#anyway this was prompted by the fact that I keep seeing posts that make me want to ask when the last time the op spoke to an actual guy was

[thirddoctor]

We talk a lot about men having no understanding of women as people or how to write them, and that's absolutely true and does way more real world harm, but it's very clear that a lot of folks are completely out touch with how most men think and behave. This is a huge problem in a lot of fanfic imo, and also a top contributor to the "he would not say that" problem. I don't really have an answer except spend more time with real people I guess and listen to their perspectives instead of assuming they're exactly the same as yours. That's always a good idea.

[actual-changeling]

Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner, and today I have something surprisingly not kiss-related—though it is still about the final fifteen because hey, gotta keep the brand image.

I read this post by @goodoldfashionednightingale and began typing a small response. Then I made the mistake of drinking half a litre of coffee on an empty stomach right after taking my adhd meds and my brain began vibrating at the speed of light.

But oh, have I discovered parallels. This, my friends, is about the nightingale, where it comes from, what it means, and what the fuck happened in part 3 of 1941.

Ready? Let's go.

Now, as OP said in her post, s1e3 is important. In the script book, Neil himself says that these flashbacks are where the producers would tell him to cut scenes to save money. They suggested every single one—except for the one he ended up taking out, which was the bookshop opening scene set in 1800. The others are building blocks, you need them to see how their relationship progressed and what kind of important milestones they had.

(side note: author is very miffed that english does not have a separate subjunctive form like german which makes quoting lines way more confusing than it has to be)

The one I want to mention is neither 1941 nor 1967. No, what I want to talk about is 1601. This might be about to get a bit rambly but I will do my best to keep it tidy.

The focus of that flashback is on the Arrangement, yes, but it gives us a lot more information than that.

they both see Shakespeare's plays regularly, maybe even meet in the crowd

Crowley prefers the comedies

Aziraphale does not seem to have a preference, he enjoys the tragedies and presumably the comedies too

there is an oyster woman selling food -> reference to their meeting in Rome when Aziraphale tempted him to try some oysters

Aziraphale reflexively denies their relationship

Crowley might say he is not worried but circles Aziraphale the entire time, keeping watch

they both ask favours of each other and both agree to do them

What stands out to me in relation to what I am about to expand on is the line that Crowley delivers after Aziraphale's little 'buck up'—which Crowley finds adorable btw but that's a post for another time.

"Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety."

Why would he say that? What exactly is prompting this? WHY say that specific line?

At first I thought it might be to tempt Shakespeare because he does commit art theft by just copying that line down, BUT I think there is more to that. So much more, in fact. I am wiggling now because I am very excited about this and my adhd meds are kicking in anyway.

First things first: the line itself.

It appears in Shakespeare's play Antony and Cleopatra, a romantic tragedy, which was first performed in 1607 aka six years after this meeting. Enobarbus is talking about Cleopatra and describing why Antony won't leave her. Her.

Ccrowley uses his—again, who is he even talking about? Hamlet? Shakespeare? Random poetic quote?

No, I think this line is about Aziraphale and it's a code. Right after, the next line from Aziraphale is "What do you want?", meaning that this is their code phrase for 'I have a favour to ask of you'.

Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety

Age will not affect his appearance nor will he ever become boring to Antony. Crowley, who later chooses the name Anthony for himself, tells Aziraphale, an immortal, that he will never age and that he will never grow bored of him.

It's flattery, pure and simple, and it's code at the same time. This establishes the important fact that they might use more of Shakespeare's work as code/already have a system in place (even though he steals Crowley's line for later).

They play their little morality game of back and forth, Aziraphale agrees, Crowley probably manipulates the coin toss, and THEN we find out that the oyster woman is called Juliet.

Why? What is the meaning of that? Why give her a name and that name in particular? Why bring the sexy oysters back into it?

Romeo and Juliet premiered in 1597, so it is safe to assume they have both seen it by 1601, but this is mostly for the audience, not for us-or is it?

Aziraphale gives Crowley puppy eyes until he agrees to make Hamlet popular, and while I don't think Juliet itself is a code word, although it's very interesting that the OYSTER woman is the one with that name (especially adding what we now know about Job), Romeo and Juliet might be.

Yes, the Nightingale song came out in 1940 but the bird has been around for much, much longer, and, as many probably know by now, also shows up in Romeo and Juliet.

This is where I am starting to vibrate at the speed of light because listen to me. Listen.

Crowley is Juliet. Anthony J. Crowley. Antony Juliet Crowley.

(side note: I'm not saying that Crowley chose it based on that—though I am not not saying that—but that it is a clue for us at the audience.)

