.7k Summary: Love Never Dies. "I have crossed oceans of time to find you." Hannibal + Bram Stoker's Dracula + the classic novel = a new version of the seductive vampire legend. Count Hannibal Lecter loses the thing most precious to him -- the love of his life. God is beyond measure in wanton malice, and matchless in his irony. And so Hannibal renounces God, and becomes an immortal monster that feeds on the blood of the living. 400 years after losing his beloved, Count Lecter meets a man who looks exactly like the husband he lost -- reborn and returned. But who could learn to love a monster?

@dbmars you are a fucking genius. I am honestly still processing and figuring out how to communicate just how amazing this fic was. Do yourself a favor and go read it NOW.

the book of jonah by zipegs

Word Count: 18.1k Summary: A sudden breath of hot wind presses through the trees. For a moment, it feels fresh, alive, and then the dust—the pollen—comes along with it, a parasite hitched on the back of the breeze. Will is ravenous. --- After the fall, Will and Hannibal sojourn in a remote, decrepit cabin in South America while they await Chiyoh’s return. But something here is afflicting them, and it’s only getting worse.

Okay, bear with me. THIS WAS FUCKING AMAZING. I haven't felt this way after consuming a piece of media since I watched Guillermo del Toro's The Autopsy episode. Psychological horror mixed with body horror mixed with smut??? I guess that does it for me. I literally can't stop thinking about this fic. It's been two weeks and I am STILL thinking about it.

Wrong by HotMolasses (@snazzymolasses here on tumblr)

Word Count: 4.2k Summary: Will roughly rubbed his arm across his mouth again, trying to rub it off. Rub off the scent of Alana, after they’d kissed. After she’d kissed him. Or he’d kissed her? It was mutual. Until it wasn’t. Until Will breathed in her scent, so familiar, so Alpha, so…wrong. He’d pulled back forcibly, unable to hide the expression of revulsion on his face. “I…I need to go.” he said, sweeping his coat off the back of a chair on his way towards the door. “Lock up when you leave.” The weather was crap, and it probably wasn’t smart to drive in the snow while he was in pre-heat, but Will didn’t know what else to do. He needed to figure this out, he needed to talk to the only person who understood him. He needed to talk to Hannibal.

So ummmmmmm what do I need to do to turn this into like a whole AU?? As always, this was a total home run. Every single bit of it was perfect.

as soft, as wide as air by BlackKnightSatellite

Word Count: 193.9k Summary: After surviving the fall, Will finds he has far fewer hesitations about joining Hannibal than he would have guessed. Character death, but not Will or Hannibal.

Well shit. I read this immediately after a full rewatch of the show (in four days no less) and THIS is my new season 4 canon. It's brilliant and actually reads like a proper season would. And I love how it gives all the characters a concluded story line. Aside from Will and Hannibal. I also loved how much this explored Will's instability and how his mental state would be affected after he finally slung off all the guilt and allowed himself to fully enjoy killing. All around very good.

The Dispersal Method by @victorineb

Word Count: 16.9k Summary: It’s a normal fall day in the forest for Will Graham. Dead body in front of him, cannibal psychiatrist behind him, the usual. Then Will brushes against the wrong flower, and suddenly neither he nor Hannibal can keep their hands off each other. Now, Will must navigate his way out of the crime scene and Jack’s scrutiny while also trying not to jump Hannibal’s bones at every opportunity. Well, one out of three ain’t bad. Set nebulously in s2, post-Will's release from the BSHCI. Will’s a conflicted honeypot, Hannibal’s a (not-so) secretly-besotted asshole, and nobody has brought enough lube.

THIS IS THE BEST SEX POLLEN I'VE EVER READ. Seriously. The BEST out of pretty much any fandom (at least so far).

Between the Shadow and the Soul by raiast

Word Count: 48.7k Summary: When Will decides to stop taking his suppressants neither he nor Hannibal can deny the attraction between them. After nearly a decade of running from his biology, Will is faced with his primitive Omega urges full force. As if navigating his hormones wasn't enough, there is a killer at large with a very specific motive that seems to only be targeting preteen boys.

This might be my new favorite ABO fic? And one of the better case fics out there.

Sleepover by EarthsickWithoutYou

Word Count: 70k Summary: Set in Season 1, after "Fromage." Will is still confused about his kiss with Alana and seeks romantic advice on how to date and be more "smooth" from Hannibal. Little does he know that Hannibal is madly, passionately obsessed with him, and desperately jealous. Needless to say, Dr. Lecter is all too happy to teach Will everything he knows about love and dating.

This was pretty fluffy, tender, and fun, and it was exactly what I needed after finishing a heavier fic

Alana Finds Out by @victorineb

Word Count: 32.1k Summary: A series of one-shots in which Alana Bloom discovers, in the midst of various tropes, that her boyfriend Hannibal Lecter's feelings for Will Graham run far deeper than friendship. Basically a chance for Alana to shout at the pair of emotionally-repressed idiots whilst still indulging in much Hannigram loveliness.

Oh I loved all of this. This scratched that itch in my brain that loves when Alana realizes that Hannibal has wanted Will all along. And some of these one-shots are genuinely hysterical. Love.

Doctor's Orders by JSinister32

Word Count: 29.2k Summary: “He’s dead on his feet, Jack. I do not understand how you allowed him to come when he’s so obviously ill. There have been too many hours in service of your needs, so many that it seems to have affected any sleep that he may have gotten over the past few weeks. From what you and I have discussed, he has a difficult time shutting his mind down under the best of circumstances and this case today has clearly gotten to him.” The doctor stepped closer to the profiler, peering into his eyes as Will tried to focus. “Will? Can you hear me?” Will Graham has never been particularly good at taking care of himself. When he comes down with a severe cold while working on a string of murders, the new psychiatrist on retainer, Doctor Hannibal Lecter, offers to care for him. Will he be able to keep his feelings in check while Hannibal is in his home? Hannibal Lecter can't get the profiler working for the Violent Crimes unit out of his mind. When given the opportunity to care for him when he's ill, will his feelings for the other man come to light?

TENDER. I want like 70k more words of this. Especially Hannibal putting Jack in his place. Especially Hannibal washing Will's hair. Mmm. There's just something so good about Will letting Hannibal take care of him.

The First Condition of Immortality is Death by OneHandedBooks

Word Count: 92.5k Summary: Hannibal’s heart stopped for the first time after he’d dragged himself and Will out of the frigid ocean onto the rocky shore at the bottom of the bluff.

Oh this was GOOD. Very tender, good characterizations, and loved how Will's hallucinations were portrayed. This was just all a really good exploration of how their relationship could have progressed. This author also is incredibly good at showing the scenes in a way that I could watch them unfold in my head. This felt like a crystal clear movie.

What Do The Dead Know? by OneHandedBooks

Word Count: 7.6k Summary: He looks up at her, haloed by the sun. She could be anyone. No one. St. Abigail, patron of lilies and last chances. AU: What if Will joined Hannibal willingly after the Uffizi Gallery and they shared a few tense weeks in the world before Mason's men finally ran them down? In which Will writes, hallucinates, and succumbs to the dark side and Hannibal is a manipulative, brainwashing, bastard.

cw: Abigail/Will. But does it really count if it's a dream sequence? Regardless, this was something else, off the charts, big fan. The author NAILED the hallucinatory vibe that made this entire fic work so so well. Also, just Will working through his grief for Abigail this way made it that much more intense.

chimera of the chapel by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 211.5k Summary: When Will Graham wakes up from a coma three months after the fall, Jack reveals that Hannibal Lecter didn't survive. Outside the realm of Hannibal's influence, Will decides to discover the full truth behind the world's sudden and seeming falsehood. Everybody seems to hold their own opinion on Hannibal's fate, but Will knows better than anyone that trust and honesty are as elusive as death.

The "presumed dead" trope might just be my new obsession. I adored this fic so much, the plot was incredible, the development of their relationship was spot on, and there were just some very tender moments.

wear my silence like a mask by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 32.k Summary: After running into Hannibal at a Bass Pro Shop, Will is invited to a Masquerade Ball at his estate. Jack encourages him to attend for an opportunity to catch the Ripper. Extenuating circumstances tempt Will down an even graver path; Romance with the Ripper.

Three words: masked anonymous sex. That's all.

The Voices and the Shadows by darlinghogwarts, MaddyHughes

Word Count: 114.6k Summary: “The Chesapeake Ripper? The serial killer? That's a grisly thing to find at the bottom of a drink. Most people say oblivion ...or possibly sex.” Hannibal sips his wine again. “Why are you thinking about a murderer on your birthday, Will? Is it part of your degree?” “He is a part of my degree by my own choice. My supervisor didn’t approve, but…” He sighs. “I insisted.” AU where Will—a Masters student studying the Chesapeake Ripper—gets drunk on his birthday and meets an intriguing man at the bar.

Man, I wish I had had Hannibal as my thesis supervisor in grad school, hot damn. (Mine was pretty much too busy to help with anything, ended up doing it all myself – would not recommend.) This was was damn near perfect. I needed some good old fashioned angst. With a good and fluffy ending. This was a good AU!

Chasing Thoroughbreds by HigherMagic

Word Count: 42.8k Summary: After the fall, Chiyoh rescues Will and Hannibal and takes them to the Lecter home in Lithuania. When Hannibal wakes up, his memories of everything - Will, being the Ripper, everything since Mischa's death - are gone. Will's only problem with that is that killing Hannibal won't be nearly as satisfying if he doesn't understand why. Wrestling with his own feelings, or what's left in the tattered mess of them after the fight with Dolarhyde, Will stays, hoping that Hannibal will recover and give him the opportunity he's waiting for. But there are others who remember what Hannibal did, all those years ago, and they have their own bone to pick.

Ugh pretty sure I love almost everything HigherMagic writes and this did not disappoint. This was fantastic. I was absolutely captivated by Will's development through this and Hannibal was just as good.

Volto Larva by TreacleA

Word Count: 39k Summary: Will is having trouble unwinding after work. Hannibal helpfully suggests somewhere that may assist with that, with absolutely no ulterior motive whatsoever.

So ummmm I'm still blushing (in the best way) over parts of this fic because FUCK this is scorching. Anyway. That's all I've got to say LOL.

#hannigram #hannigram recs #hannigram fics #fic recs #hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham #murder husbands #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #nbc hannibal #hannibal tv show #hannibal nbc #fannibals #dracula au #bram stoker's hannibal #overcoming fic #gracie reads hannigram

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cherryblossomwriting · 7 months

Text

Morning Whispers

Summary: Harry’s raspy morning voice turns Y/N on

W.C: 719

Warnings: None, just mentions of oral sex

Tags: Singer!Boyfriend!Harry x Girlfriend!Y/n

The rays of sunshine falling through the mesh curtain like sprinkles of glitter. Watching the sun shine on a winter morning is the best feeling ever. But you know what's even better than that… having a man with a face chiselled with features handcrafted by the gods of ancient Greece sleeping right next to you on the same bed. The irony between the soft sunlight kissing his manly face that seems to have aged like fine wine with wisdom, oh how she envied the sun. His eyebrows always seem to quiver while he is relaxed in his sweet slumber. She knows how stressful the last couple weeks have been for him. Harry is planning his next world tour, she is extremely happy for her boyfriend however it has taken a toll on his mental health. She can’t help but stare at the butterfly tattoo on his abs that move rhythmically with each breath. These were the moments she lived for. The feeling where the world goes quiet, a sense of absolute serenity… a little world of their own, just her and Harry. Sometimes it's hard for her to believe that the moment she is experiencing is actually true. A dream came true. She could never get enough of him. Y/N cant help but smile as she watches his lips slightly pout in his sleep, a habit he has that she noticed from the very beginning of their relationship. Even now, after 3 years into their relationship, it makes her smile at how innocent he looks while he sleeps. She moves her face closer to his and gives him a small kiss on his lip. Moving her hands into his hair just to massage them lightly.

His eyes slowly open as he tries to adjust to the bright sunlight. He smiles as he watches the love of his life staring at him like he is the only man she has ever seen. Anyone watching them from far away could say that they love each other to death. Harry pulls Y/N into a deep, passionate kiss to start the day on a good note. “Good mornin’, my sweet pea,” he says in his deep, raspy morning voice. “Oh, Im fucked,” she thinks to herself. If someone asked her what motivates her to get up in the morning. She sure would answer by saying “just to hear his morning voice”. Harry has always had a deep yet calming voice, however, his voice tends to get extra deep in the morning. It resembles his raw, sexual masculinity. However, Y/n's voice tends to be the exact opposite of Harry’s. Soft, delicate and fragile. This is because most mornings her voice is gone due to shouting and moaning Harry’s name all night.

“You know how much I love you right, darling?” He speaks with care and love in his voice. The deadly combination of his sweet words of affirmation and his alluring, sensual voice gets Y/n’s mind in a spiral. He never fails to mention how much he loves her first thing in the morning. “I know. I love you too. A little too much right now,” she says in her soft voice. “Yeah, why is that?” he asks, knowing the reason very well. A few months into the relationship he realised how much his morning voice turned her on. Although she never confirmed it, he knew very well. “You know very well baby” she replies back. He just hums back and pulls her into his chest. Her back touching his chest. He sprinkles small kisses on her neck and kisses her a little longer on the spot that he knows is extremely sensitive. Leaving a small mark for him to admire later on in the day. He drags his hand on her waist down to her naked stomach, rubbing small circles. Y/N usually sleeps in her cute, crop tops and shorts while Harry sleeps only in his boxers. Harry positions Y/N on her back as he gets on his knees. She knows exactly what he is going to do and to say she was excited (in both ways;)) was an understatement. She gasps as he pulls her shorts down. He spanks her inner right thigh and groans and murmurs “Now hush, let daddy have his breakfast in peace.”

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Let me know your view in the comments below!

Lots of Love

xoxo

#harry x reader #harry styles #smut #writing #female reader #fluff #harry styles fandom #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry fluff #harry edward styles

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1000sunnygo · 10 months

Text

Trafalgar D. Water Law: Whats the significance of Water?

Gonna be a long one, you can scroll down to TLDR below.

Many of us know that the spelling of Water in Law's name isn't the actual katakana spelling of the liquid water, ウォーター (Wo-ta-), which follows the classic British pronunciation. Instead, it's a new word ワーテル (Wa-teru), which combining with "Law" (written as "Ro, ロー" in Japanese) makes the correct Japanese spelling for "Waterloo (ワーテルロー)".

Big Mom's hat is named "Napoleon", the irony.

For the sake of separation from water, let's call it "Watel" for now.

It may not be that deep. "Waterloo" could be a simple pun Oda came up with on a whim, but the scene leaves a bit of mystery. Law was abruptly cut off while talking with Baby 5 and Buffalo. And the pun only works in Law's name; it wouldn't work on, say, his sister Lami's name.

Also, for Law to uncover the mystery of his checkered fate, it'd make sense that his character arc is leading to finding the history of his own bloodline.

Trafalgar family happens to be the only family of Ds with an extra hidden name so there's something going on. Unfortunately, Law is the only surviving member of Trafalgar family and he knows nothing about it. Now it's up to him to restore his family's lost knowledge.

Law says "Watel" is 忌み名, a "secret name."

The word 忌み名 (imina) is an uncommon word, Japanese readers needed to do some dictionary digging too. "Imi" (忌み) means abstinence, taboo, religious purification; "na" 名 means name. Imina can be defined as a pure name, or a taboo name.

There's an old Japanese article speculating about Law's name, here's a passage from it:

The term "忌み名" encompasses meanings such as "given name for a person of high status," "title bestowed based on achievements during one's lifetime," and "name used for the deceased person." If Watel is a "忌み名" meaning a "given name for a person of high status," it might trace back to Law's ancestors, possibly connecting to nobility. Therefore, online discussions include speculations like "Were Law's ancestors individuals of considerable status?" or "Could they have been part of the royalty?"

To clarify what it meant with "the name given to a deceased person", I've read some articles about "imina", so let me share what I understood. It's an additional knowledge unrelated to Law's name, I'll explain why afterwards.

Names are often believed to be linked to spirituality, like how you can't exorcise a devil without its name, or use voodoo dolls on a person without knowing their name. In old Japan and China, sometimes two names were given to a person. One is the name that is shared with everyone, other is their taboo name 忌み名 'imina' - that is kept hidden within the family. This name relates to the person's spirituality.

忌み also means pure. As spirit world is linked to deities and gods, and dead body is considered impure. A person would be called in their imina or pure name when the person dies and become a spirit. It was forbidden to call a person using their imina during their lifetime, and to refer to them in their human world name after their death.

The parents gave their children a good 'imina' for their better future. A child with 'imina' has a connection with their spirituality, and by knowing that name, they were believed to have some control over their future.

According to this classic definition, a living person is never called in their imina which is their spirit's name, and it wouldn't be tucked into their real name. For Law to have an 'imina', rather than as his spiritual name, it is implied that his family carried Watel as a secret title that become part of a name over the generations.

From the theories I've read about Law's name, here's a common ground most of them agreed on:

D is a name shared among many people from The Ancient Kingdom, whereas the name Watel specifies a title given to a specific bloodline, for a yet unknown reason.

The theory that D's aren't a single bloodline became more apparent over time, it's now believed to be a codename that was passed down regardless of their ethnicity and family history (ie. Queen Lily who didn't belong to ancient kingdom) - only thing common among them is that they're the enemies of "gods", aka Celestial Dragons.

So who were the Watel? Throwing in my personal theory....

I think Trafalgar family didn't belong to the Ancient Kingdom. Rather, they were affiliates of the Neferteri Family that took the name "D".

There are some similarities between Trafalgar and Neferteri families.

Both of these families are the only D's that kept their names hidden, implying that their ancestors could retain some knowledge of the void century (unlike other Ds who seem to know nothing of D's significance, which means the truth of their bloodline was completely suppressed from being passed down). How could these two families survive the complete purge of knowledge? By never belonging to the ancient kingdom.

Both Neferteri and Trafalgar families are loosely attached to the classic "D" characteristics, to the point you can't immediately associate them to being D's. Rather than bringing a wave of change themselves, they're particularly interested about learning the history. Notably Cobra and Law.

Here's the headcanon territory.

The two families probably had connections in the past through two people: Queen Neferteri Lily and a Trafalgar who we don't know yet.

How were they connected? Couldn't be marriage, as the family names weren't exchanged.

Doctor and Patient, perhaps?

Watel was a title given to the Trafalgar by Queen Lily. That's where the 'title connected to royalty' of imina comes from.

The word Watel (ワーテル) doesn't have a meaning per se, but I can push it a little in meta direction.

The more convincing theory is that it's a wordplay, Watel = War Tale (in japanese it only needs a space in the middle of the word) similar to Raftel = Laugh tale. Probably a title given for the heroic activities of Trafalgars during the war between the Celestials and the Ancient Kingdom.