Why do I think that? In the play, Romeo spends the night with Juliet and then goes to leave as the night begins to end. Juliet tries to stop him and tells him that the birds they are hearing aren't larks, which sing at dawn, but nightingales, which sing at night.

Who is the one always pushing for more? Crowley. He is the one trying to convince Aziraphale it's safe, they're safe to spend time together.

Romeo disagrees with Juliet and says 'I must be gone and live, or stay and die'.

Leave and stay alive, or stay and hell/heaven will punish us. It gets even better though.

We all know how Romeo and Juliet ends: Romeo thinks Juliet is dead, kills himself, Juliet finds him and then kills herself too.

Hey, do you know how Antony and Cleopatra ends?

Antony thinks Cleopatra is dead, kills himself and dies in her arms, then Cleopatra also kills herself—by snake poison; Romeo also died by poison.

The parallels are THERE. They are jumping down our throats! Two tragedies, two sides, several familiar names and phrases, same fear, same ending.

I think by now you can guess how this ties back to 1941.

We do not see how that night ends, but we know it ends. One of them wants to stretch it out, maybe even quotes Romeo and Juliet because look at the setting!

Candlelight, wonderful night they spend together, the threat of Crowley's early demise, and, to quote the play once more, this time Romeo: I have more care to stay than will to go.

Crowley thought it was his last night on earth and went with Aziraphale to his bookshop, to be with him, because he cares more about that than the fact that he will be dragged to hell come morning. Do you remember?

"Expect a legion to come for you first thing tomorrow" THAT is the threat. They have until dawn, just like Romeo and Juliet, which is why she is so desperate for the birds to be nightingales. Fortunately for them, Aziraphale saves the day, BUT there is NO SECURITY. They do not KNOW if a legion will still show up or not. If dawn is a deadline and they will need to fight.

Sure, they improved their chances, but who knows? Maybe they will come for him anyway, it's not like hell is all fair and square.

The best part: it gets even better.

Juliet eventually panics and tells him to go, and Romeo drops a line that huh, sounds oddly familiar, doesn't it?

'More light and light, more dark and dark our woes!'

Remind me, what does Aziraphale say again? Ah, yes. Perhaps there is something to be said for shades of grey.

There is more. Yes, even more. We know the whole rescue relies on a magic trick, a switch. Guess what Juliet yearns for while telling Romeo to go save himself?

Oh, now I would they had changed voices too. While they did not for Romeo and Juliet—they kiss and part—they did for our two. One fabulous switch and we're good.

(side note: Toads? Associated with hell. Larks? Associated with the dawn, yes, but also heaven since Romeo says 'Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat the vaulty heaven so high above our heads.')

So, this was a whole lot of information, let's see if I can summarize my thoughts.

I believe the nightingale is a code word that has existed even before 1941 and gained a lot of importance over the years. In 1941, the song is added to the meaning and whatever happened between the two that we have not seen yet, it fundamentally changed their relationship. Maybe they kissed, maybe one of them tried to convince the other to prolong the night but they parted on not-great terms.

The nightingale and the song become a symbol of hope, a goal to achieve, another uninterrupted night, maybe, or an uninterrupted life.

When they part in the final fifteen, it's morning. Crowley points at the sky and says "no nightingales", which at that point has several different layers to it.

No nightingales because their night is over, just like with Romeo and Juliet, and please, please allow me to add another detail, because I am frothing at the mouth over this. The scene I quoted, known as balcony scene, do you know what it is preceded by?

A ball.

Star-crossed lovers defying their sides, falling in love at a ball, getting a hurried, wonderful night together but torn apart by danger of punishment, the nightingale as a dream, as a wish for unhurried time together. Family rejection, torn apart by parents, willing to die for each other so they can reunite in death.

No nightingales. The ball, the romance, is over, their dancing is over, heaven is tearing them apart, and Aziraphale returns to heaven while they are both stuck in a pit of misunderstanding and miscommunication, all bound together by fear for each other.

The thing is, Crowley hates tragedies, he never liked the "gloomy ones", and he does not want them to end in one—luckily, this isn't the end. Yes, they kiss and part, but the play keeps going. We have an entire act 3 to fix what Romeo and Juliet couldn't, to ensure that this is a COMEDY, not a tragedy.

Both Antony & Cleopatra and Romeo & Juliet died out of fear, hurried into making bad decisions because they knew what would happen if their sides were to catch up with them.

Crowley and Aziraphale can reunite heaven and hell with love, not death. This is THEIR story and they are writing the ending. No more day and night, no more deadlines, no more hiding and sneaking about, no more fear of larks and sunshine.

Good Omens will end the way it began: In a garden with two no-longer-star-crossed lovers embracing the song of a lark as well as that of the nightingale.