A less convincing theory is that Watel's close alternative "Water" goes in combination with "Lily" to form Water Lily. We know that Arabasta is based on Egypt, and Water Lily in Egyptian culture has a great significance and connection to sun. Maybe the Queen's gesture of respect was to give a title that would combine with her name.

Reminder that Law's name also has a 'combination pun', Waterloo.

This is the only ancient doctor that has been mentioned in One Piece. Possibly the same doctor - that'd tie up most loose thread together. Too convenient? hasn't stopped Oda until now, has it?

Doctor Trafalgar possessed the power of ope ope no mi and performed many miracle operations, Queen Lily hired them for their skill and talent, giving them a royal title. Both Lily and the doctor took the codename "D" to support the people from Ancient Kingdom who were rebelling against Imu and the Celestials.

Doctor Trafalgar discovered the fruit's potential of performing a perennial youth surgery, an information that was intercepted by Nerona Imu. The doctor was kidnapped and forced to perform the surgery on him, the process taking thier life.

Alternative could be that Watel was the given name of the doctor and Trafalgar family simply carry it as a tribute to them, remembering their connection to a royal family and an inevitable sacrifice.

The fruit returning to the same family, to another Trafalgar who has yet to confront Imu as a D to find the history of their family - would truly affirm that Law's life is "checkered." It'd be poetic for Law to play a key role in Imu's downfall. lHopefully without putting his own life at risk.

Rosinante believed Law is kept alive as if by a divine force. He must have a role to play.

TL;DR

- Law's secret family name Watel is an 'imina', in his own words, which signifies that it's a secret title passed down by his ancestors.

- Similar to Neferteri Family, Trafalgar Family are D's who didn't belong to the ancient kingdom and thus survived the purge of knowledge, able to withhold some knowledge and keep the D in their names hidden over generations.

-The ancestors of both of these families took the codename 'D' like people from ancient kingdom to support their action against Imu, even though they didn't belong to the ancient kingdom themselves.

-Watel was either the royal title or the given name of a Trafalgar who worked under/with Neferteri Lili, and was likely a doctor who possessed and discovered the immortality operation of Ope Ope no mi.

-The said doctor was forced to grant perpetual youth to Imu, dying in the process. Trafalgar family carry 'Watel' in their names as a tribute to the fallen ancestor.

-Law having the same fruit as his fallen ancestor is the truth of his checkered fate. It's possible that he will be involved in taking down Imu.

#one piece theory #one piece theories #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #one piece #nerona imu #will of d #nefertari lili #nefertari cobra #charlotte linlin #ope ope no mi #mine #one piece meta #trafalgar law meta

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lilyginnyblackv2 · 2 years

Text

Buddy Daddies - Episode 7 - Thought Post - Extra Stuff! - SPOILERS!

A few small tid-bit stuff that I liked or thought interesting in the episode.

1. Rakuzon:

They combined Rakuten (a Japanese-based Amazon like site) with Amazon, lol. That got a good chuckle out of me!

2. I want pizza!

One of the ladies Kazuki is with says, “I want pizza!”

Kazuki responds with, “Aw, that’s for poor people!” And he tells her to order sushi. Then there is a transition to Miri sneezing. This works as both a way to show Miri having a cold (a great call back to Episode 1′s opening scene, where Rei didn’t take her having sniffles seriously) and as a way to show the whole “sneeze when someone is talking about you” superstition in Japan. Kazuki is out here basically call Rei and Miri “poor people,” despite the irony of Rei being actually rich and Kazuki not. Which also fits back into one of his character personality traits of trying hard to be showy and trying to appear rich.

3. Open Umbrella Indoors

Speaking of superstitions, Japan doesn’t have one for opening umbrellas indoors equating to bad luck. You don’t realize how culturally ingrained stuff like this really is until you live in a culture that is very different in ways like this. Like, when I lived in Japan, I eventually got used to not saying anything when people sneezed, but I could never bring myself to open an umbrella up when inside a building. That was just like, “Nope, can’t chance it regardless.” lol

4. “And an order of fries.”

Rei just straight up doing the opposite of what Kazuki would do when ordering the pizza (Miri, “Papa Kazuki says we need veggies!” Rei: “And an order of fries.”).

5. “We’ve been abandoned.”

Also, Rei, you don’t just tell little kids that you’ve been abandoned! T0T This is another one of those moments where Rei kinda treats Miri like an equal, instead of the child in his care, when he really really shouldn’t. Goodness!

6. Kazuki’s Eyes:

This is something I noticed all the way back in Episode 1 too. But I’m glad they’ve been consistent with this detail. In the flashbacks, Kazuki’s eyes are drawn a bit bigger, so he looks younger and also more innocently naïve.

7. Umbrella and Bike Riding:

Rei asks Miri where he umbrella is. She tells him it is broken. It should be noted that riding a bike while using an umbrella is technically against the law. But everyone does it anyway, lol.

8. Rei in Different Outfits:

We got to see Rei wearing a bunch of different shirts and pants in this week’s episode. As well as wearing Kazuki’s apron! *-*

9. Miri Manipulating Her Cuteness:

Kazuki and Rei are really going to have to watch out for this tactic!

#Buddy Daddies #Rei Suwa #Miri Unasaka #Kazuki Kurusu #BD spoilers #Buddy Daddies spoilers #long post #image heavy post #thought post #meta post

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sugarpasteltmnt · 1 month

Note

Remembering these guys are all adults now and just chanted “SNACKS!” like silly kids all the way home

Its so sweet

Im crying youre making me cry

The fact that this fic started with sad mandarin oranges and ended (kinda) with happy mandarin oranges. The fruitsbeing offered to the dead at the start and instead being eaten and shared by the living now.

I’m-

The contrast is killing me man

combining these because they are so charming and funny I LOVE THEM TEEHEE THANK U 🩵

hehe i'm so glad you noticed the irony >:3c i really liked this one shot it was very fun and sweet to write 💞

#obsessed with the first one omg he's just a little guy #so dang CUTE!!!#hehe thank you so much!! i'm so glad you liked it!!!#TNV Ending Spoilers #Purgatory Paradise #TNV asks #TNV Final Chapters Spoilers

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colleybri · 3 months

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One of the greatest hugs in any film

Interview question: “Do you think Cassian and Jyn would have managed to connect even more due to their shared life experiences if they had even more time?”

Diego Luna: “Obviously! What a good question. I think that hug represents everything that could have been but was not and everything that was too, because that hug meant they were part of something together and I believe that union lasts forever”.

One of the single best story decisions that was made in Rogue One was this incredible hug between Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor, as they await death from the blast of the Death Star.

It’s sad enough just in the context of the film. After Season 1 of Andor, it’s even more moving. I think some of us will be emotional wrecks after Season 2.

One thing I’m starting to realise only now is how Jyn’s story, as revealed in the film (and the novelisation), reflects Cassian’s so much. She was also a child of war, displaced and effectively orphaned, adopted before being forced to embark on a new life. She had it even worse than him, in many ways. But just like him she had an early zeal to fight, which she similarly went on to lose because of the bitter pain that commitment caused. She becomes disillusioned and cynical about the Rebellion. It takes a combination of hard knocks and a resulting realisation of the desperate NEED to fight the Empire - in order to preserve all that they hold dear - to radicalise both of them to the extent that they are willing to sacrifice their lives for the cause.

Cassian is already in that place - he reached it five years before. But in Season 2 I expect we will see further challenges, see the desperately awful things he might have to do and what else he will need to sacrifice ahead of his actual life. Sacrifices that wear down his soul, bit by bit. Luthen’s monologue hangs over everything. “ I burn my life for a sunrise I know I’ll never see.” It’s a bitter irony that Cassian is frequently placed in sun-rising imagery, culminating in the ‘sun’ of the explosion.

Jyn, in Rogue One, seems to be the spiritual shot in the arm that Cassian needs. In the same way that being inspired by his love for Clem, Maarva and Bix helps to spur him on in the Season 1 finale (when the chances of successfully rescuing Bix must seem non-existent) Jyn seems to me to be the crucial reminder for Cassian of why he is doing all this in the first place. Her love for her father stops him from obeying the order to kill him. He just can’t do it. He can’t put someone he is growing to care about through the same agony he went through himself.

In the end, neither can live with themselves if they don’t fight. But both of them are fighting for the right reason: love.

The hug is platonic and therefore perfect because it’s universal, in a way: we can imagine - in their final seconds - that they can both see and feel the warmth and the arms of every single person in their lives who they ever loved in any form: parents, siblings, lovers, friends. And of course they also die feeling the arms of each other - bound together by their fight and sacrifice but also an embrace with someone they might have gone on to know, and to love, if the universe had been a kinder place.

It’s one of the most perfect and beautiful death scenes in any film I’ve seen.

But it’s also heart-crushingly sad.

‘What could have been’.

…..

Edit:

I think the earlier elevator scene is where they acknowledge the loss of what they could have had together. Cassian stares at Jyn with unblinking focus but he looks like he’s dying already from his injuries, and Jyn - not yet knowing for sure that she’s about to die too - looks completely devastated. By the time they reach the beach and see the blast approaching both of them look accepting of their fate… and I imagine that they can use their final moments to internally say their spiritual goodbyes to everyone they ever loved in their lives - and to each other. They are content to die together. They are at peace as they “become one with the Force”.

….

The sand is coarse on his fingers as he tightens the embrace and closes his eyes. Her face had been that of the last being he will see, and he is at peace with that. After all, she had already started to mend his broken soul and remind him of why he was doing all this in the first place.

Love.

She is warm against him, her grip intensifying his physical pain, and intensifying whatever is going on now in his soul. They hug as if in the hope of keeping each other whole, the hope of somehow stopping the inevitable coming-apart. Almost as if to stop time and be forever in this state of in-between.

But there is no time at all.

So he thinks he will imagine that the light is coming from her, her bright spirit - her hot molten core - soldering and melting them into one being.

‘I don’t know where you end or where it is that I begin.’

Extract above from ‘Dawn Chorus’ chapter 5:

Diego Luna interview:

’ I don’t know where you end or where it is that I begin’ - from the song ‘Vision’ by Peter Hammill.

#andor #cassian andor #star wars andor #rogue one #jyn erso #jyn x cassian #diego luna #star wars #death scene #make every hug count #these beautiful characters died so well #I love their deaths #but I also hate that they died and wanted them to live #what might have been #andor fic #rogue one fic

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weirdmageddon · 1 year

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some thoughts on dave lalonde

so note this isn’t a kidswap au, just a strilonde guardian swap au; a plausible au wherein dave’s meteor(s) are set to land in upstate new york and rose’s in houston tx where they are discovered by mom lalonde and bro strider respectively. so it’s not even really an “alternative universe” so much as “alternative circumstance” because that’s literally all that changes

their interests aren’t swapped; their interests are a natural result of a mix of what they were always predisposed towards (we can look at their post-scratch versions for constants) combined with their living environment. rose strider is still gothy and writes, knits, and has an interest in the zoologically dubious. perhaps rose might handcraft some delirious puppets for her brother-slash-ectofather’s enterprise as a “gift” in one-upmanship. probably has good rapport with the crows that fly into her ironic knockoff disney-princess themed bedroom (see the post i linked above) and get them to fuck with bro passively in exchange for peanuts. she also keeps all the things the crows gift her, pickpocketed shiny things and whatnot

dave lalonde is still the knight of time, still makes sbahj, likes photography, still loves cooking up unbelievably ill jams, still into post-ironic expression, however he’s not irony-poisoned by bro so he’s more comfortable being genuine. his interest in dead things and paleontology comes more to a forefront because of mom’s predilection towards science and genuine encouragement from her. after all she’s made many a mutant kitten herself

i feel like since dave fell to earth with maplehoof, crushing the pony instantly on impact, instead of using its hide to make a bib like a fucking weirdo, mom would paradox clone maplehoof. so dave has a pet pony with a ribbon and little pink heart on it. a knight needs a loyal steed. and hes been attached to maplehoof since his literal first few minutes of existing. so maplehoof wouldnt be bought anywhere, it would originate from itself

i mean he’s seen with the pony at his side in the post-scratch universe so…..

would make sense if the pony mom gifted to rose in canon was more of an involved thing with dave in this circumstance

the only issue is maplehoof cant become his sprite, otherwise that would break the timeloop (they need to come unaltered to earth with dave on the meteor in the first place during the reckoning). also [S] Ride with dave and the scarf would absolutely be a thing at some point

i was thinking maybe instead of a crow, since they aren’t as “everywhere” in upstate new york as they are in that high rise in texas, dave has something more prehistoric put into a sprite. like a parave theropod. can you imagine parave davesprite. maybe an archaeopteryx or something

i guess mom would indulge in a living museum/zoo for “domesticated” ancient organisms all jurassic parked like a weird ongoing experiment but the ectobiology wouldnt be perfect especially because the dna wouldnt be able to be fully read from fossils and specimens. i feel like jurassic park should be dave lalonde’s sort of in-universe media reference the way con air was with john and putting the bunny back in the box. like his friends would just rip on him for living out jurassic park in an imperfect domestic way

and he accidentally kills it through some fetch modus shenanigans. dave still has the bladekind strife specibus but not because he does rooftop battles but because swords are unironically cool, and flings it out the window by accident and it strikes one of the parave theropods in the enclosed zoo below outside his window and dave feels kinda bad

when jade sees it as his server player shes like “oh nooooo :(“ and dave is like “oh god no dont put that in the seizure kernel while i take a piss in one of the many fancy bathrooms this household has”

#homestuck #strilonde guardian swap #dave lalonde #rose strider #hs #homestuck meta #however i dont know what dave(sprite) would have prototyped his sprite with before going back #because lil cal isnt there #but also john and jade would be dead so hed have to go back anyway #so i guess it doesnt really matter what doomed dave prototypes

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softestqueeen · 11 months

Note

ghost🙏😍

it's yours, princess

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader x König (Call of Duty)

summary: On a mission with König and Ghost you have to stay at a safe house. The only problem – there is only one bed.

warnings: : 18+ MDNI!! smut, knife play, threesome (kinda), slight voyeurism, p in v sex, face fucking, porn without plot, cunnilingus, breeding, praise kink, degradation kink (yes, I am aware of the irony), pet names (princess), finger fucking, slight hand kink, masturbating, dirty talk

wordcount: 4256 words

a/n: This is a request from a friend. I've really enjoyed writing something longer and something with kinks I've never really explored! Enjoy <3

Finally, after being on your longest mission so far, you were relieved to be finally at your safe house. The mission is not yet over, but as long as you got some sleep, it didn’t matter to you. Everything that mattered to you right now, was the image of finally getting into a very soft bed, that was currently going through your mind.

“There it is! But it does look kinda small, don’t you think?”, the British man next to you remarked.

And here’s the reason why this mission was so incredibly exhausting. Instead of your regular partners you are on a mission with Simon “Ghost” Riley and König. The men you despised most on this planet.

Because of his paranoia König was still looming around somewhere in the woods, checking for possible threats. But you didn’t mind, every second spent less with one of them, was one second that you could relax a bit more.

The two of them were thick as thieves, but you never liked them. They always thought they were better than everybody else and picked on you because of your size and mostly because of the fact that you were female – the only female on the team to be precise.

They thought that this minor detail defined you and everything you did. That you were weaker than them and just on the team out of pity. Also, they never called you by your name but always called you ‘princess’, because they thought you were getting a special treatment, even though you didn’t. And sometimes – especially in your first days – hearing stuff like that could get under your skin. So, you decided that you would give them the same treatment they gave you.

You didn’t answer Ghosts question, but instead just kept on walking to what would be your private heaven for the next twelve hours.

In hindsight, Ghost did in fact have a point. That house looked very small for three bedrooms. In fact, it looked like it could barely fit one very small room, a kitchenette, and a shower if you’re lucky. But the idea of a bed sounded too good at the moment, so you didn’t pay this minor detail any more thought.

You wish you did.

The moment you entered the house, your worst fears were confirmed.

You stepped into the living space which had a couch, a counter with a microwave on top, a refrigerator next to it, a table with only two (!) chairs and two doors. You froze in the entry, but after someone made a very unhappy noise behind you, you snapped out of it and stepped further into the room, which combined kitchen, dining room, living room and hell.

But you told yourself, there was still hope that behind one of these still closed doors was an oasis waiting for you.

You turned the doorknob on the first one and entered a bathroom that had as much charm as the kitchen. A rusty sink, a shower, and a toilet. The shower didn’t even have a curtain and you could sit on the toilet, shower, and wash your hands at the same time. You felt like you were about to cry. You could already feel the tears prickling behind your eyes at the realisation that not only you had to live in this shithole, but you had to share it with you your two colleagues who are essentially two mountains of meat.

You got out of the “bathroom” again before closing the door behind you with a sigh. Ghost wandered the small room. Even though you couldn’t see his face through his mask, you could feel the frustration radiating from him.

You choose to ignore him and entered the other room.

Oh-oh.

The room was small, really small. Two people would count as a crowd in there. The worst – there was only one bed. It was king sized at least, but it still meant one of you had to sleep on the shabby couch that probably wouldn’t even fit your smaller frame.

The worst was that you already knew who would have to take the piss and sleep on the couch. There was no way one of the men would give up their place for you. You could feel a tear escaping your eye and running down your cheek before you angrily wiped it away and quickly collected yourself.

You could hear a dissatisfied grunt from the kitchen/living room/dining room which made you leave the most depressing bedroom you’ve ever seen.

You could see that Ghost had rummaged through the one cabinet and only found one of those cheap TV-dinners that you could just pop into the microwave. You just realised that the “kitchen” didn’t even have a sink and that you would have to use the one in the bathroom.

Could this day even get any worse?

Ghost was still standing there with the TV-dinner in his gloved hand, looking at you. He could see your face fall and if you could see his face, you could see that he did the exact same thing.

You were shocked when Ghost put the frozen meal on the desk in front of you and nudged it into your direction. “It’s yours, princess”, he stated while looking into your eyes. Was it even possible for Ghost to be nice?

You were literally stunned into silence before you realised that a thank you would be appropriate now. “Th- Thank you! We could also share it though. Not even I would get full of this, so it’s better if everyone eats at least a little bit.”

For a moment the two of you were silent, just looking into each others’ eyes. Maybe you didn’t hate each other, maybe you just got off on the wrong foot.

Suddenly Ghost went around the desk between you and stood in front of you. You looked into each others’ eyes and before you could think about it, you said “There’s only one bed.”

Very vell done, that will definitely loosen up the tension between you. Not.

“Well, what now?” Ghost was so close you could feel his breath on your face, even through the balaclava he wore under his mask.