I hope this made sense to everyone who was no present while my mind started to vibrate itself into a puddle because the thing is I can see Neil doing all of this completely on purpose.

Thoughts? Questions? Additions? Come and join me in my insanity and until next time I have a mental breakdown over this show (probably in like two hours).

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Tim Drake: Ugly Duckling (dp x dc)

So this is the last day of pride month, and so also the last day of me trying to write as many LGBTQ+ canon dc characters. It’s been fun (and I got to read a whole bunch of comics which was actually much more fun than the first time I’d tried to read those!!)

Now even though this is the end of June, feel free to send an ask if you want me to write a blurb with any character. I make no promises, but I will very much try! (It might take a while especially if I’m in a Tumblr hibernation phase.)

Anyways, for the last day of pride month I wanted to do Tim Drake coz he’s dc’s main “it” gay girl. I’ve been working on this Dead Tired fic for ages, based on the post about Tim getting turned into a swan and meeting Danny, who as a prince has to give him a kiss to change him back (I can’t find the prompt but it was hilarious so this was my take on it).

Here’s the beginning of the fic:

Red Robin was on patrol duty, while Batman and Robin were following a lead on possible joker safehouses. All in all, It was a pretty quiet night with only two muggings, both low-energy as both perpetrator ran away as soon as a bat-shaped shadow moved. 

So Red Robin had spent most of the night chatting with Babs. He was grappling around town, as they started on the new date app they’d both found out Jason was using.

“I told him he can’t put only photos of his motorcycle but- wait I’m getting a call,” Oracle interrupted herself. Tim waited before the earpiece came to life again.

“Sorry to cut this short Red Robin, got a full-attention request from Canary. If you need anything, beep me, and Keep your coms open.”

“Bye, Oracle,” he said, and like that, Red Robin was alone once again.

 He stopped on Grand Avenue Station and just let himself take in Gotham. The city was beautiful at night, and Tim was itching for a camera. He seen hundreds of pictures of the city’s skyline but they always managed to be unique. The night sky may always be covered by dark clouds above, but Gotham had its own stars in the lights shinning on top of the skyscrapers. So lost in his thoughts, Tim was, he almost missed the soft noise that sounded behind him. The voice that sounded behind him was harder to miss.

“Wither away so late, Little Red Bird?”

Red Robin turned to see a tall woman standing half in the shadows

“Sorry, can I help you?” Answered the vigilante despite the bad feeling creeping up to him.

“I’d like to know where I can find your guardian,” the woman said, still in the shadows.

“You mean Batman?” He chanced.

The woman nodded and Tim resisted the urge to sigh.If this was another one of Bruce’s ill-advised fling, Tim was going to hack every electronic device the man had to play sex-eds on loops for at least a week.

“He’s busy at the moment.” Then feeling like he shouldn’t assume what the woman wanted Bruce for, he continued. “But if you need any help, I’ll do my best.”

The woman stepped forward, and Tim could see her better. Her face was bare, but her distinctive outfit seemed to indicate she was some kind of vigilante-slash-criminal. The outfit did, in fact, ring a bell in the back of his mind, but it was dim. Tim didn’t tense up, but he did angle his body in a way to accommodate for a better escape through grappling. She continued walking until she was within arm’s reach of Tim, towering over him. She extended a hand to lightly caress his cheek, and Tim went still at the touch.

“Such a kind Little Bird you are,” she said gently. “You know, you remind me of my daughter.” She sighed. “Oh, what pretty children you both are.”

“Thank you,” said Tim as he sidestepped out of the way. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”

“Oh she was,” the woman said and through his growing wariness, Tim spared a thought for the girl. “She had dark hair and the fairest skin, just like you. The most beautiful girl in the land some would even say.”

That niggling feeling came back as a feeling of familiarity poked at him once again. “You must’ve been very proud.”

The woman let out an airy laugh before saying playfully/contemplating. “mustn’t I?”

A shiver ran down his back. Alright, there was something wrong with this woman, and Tim wasn’t waiting around to find out what. Not without any information or backup.

“Well, if there’s nothing I can do for you, I really have to get going,” Tim said as he took out his grapple gun. In a second, the gun was ripped from his hand , and he was slammed to the side of the staircase leading up to the roof. He let out a gasp at the impact and his features tensed in pain. The woman hadn’t even touched him.

“Not so fast, Little Bird. We don’t want you going back to the Batman just yet.  I’m not ready to make him my Knight yet.”

“Your knight?” Tim managed to get out. He tried to move his arms, but some unseen force was pinning him in place. Shit, that meant he couldn’t reach the comm to send out a distress signal. Hopefully Babs would check in soon.