“Someone has to sleep on the couch, if you can even call it that.” You didn’t even know anymore what you were talking about. His scent enveloped you and made your knees get weak.

He lifted his gloved hands and you almost flinched at the action. He rolled up his balaclava, so his lips were free before he roughly pulled you in by the hips and kissed you.

You froze before you realised what’s happening. Ghost was kissing you. On the lips. You came back to your senses and started kissing him back. You put your hands on his chest and could feel his muscles even through his tactical gear.

You moaned into his mouth, which gave him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You wrapped your hands around his neck and pressed yourself against him. Your broke away for a second to breathe and think about what the actual fuck you were doing right now.

Your literal enemy kissed you and you just let it happen. And even though your mind was still sceptical, your body had clear intentions.

So, deciding that this felt actually way better than you would’ve expected, you dived right back in and pressed your lips against his again.

You had to stand on your tiptoes and strain your neck to be on eye level with Ghost, so he lifted you by the hips like you were a bag of feathers and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist while he supported your weight by grabbing your ass.

At feeling his hands on your ass, you let another moan slip into his mouth. This new position also made you feel his growing errection against your still clothed pussy.

You could feel yourself getting wetter at the feeling of his body against yours and the incredible feeling of his kisses didn’t help either.

Ghost decided that he wanted to take things further and carried you into the bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. You had a slight idea where this was going, but you decided that there was something more important at the moment.

He laid you down on the bed, covering your smaller frame with his bigger one, without breaking the kiss once. He was driving you insane. You let your hands wander over his body again, feeling only his strong muscles. You went further down his body and palmed his errection through his trousers. At his size you let out a sigh and started humping against his groin.

But before you got the chance to touch him further, he took both your wrists in one of his hands and pressed them over your head. You let out a gasp before Ghost tsked you. “I’m calling the shits here, princess.”

You didn’t think getting any more turned on was possible but here you where, drenching your panties because of a man you despised just ten minutes ago.

He kissed you again before caressing your body again. He palmed your breasts before squeezing them, making you moan again.

He started to open your tactical suit but couldn’t get too far with just one hand. He straddled your hips, being careful not to put too much of his weight onto you and let go of your wrists.

He gave you a stern look, signalling that even though he let go of your hands, you’re still not allowed to touch him.

You obeyed his silent demand and watched him take out his knife. You stared at the knife and then at his face. Was this all just a trick to put you in a position where he could easily hurt you?

“Do you trust me princess?”, he wanted to know while twisting the knife, making it reflect the light.

One word could literally shatter this moment and both of you were aware of it. He didn’t just ask you because of the knife, but because of all the things he’s going to do to you. The thought of that warmed your hearth but also made you a bit giddy from excitement.

But even through your uncertainty you didn’t have to think long about your answer.

“Yes.” It didn’t take more for him. He took the knife and cut your suit open, slightly grazing the skin with the tip of the knife, making a chill run down your spine.

You leaned forward so your top fell from your body. He didn’t let your sports bra stop him either, and quickly cut through it.

He leaned back and just looked at your now exposed breasts for a moment. Your nipples were hard, and a thin layer of sweat covered your skin. You couldn’t make out his face since it was still covered by his mask. The only thing that made him seem human at the moment was the rising and falling of his chest, which was slightly out of rhythm.

“Fuck are you beautiful princess. Even better than I imagined.”, he murmured under his breath more to himself, but still loud enough or you to hear it.

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did he really just admit that he imagined you naked before? A blush crept onto your face at his words but also at that thought. Seeing the blush on your face, Ghost noticed his mistake. He didn’t want to say that aloud, but his mouth apparently had a different plan. Realising that, a blush also crept on the British mans face, though he would never admit it and you couldn’t see it because of his mask.

He quickly overcame his shock and remembered that he was on top of you. He let the blade of his knife glide over your skin again, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

He slowly circled your breasts with the blade, slowly going closer and closer to your nipples. He leaned down and pecked your lips before circling the tight nub with his knife. The sensation of the cool blade against your hard nipple, made your eyes roll to the back of your head and a moan leave your lips.

He repeated the same motions with your other breast, slowly teasing your breast before circling your nipple again. You were slowly getting frustrated with the amount of foreplay but didn’t dare the comfortable silence that had laid over you in the last few minutes.

After he was done toying with your breasts, he got off you, now standing next to the bed. He lifted you up with ease and put you onto your feet next to him. Before you could ask him what he was doing, he opened your trousers and pulled them down. He also removed your panties in the same manner, muttering a silent ‘fuck’ as he saw how drenched they were.

He simply manhandled you back into the bed, so you were laying down again. You had to admit that it turned you on to see how strong he is and how easy it is for him to manhandle you. In the end the two of you had a size difference from over a foot, so it wasn’t a surprise to you how simple it was for him to carry you around.

Ghost got on top of you again, laying his still completely clothed body onto your bare one. He kissed you again but pulled away way too soon for your liking. You didn’t complain though because he started to kiss down your body. He didn’t leave an inch untouched. He started to kiss your neck, pulling a string of moans from you. He then kissed your collarbone and then put his attention towards your breasts.

He gave them the same treatment he gave them with the knife, first kissing the soft flesh of your breasts before taking on of your hard nipples into his mouth. He sucked on the, licked them and bit down on them. The latter making you arch your back, leaning into his touch. He did the same to your other breast before kissing down your stomach.

He kissed your hips, but instead of putting his mouth to your pussy where you needed him most, he started trailing down kisses your legs instead. You let out an impatient groan at which Ghost only chuckled.

“Patience, princess, patience.”, he said against the soft skin of your thigh. He kissed down one of your legs and then up the other. He kissed and bit down on the inside of your thigh, getting closer and closer to your glistening pussy.

Finally, he licked a stripe along the lips of your cunt, before circling your clit with the tip of his tongue. You let out a string of curses at feeling his tongue finally against your pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet for me princess. I’ve never tasted anyone so divine in all my life.” His words made you blush, and you let out a breathless moan as he dived in again.

He didn’t stress himself, enjoying the feeling of being between your thighs. He pulled your legs onto his shoulders so he could have better access to your pussy. He pulled of a second to pull off his gloves. He revealed strong, veiny hands with long fingers. A flood of wetness rushed through your cunt at the thought of him fucking you with his fingers.

He entered your tight hole with one of his thick fingers, making you moan and buck against him, slowly starting to fuck his hand and face. He didn’t seem to mind as he just kept on eating you out. Slowly he entered another finger, hitting your g-spot perfectly. When he entered a third finger, you started to feel him stretching you out. But you were glad for the preparation before he fucked you with his cock.

When you felt a fourth finger entering you, you couldn’t control yourself anymore. You came with a shout around his fingers while he kept fucking and licking you through your orgasm. He slowly came to a halt and pulled out of you, earning a whine.

“No need to worry, princess. You won’t be empty for long.” Another wave of excitement hit you, as you thought about finally feeling his thick cock inside of you. From what you felt before, he must be at least 9 inches long, which would make him the biggest you ever had.

König was finally done with checking for traps and such when he decided to join the two of you in the safe house. He knew that the three of you didn’t get along too well so he hoped the two of you hadn’t lost it when you found out that the safe house had only one bedroom.

He approached the house from the wrong side, so he had to go around it to be able to enter through the door.

As he came closer though, he heard noises coming from inside of the house. Was that a moan? Was someone hurt? He quickened his step, seeing a figure through the bedroom window. Had he not seen an enemy?

But what he saw did not only shock him, but it also aroused him. There was his best friend between your thighs, while you fisted the sheets and fucked his face. He was speechless.

He could feel his dick coming to life, twitching in his boxers. He fisted his cock through his trousers while watching you cum. He never would have thought that seeing his best friend with a woman would turn him on, but here he was. He decided that he would enter the house, even though he didn’t want to disturb you.

“C’mon princess, take out my cock.” Ghost didn’t have to tell you twice. He was straddling your hips again, so you had to lean up a bit. First, you opened his belt but didn’t bother pulling it out completely, letting the buckle hang to the side. You opened the button of his trousers and pulled his zipper down. You put your hand into his boxers to pull out his hard cock.

You knew he would be big, but nothing could have prepared you for the real thing. Veins were running along his cock, leading to a fat leaking tip. His cock stood upright and almost touched his belly button.

At the sight of it, you could have started drooling. You reached out and pumped him a few times. Your hand almost couldn’t go around his thick shaft, and you imagined how he would feel inside of you.

When you moved to take him into your mouth, he stopped you.

“Another time princess. If I’m not going to be inside of you in the next two minutes, I’m going insane.”, he told you before demanding, “And now on get on all fours for me, princess.”

He got off you and helped you get on all fours. He gave his cock a few jerks before he got behind you. With one hand on your hip and the other one guiding his cock to your entrance, he entered you with his fat tip.

If you already felt full of just his tip, how were you going to feel with his entire length? He entered you slowly, inch by inch. He also put his other hand on your hip and thrust into you, filling you up with his thick length.

When he was finally settled completely into you, you let out an almost pornographic moan. You swore you could feel him inside of your stomach. You’ve never felt this full in your life. He didn’t fuck you though, but he leaned down and whispered directly into your ear.

“Can you hear that princess? Can you hear König? Do you want him to see what a good little slut you were for your lieutenant? How well you are taking my cock?” You whimpered at his filthy words. You could only nod as you heard the door to the house opening.

“Simon? Princess? Where are you?”, Königh shouted, even though he knew exactly where the two of you were. He entered through the door and at the sight of Ghost’s cock inside of you, he almost came into his pants.

But Ghost only grinned, he could feel you clenching around his cock, the thought of being watched while fucking did not just arouse him, but you too.

“Hey, König. Found any traps?” Ghost said as if he wasn’t inside of you and split you open. König could only shake his head, being stunned into silence.

“If you want to, you can watch, König.” Ghost proposed and you had to suppress a moan. He only nodded and left the room. Why did he- oh. He got one of the chairs and put it next to the bed. He sat down, spread his legs, and started to open his trousers. “Please, don’t let me stop you. Go on.”

That’s all it took.

Ghost pulled out completely before he slammed into you again. You fell forward, your chest being pressed against the bed. Ghost did not like that at all, so he took one hand off your hip and wrapped it around your throat to pull you up. He was holding you up with one hand while you just let loose, getting lost in the feeling of him inside you.

Meanwhile, König pulled out his cock and started jerking off to you two fucking. His cock was of similar size, if not a bit smaller.

At the image of taking both of their cocks at once, your pussy clenched around Ghost again, making him groan.

“You’re doing so good for us, princess. You look so pretty, all cock drunk.” Ghosts’ words brought you impossibly close to the edge. But you tried to control yourself, wanting to cum together with him. But König’s groans were not making it any better.

The picture of him jerking off to you two fucking was sinful but also incredibly turning on.

Ghost started to pick up in speed, mercilessly hammering into you. It was almost too much now, his balls grazed your clit with every thrust, making you see stars.

He took his hand away from your neck and you slumped against the bed again. You thrust against him, arching your back so he could fuck you deeper. At the new angle you felt like you were about to pass out. He kept on fucking you like he hated you and you love it. You had never felt this good in all of your life if you’re being honest.

Ghost leaned forward, covering your body with his, his thrusts not faltering. He leaned down to your ear. “Cum for me princess and I’ll fill you up with my cum. Be a good girl for me and König.”

And that was all it took. You let out a cry and came. You saw black for a second and the feeling of Ghosts cum inside of you, made a second wave of pleasure roll over you. Ghost grunted and cursed while he filled you up with ropes of his thick white cum.

Only when he had emptied his balls he started to slow down and pull out of you. After catching his breath, he leaned down to you and flipped you, so you were now laid out on your back. Ghosts cock was already softening as he put it back into his trousers.

“You want to cum in her too buddy or do you want to blow onto her?” Ghost asked König who was still jerking his cock.

You were still catching your breath when you noticed a shift in the room. Ghost was now sitting in the chair and König was standing on edge of the bed. He pulled you by the ankles to him and threw your legs over his shoulders.

As he entered you, you could feel him stretching you out. Not as much as Ghost but he was still bigger than most of the men you’ve slept with. He started thrusting into you at a relentless paste.

He leaned down and almost bent you in half as he kissed you, his mask long gone. You moaned into his mouth as he kept on fucking you. You could feel his thrusts getting sloppy and you knew he was close. If you were being honest, it didn’t need much more for you either.

The feeling of König fucking Ghosts cum into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot, his lips against yours – you were so close.

With one final grunt, König came to a halt and filled you with his cum. The sensation of his cum filling you, mixing with Ghost’s and trickling out of you, sent you over the edge. You screamed into his mouth as you clenched around him.

When both of you caught your breath, König let go of your legs and pulled out of you. He tucked himself away, while Ghost entered the room with a wet cloth. He cleaned you up and pecked your lips.

They helped you into your underwear and into a pair of their spare shirts, before laying down next to you. You were now sandwiched between the two soldiers. “Well, if this is how all of our missions go, we should work together more often.”, you said. The laugh of the men was the last thing you heard before falling into a restful slumber.

I hope you enjoyed these 4k words of smut, that I will 100% go to hell for. (It was worth it tho) Please leave some notes if you liked my fic (likes, reblogs comments)

Please also consider supporting me on my ao3 @ softestqueeen

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon

#fluff #ghost #könig #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #cod x reader #konig x you #könig call of duty #Call of Duty #ao3

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wood-white-writer · 11 months

Text

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [4.5/...]

- OPLA! Buggy x F!Reader

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Summary: In which Buggy discovers that he’s in over his head while making a deal with Arlong the Saw.

Warnings: LA! One Piece, Canon typical violence, slight canon divergence, Arlong is his own warning

A/N: Unfortunately, part 6 of "DMTMYHB" is a little delayed and won't be out until at least next week. However, I began working on this initially out of boredom, so at least you can read about Buggy's POV after the events of chapter 4 and before the events of chapter 5.

Life sure is a shitshow sometimes, Buggy thinks to himself while spitting out a few grains of sand. For fish people, there’s a certain irony with pulling over a bag propped with sand over his head.

Then again, it could’ve been considerably worse.

They could have decided to water board him, or maybe take a decent chunk off his nose. It’s not too outlandish to assume that these kinds of people prefer the taste of human flesh, and although he considers himself fairly experimental man on occasion, that one is not on his kink list.

He might be big-headed sometimes, he’s man enough to admit as much, but even Buggy knows better than to underestimate the fish people. He’s had his fair share of encounters with them before, and needless to say, mixing a Devil Fruit eater with people who primarily live and breathe in the sea is a bad combination.

A very, very bad combination, especially if you throw Arlong the Saw into the mixture. Buggy’s not a recluse; he’s heard of his reputation as the self-proclaimed ruler of the East Blue. Ask just about anyone who he is, and they’ll whisper his name while pissing their pants like school children.

A misanthrope with a less than discreet disdain for all things human, and a face only a mother could hope to love, the guy does not fuck around with what he considers his, which approximately covers all of the East Blue. And the people in it are merely collateral.

If anything’s a testament, it’s his bounty. Twenty million berries for his head, doesn’t matter if it’s attached to his body or not. The highest bounty on this piece of the ocean.

Well, second highest. The top spot belongs to you, but that’s a thought Buggy has tried desperately to bury in the sand for the past few days. He doesn’t need to think about you, least of all now.

He has bigger fish to deal with, and it blows.

It’s his fucking luck that this is happening specifically to him.

No, it wasn’t enough that he got his ass handed to him by a bunch of scrawny nobodies.

It didn’t suffice that he had to watch you turn your back to him twice in a lifetime.

He’s managed to evade the saw-nosed fucker’s eye up until this point, and so, of course Fate would deal him this final one.

Just as the cherry on top of the shitty sundae that is his life.

So, to conceal or own terrified state when faced with the darkened stage room, Buggy decides to do what Buggy does best:

Fake it ‘til he makes it.

And he sure as fuck hope he does.

“Is this the best way to ask for an autograph?” His echo bounces like a ball through the darkened room. “I mean sheesh! Fans have gotten so toxic!”

The eerie silence is his only companion now, and he finds that he can’t stand it. Not even the two fishy folks standing guard at his side offers him more than rolled eyes. Rude.

This place — his stage — which once served as his sanctuary, might soon become his tomb. If Arlong lives up to his rep, he’ll ask the clown to dig his own hole before chomping on his jugular.

Curtains for him and all fucking that.

“Alright, what do you want?! Tickets to the show? I can get you house seats, they’re pricey!”

A loud thud emerges from the shadows behind him, and a cold breeze brushes against the the exposed skin on his face.

“Oh, I am no fan of yours.”

He knows a beast when he hears one, even better when he sees them. He spent the good portion of his youth alongside one, and witnessed first-hand just how they could be. Beasts are strong, and brutal, and precise. They can tear you apart if they deem it necessary because it’s in their nature, but that’s all it is. Nature.

However, Buggy’s also come to discover that beasts have also the capacity for kindness and love. A beast is someone he can fall in love with.

This thing that emerges from the dark at his side, on the other hand, is no mere beast.

Hell, he can’t even qualify it as such. This creature at his side, one he doesn’t dare to face at first until he notices it’s gradual approach, is a monster.

Ain’t no way in the blue hell he’ll ever consider tapping that the way he would with a beast.

“I run things here in the East Blue,” the fish-man speaks, voice grating Buggy ears as he circles the clown. “I’m here to remind of you of your place in the food chain. You pull a job in my seas, you gotta pay tribute.”

Despite the fact that he’s nervous as shit, there’s a certain taunt crystallising in Buggy’s brain that he’s subconsciously urged to free against his better judgement.

Arlong’s place is second in this so-called food chain. Yours is the first, and if it wasn’t for the fact that voicing this would guarantee his premature death, Buggy would’ve reminded the fishy shithead of this.

Despite whatever grievances you two share, Buggy knows that he won’t mind not being at the top as long as it means it’s not under Shark-boy’s hierarchy.

The East Blue is, per Arlong’s definition, yours, whether you know it or not, and he’d much rather comply with that.

But Buggy keeps his act going. “But Arlong, baby, you don’t gotta worry about me. I’m small potatoes. Pirating’s more of a side gig.”

As much as he tries, and he does try, Buggy knows his words can’t keep the shark’s teeth at bay for much longer. Arlong is not a patient type, and it just about snaps when he reaches for his throat and prepares to chomp.

Buggy doesn’t intend to die now. He can’t. He’s got unfinished business to attend to.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

Maybe fate is actually on his side for fucking once, because the fish man actually does wait.

He has a shot.

“You know who’s out there really disrespecting you? It’s that little Rubber-Prick in the straw hat, goes by the name of Luffy.”

It doesn’t work, because it seems Arlong is more of a recluse than him. Has never heard the boys name. So, he tries a different approach before the teeth settle in again.

“He— He’s not alone.” Fuck, he’s losing air, and he kinda needs that to get the primary point into Arlong's thick, scaly head. A point that he’ll be sure to catch the asshole’s attention. “Cross-Hairs is with him!”

Arlong halts, and his lips don a sneer.

Another thing Buggy has discovered in all of this is that Arlong is an inherently proud guy, and believes himself superior to others not only because of his fishy nature, but due to the fact that he has among the largest bounties on this piece of the map.

Yours is the only obstacle keeping him from completely claiming that title.

“The Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates has been absent for the past decade.” Arlong lets up on the pressure around his neck, enough to let Buggy grasp a few fistfuls of air, but his feet still dangle above the ground.

“Y-Yeah—,” Buggy heaves. “But her— b-bounty hasn’t changed, has it? And the kid, he just knocked over a marine’s base in Shells Town, then he stole a map of the Grand Line and now he’s talking shit about finding the One Piece.”

This seems to be enough reason for Arlong to finally drop him, and Buggy struggles to retrieve all the air he’s lost.

“The One Piece, an excuse for humans to spread their filth across the seas.” Arlong is less than impressed, but what he says next opens a door. “Why should I concern myself with the ambitions of a mere human boy?”

“Because that map is useful,” Buggy regains some semblance of balance on his knees. “The kid is not, but I have unfinished business with him. What’s more, if Cross-Hairs is with him, then that’s your chance to get the highest bounty in all of the East Blue. Think about it! You’ll be at the top of the list if she’s out of the way.”

Arlong doesn’t like the implication laced in Buggy’s words, the possibility that he’s in any way lesser than a human. “I am already at the top of the list, clown. The Cross-Haired Pirates are disbanded, and humans tend to age so quickly compared to fish men. I’m sure she’s grown old and weary in the last couple of years, hardly worth my time.”

Buggy wants to smile. Smile as he thinks about just how fucking wrong this guy can be. The years have not drained you, nor weakened you, nor made you any less hot if he does say so himself.

Oh, if anyone can wipe the floor with Arlong, it’s you. That’s why he’s not afraid of revealing your current whereabouts, because he already knows fishy over there will get his ass whopped big time.

“How about this: you let me live, and I’ll help you find Luffy and Cross-Hairs. Two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

Two birds, one stone, and one fish filet, to be more specific.

Arlong grabs him by the neck. “And how do you plan to do that?”

“I've got eyes and ears everywhere.”

The fish takes the bait, and Buggy can't help but laugh.

Laugh, not because Arlong agrees to his plan, but because the guy is going to be struck by lightning so fucking hard that in the end, there'll be nothing left of him save for that ugly-ass tool he calls a nose.

The moron has deliberately put himself up for slaughter, and personally, Buggy can’t wait to watch the show unfold.

The stage is yours.

He’ll watch from the front rows and give you an upstanding applause once the curtains falls.

---

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat , @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k, @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #one piece live action #one piece x reader #buggy x you #one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x female reader #arlong

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localicecreambiter · 1 day

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demi god LU time

the law of hyperfixations says you must combine interests at every given chance

adding a cut here as to not clog feeds!! its a real long post

i wanna hear thoughts too! so dont be afraid to comment. these are my personal opinions and i wanna hear if anyone agrees or disagrees :D (apologies for all the tags btw)

edit to add the stupid doodle

the gods all have favorites, and ironically none of them are their own kids (save for hades: he loves his kid. doesn't make him a good parent, but you know?)

In a more Zelda timeline abiding setting; Originally they weren't all at camp halfblood at the same time, but time shenanigans decided they were to be brought together

Imagine Chiron’s surprise when 7 of his dead campers waltz into camp (this happens EVERY SINGLE TIME they enter camp. Dionysus is completely unfazed, knowing the bs time shit the gods are dealing with atm)

By the time they enter camp in Wild’s Hyrule for the second time he kinda understands (Wind and Sky didnt have a Camp Halfblood, for the record, for obvious reasons)

Alternatively, its some form of modern au where they’re just from different parts of Hyrule (skyloft, downfall, ordonia, windfall peninsula, hyrule town (different from castle town), the list goes on) which would make a lot more sense for this kinda au (the world would’ve just had a LOT of calamities within the span of a few years, some of the heroes knowing about camp and others not so much)

(i think Legend, Wars, Time, Wind (post WW) and Four would’ve known about Camp Halfblood while the others were just kinda on their own until after their quests) meaning over half of them didn’t have prophecies and just went to deal with the issue themselves, possibly meaning on their journey they learned of camp

Ok well, all of them but Wars, who grew up at Camp Halfblood

All Zelda’s are children of Athena, save for Skyward Sword Zelda since she's the reincarnation of Hylia (yeah, im keeping the original Zelda goddesses! What of it?)

At some point fairly early on, a Zelda only had a son, who got together with Athena at some point and boom

Sky: child of Zeus

self explanatory

God of the skies? his name is literally Sky

not to mention how fucking powerful he is?

he was the "first" Link; Zeus was technically the first God, it makes sense (this is such a stupid reason)

The skies are his home, Zeus finding someone on Skyloft and “falling in love” with their love of the sky too results in this bad boy right here

The demise fight? Only a zeus kid could harbor lightning like that

A camp counselor in the modern setting (ik typically once you’re 18, you’re no longer a camper really, but shhhh)

Wind: child of Poseidon

Don't roll your eyes, i've got a reason!!

the 4 wind gods throw a fit anytime he's sent on a quest (they all love him even if they won't admit it)

A world purely ocean and islands? Poseidon would have a fuckin ball

The Great Sea needed a hero, Wind was brought about more for necessity than out of the want to have a child (this leaves a hard disconnect between wind and the gods, knowing his dad didn’t really have him out of love for his mom but because the world needed to be saved)

The irony of Poseidon being the patron of pegasi and horses and Wind not knowing what a horse is will never not be a funny thought

Has more control over the wind than he does the sea (for now)

he, like Legend, pointedly ignores that he's a demi-god, especially since he comes after the Hero of Time (kinda hard to live up to that, even outside of a demi-god au)

The ocean and winds are his mood ring: you upset him the wind gods are after you

In a modern setting, the same reason applies kinda; a quest under the sea would be virtually impossible for anyone but a child of Poseidon, and hell knows a cyclopes isnt gonna be sent (gotta love those prophecies)

OR!! OR AND HEAR ME OUT

Wind isnt a demigod

The wind gods still adore him, but he doesn't have the hero’s spirit and i think that’d kinda translate to not being a demigod, yet still being the one who was destined to go on the quest because there just weren't any demigods to do it

Still not set on which id go with

Legend: child of Hades

Ah yes, child of the big three goes on so many quests trope. Love to see it

he's Apollo's favorite favorite (Warriors is jealous as hell. Thats his dad! Wdym he likes Legend more????)

Pointedly ignores the fact he's a demigod (at least, he definitely tries to)

Blessed by (and beefing with) so many gods from his quests

probably one of the few heroes who's spoken to their godly parent (trust me, it was out of obligation rather than free will)

Prefers helping out the more minor, underappreciated, and not as needy or bitchy gods (like Hestia, for example)

curses the Olympians constantly, they've learned to ignore him, hes their best questing kid

Sort of a general camp counselor since Hades doesn't really have kids (its technically his last year but hes been there the longest out of everyone)

Managed to block the oracle over iris message

After his trip to the dark world and lorule, the gods go haywire around him, much to his delight (because it means they leave him alone)

Hyrule: child of Hecate

adopted by Hermes (much to the dismay of all the Hermes children)

I was on the line between Hecate, Apollo, and Hermes; Hyrule’s affinity for magic and the blood curse resulted in Hecate to win

Very detached from the gods, the help he receives is never outright but more subtle blessings

The gods like to ignore Downfall after Legend died tbh (outside of modern, obviously)

Well, they still ignore Downfall as a city/country.

Only learned of camp thanks to Legend, otherwise he wouldn’t have had a clue it existed

Wild: child of Athena

Also adopted by Hermes

One of the more chaotic children of Athena

The idea of Athena being his godly parent sourced from his resourcefulness and quick battle (or just general) strategies, along with his pre-calamity self being stoic and more on the critical side

Completely forgot he was a demigod and just let loose, Athena is more than slightly perturbed by him and yet so infatuated

Supervises archery at camp

Warriors: child of Apollo

exemplifies almost 0 traits of his father other than his looks and his affinity for medicine (shit archer, shit musician, can't write poetry)

blessed by Athena during the war since he was struggling so much, she always has a soft spot for the heros since they fight to protect her daughters so hard (aka pity blessing)

Actively beefing with Ares

Aphrodite likes to keep an eye on him, mostly for entertainment (she woulda eaten the whole Cia debacle UP)

Very notorious in camp considering he was a war captain at the ripe age of 17; once learning of the whole Camp Jupiter has apartments and college for half bloods insisted and led a project at CHB to get something similar built (which is where he, Sky and Twilight stay after turning 18)

Twilight: child of Demeter

His love for ranch animals and caring for his farm lead me to this decision

Also the whole wolf thing, that also counts

Appalled by the fact Wind doesn't know what a horse is considering he's literally the son of Poseidon (jealous the kid can talk to Epona and he can't)

After his journey to the twilight, the gods kinda flicker between Greek and Roman around him so they tend to avoid him like Legend

blessed/cursed by Lupa, hence the wolf thing

Teaches foraging lessons at camp

Four: child of Hephaestus

He's the smithy, I couldn’t not say he's a Hephaestus kid

received a lot less help from the gods since he was one of the first

started advocating that heros receive help from the divine after LU concludes so those after him have a fighting chance (not in the modern setting)

I havent played many of his games, but the kinstones sound like a thing Hephaestus would scatter across the earth as scrap from his creations

Not one of the fire wielders (the only one that can wield fire is Red when split, mostly because of the elemental bs in minish cap)

After drawing the Four Sword, Janus (despite being roman (i like to think the four sword would be a roman artifact, it just feels right)) was suddenly pretty interested and bestowed what wisdom he had for the demi-god

Vulcan, Neptune, Aeolus, and Ceres all came together to forge the elemental stones; the Minish were still the ones to bestow the sword to Hylian people

The gods tend to avoid him too, for the same reason they avoid Twilight and Legend (dark world shenanigans and the Four Sword)

He loves the damn forge at CHB, and was ecstatic seeing the one at Camp Jupiter

He was asked by Chiron if he would be interested in running a forge class for young demigods (be it his siblings or anyone interested) but sadly declined

Has that air of responsibility to him, being a seasoned quester (and while his 3 doesn't stand to Legend’s 6, its still pretty sizable) hes looked up to by the younger campers

Time: child of Demeter Kronos?

The Kokiri were so Demeter core dont even tell me they werent

I guess they’d kinda act like nymphs and dryads in a sense??

His abilities use to relate to his mother until the events of his first quest: the Ocarina of Time was designed to slowly corrupt the user, being a creation of Kronos’

However, it wasn’t really designed with a demigod in mind sooo…

Also self explanatory, the titan of time? Duh… huh?? what do you mean he was taken over?? What do you mean he was a child of Demeter?? No he wasnt lol that Neverrr happened

the reason he's the only “child” of a titan is mainly because of the fierce deity mask literally making him god-like, meaning he has a lot more power harbored in him sooo (the second he dawned that mask he discarded his old identity for that of a titan’s child, since it was also cursed object)

Don’t ask how he came to being Kronos’ kin, no one knows, not even he does (I do) (no, it does not imply a Hylian wandered into Tarturus and got out alive to have the baby)

Avoids interacting with the gods at all costs, he's weary of them as they are of him (even if he saved the world twice)

Extras :)

Ravio: child of Pluto

blessed by Minerva for his natural quick witted nature and clever war strategies, if her own daughter can't succeed she might as well make sure ONE does

can tell if a rupee is real or not by glance alone

Sheerow scares the fuck out of the gods, which in turn means Ravio puts them on edge, a thing very few can achieve

the gods never gave him much thought until the events of albw, to which he suddenly gained like four pair of godly eyes on him

can and will plan one of the worlds most successful heists, refuses to participate

also beefing with Ares (not Mars, Ares)

Based on my personal HC that Ravio’s some sort of artificer (be it replicating magic dungeon items or just flat out creating new ones) i think Vulcan has his eyes on him too

Hilda: child of Minerva

by far the strangest child Minerva ever birthed

exemplifies the traits of a hero rather than a ruler

a little jealous her mother likes Ravio more than her

gods be damned, she's not going to let them neglect her kingdom anymore

a force of fucking nature that single handedly forced a meeting with the gods and somehow forced them to agree to start restoring Lorule (she got the idea from Legend, who has done this multiple times for multiple different reasons)

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bonefall · 7 months

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Do you have a design for Bright Storm? I'm fond of the wise older figure thing you're doing with her

I do NOW

Made her, as well as a revamp of my old Thunder Storm design (I last drew him like a year ago!!) in preparation for some character summaries I plan to bang out after finishing a couple drafts, but Bright in particular gets requested so much (anon you're like the 4th person) that HERE, lady girl and her son be upon ye

I'm thinking about doing the BB!DOTC character summaries in "family" posts, so they're all grouped together the way I plan them to act in the story. Every family is telling a little mini-story of its own, in a way, from the Frost family and their inventing prowess, to the Heart family and how the kits react to Bumble's exile, to the Storm family and how they grapple with Clear Sky's influence.

I wanted to make sure Bright Storm was very large and powerful looking, but in a round, kind of "humble" way. She downplays her strength, her intelligence, and even her better judgement.

So she has these big cheeks, fluffy primordial pouch, poofy tail, keeps her head low-ish. Tends to deny compliments.

I was commiserating with my partner the other day about how intelligent characters aren't allowed to be thick-bodied. So between my fat, beloved Bumble the translator and Bright Storm the wise woman battle strategist I'm feeding us both

I needed to "finalize" their stripe pattern, because I actually plan for TIGERSTAR to have the same one. I'm probably going to update my Tawnypelt and Bramblestar designs to have it too; if they don't look better with Goldenflower's.

I just like the irony and bitterness of it. That these ancient stripes, once so associated with compassion and righteous fury, turn into a "legacy" so divorced from what Thunder Storm and Bright Storm stood for.

Becoming a symbol for the idea of modern ThunderClan and the culture of the new times, not the principles it was founded on.

Also I HAD to do the design thing where Thunder Storm's stripes look like top surgery scars lmao, my beloved transmasc boy

Anyway, I've decided that Thunder Storm was a REALLY dark orange. It bugs me a little, especially in-canon, that he looks nothing like either parent. So in BB he's not too far off color-wise from his mama.

I also removed the old "mane" and replaced it with combination white chest + his father's shoulder burls. The mane is going to become a Forest Cat trait, which is why it's going to get so prominent in ThunderClan.

Instead, Mountain Cats have a REALLY high concentration of ear tufts in their genes. They're also huge and generally hairy.

Funny enough though they're also "oily." They come from the Lake Cat population which was pretty water-resistant because of constantly dealing with the lake, and they haven't lived in the Mountains long enough for natural selection to get rid of it.

It's going to become SUPER advantageous for those who move to the River Kingdom, but become less prominent in the other populations.

But for now, Mountain Cats are kinda... well, naturally 'stinky.' That's not a BAD thing to cats who are animals who LIKE strong smells, but it is a notable trait that I'd like The Wind Runner in particular to comment on.

Thunder Storm: "Well? What did she say?"

Bumble: "Ummmmmm......"

Thunder Storm: "be honest"

Bumble: "she says she smelled you coming when you were upwind. rudely."

99% of the time when I'm changing character eye colors, it's to make them NOT blue because there's too many blue-eyed characters in WC imo. BUT.

I think it was another tiny waste to have the narrative constantly stressing Clear Sky's blue, blue eyes, almost like they're hypnotizing, and then they never really comment on what Thunder's eye color signals to other people.

So I've got an idea; instead of amber, Thunder Storm has ELECTRIC BLUE eyes. Almost green, like his mother's minty ones.

Intense as his father's, but more focused. Sharp. Shocking.

Side note: in my research I actually learned it's easier for tripod cats to RUN than it is for them to walk. They can "canter" like a horse, but when they go slow they have to hop. Taking this into consideration.

I put a splash of white on the little bit of lower limb that Thunder Storm has on the leg, so it sticks out a bit more. I don't want it to be hidden I want it to be prominent

I also figured out a hilarious trick for Bright Storm to pull on Sky's Clan at some point lmao

Thunder's crew is in conflict with Sky's cats and the attacks are getting more and more frequent. They decide they need some extra time to carry out some kind of hunt or diplomatic mission, but Bright Storm only has a small group of cats to pull off a stunt with.

She knows she can't fight them head on, but she NEEDS to buy her son more time, so she hatches a plan.

Clear Sky values his intelligence and his ferocity very much. To a fault, even. He loves to outsmart his opponents and overpower them-- so Bright Storm gets all her cats to build a very large, very tall, nearly impenetrable wall out of briar thorns. There's only one way in; the well-guarded tunnel they've constructed in the front.

It would be a challenge for a lesser cat. But Clear Sky, clever devil he is, realizes they've made a fatal flaw; they've built their camp right next to the trees. His fighters don't need to jump over the wall or push through it, the oaks are their allies!

So, while Thunder's cats are all surely sleeping, he gathers his best men and come through the canopy. In well-trained patrols, they swoop down into the camp and prepare for battle.

and no one is there.

You see, there was only one way in... and only one way out.

And Clear Sky and his best fighters watch with HORROR as the tiny crew of guards seals that entrance up like the neck of a bag. There are no trees to climb INSIDE the wall, and it's too tall to hop out of. It won't hold them forever, but it will hold them JUST LONG ENOUGH.

Bright calls this little plan "Operation Timeout."

#I can't help it. Ever since I mentioned how cool a warlord gray wing would be now I can't stop thinking about Bright Storm doing--#Art of War Looney Tunes tactics lmao #LET THE BATTLE CATS BATTLE #BB!DOTC #BB!Bright Storm #BB!Thunder Storm #BB!Thunderstar #Better Bones AU #It feels very fitting for Bright to have a lot of very ''annoying'' but nonlethal plans like that #Though she CAN and WILL hurt others to defend her family #She doesn't LIKE doing that.#One thing I do want her to keep from Gray is his aversion to violence #But unlike him she's able to come to terms with the fact she HAS to defend what she loves.#And though a lot of it does come from the love she had for Clear... it also comes from her compassion and kindness towards others.#She's been lead astray and blinded by her love of him in the past (especially in how she abetted what happened to Bumble)#But unlike Canon!Gray she's ashamed of what she did after she sits with the consequences #She doesn't want to hurt anyone. But she did. She let it happen. Contributed even #And that's rough.#YOUR HONOR. I LIKE HER.

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