The woman smiled as she approached him once again. “What better for a Queen, than a Dark Knight?”

And just like that it clicked. “You’re the Queen of Fables.” 

“Well look at this, you’ve got the brains and the beauty,” she teased, her voice as smooth as honey.

“What do you want with Batman?” Tim asked though he could guess from previous encounters she had had with the Justice League that the villainess wanted to turn Bruce into a fairytale character of some sort. She’d done the trick on Clark, and twice on Diana, so it was probably Batman’s turn now. So, yes, Tim could guess, But the longer he kept her talking the more time he had to figure out a way out of this.

“I told you, he’ll be a Knight of the Queen,” She extended a hand and tilted Tim’s face up. “Do you know what that would make you Little Bird?” 

Most villains assumed the batclan worked like a crime family. So the family of a knight? “Nobility,” Tim guessed, unsure where this was going.

“Exactly.” She smiled, and then she moved. Tim braced for the hit.

Instead of a punch though, he only felt a tingling sensation. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, only for them to grow bigger as he took in his uniform. Or the lack thereof.

He was in something-century clothing, in some sort of frilly shirt and pants, all in white. This was worse than a punch. Then, as the thought hit him, Tim’s hands flew to his face only to come in contact with the silky fabric of a masquerade mask. He sighed in relief, and as he calmed down, he realized he was now free of the force pinning him down.

“The color is for my daughter,” the Queen said. Then, she let her head fall to the side before tracing a line across his forehead and Tim could feel something like a circlet setting down on it. “There you go. Now, it’s perfect. You could practically be siblings.” 

“No thanks.,” Tim answered.

The Queen tsked him. “That’s no way to behave Little Bird, has nobody taught you to say thank you when you receive a gift.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Tim disagreed mildly as he took stock of his weapons. Everything was gone, including the earpiece, which meant Babs had to have been alerted and someone was en route.

The Queen frowned. “I was going to be merciful, for you guardian’s sake, but I no longer feel generous.” She raised her hand and Tim tried to roll away, but the magic beam swerved and hit him in a blinding flash of light.

When he managed to open his eyes once again, the world seemed quite a bit bigger than it had been moments before. 

“What did you do to me?” He said. Or tried to say.

Instead a strange squawk echoed and Tim took a step back in surprise. However, he lost his balance and started to fall and as he tried to catch himself with his hand, two large white wings unfolded. He dropped down, which wasn’t as far as he would’ve estimated and laid stiff. He moved his left arm, and a white wing followed suit. 

Oh, no. Oh no no no.

A grating laugh interrupted his freak out. “There you are my pretty Little Bird, all better. White really is your colour, don’t you th-“

With a loud hiss, Tim propelled himself towards the woman. Making use of his newfound beak, he pecked and bit everything he could, as he flapped his wings.

“Blasted creature- Get off! Stop it, you despicable, puny-“ 

Finally she managed to grab Tim and throw him away from her. He landed with a squawk, but managed to get himself back to his feet quickly. “You little/awful brat,” she snarled. “You’ll pay for this!”

But as the Queen threw out her hand, something rippled in the air between them and the magic beam seem to explode midway into a green vortex. Tim’s clumsy attempt at waddling away had him head straight towards it, and it was in vain that he tried to redirect the course. She and Tim made eye contact as the swan-boy tipped right into the swirling green vortex, both of their eyes wide-open in surprise.

Danny was exhausted. He was currently on week one of the full month of Royal Duties he’d promised Clockwork. Being Prince of the Infinite Realm was not all that it was cracked up to be, and that was saying a lot since he had already been expecting it to be awful. 

When Clockwork had made the request, Danny had proceeded to freak out about his new status, and then tried to abdicate. It was only the master of time reminding him of all the terrible possible candidate for the throne per rites of combat (such as Vlad) that stopped him from washing his hands of this mess. And now Danny was forced to spend one whole month of his summer vacation in the Ghost Zone to fulfill his duty as a Prince. 

He thought it would be some paperwork, maybe a battle or two, nothing too bad, but nooo. Because, of course nothing was easy, Danny had to show up at Events, and be Diplomatic. It was meeting, after meeting, after weird parties that were a mix between Medieval Banquets and Debutante balls. 

And worse of all were the marriage proposals. Danny could sorta understand, marrying into royalty was a definite plus for a lot of more powerful ghosts but when they called him a half-breed behind his back, only to smile in his face with a marriage contract in one hand and flowers in the other, that was where he drew the line. 

Plus there was also the fact that he was, like sixteen.

Suffice to say, Danny was exhausted and hiding out in Pariah Dark’s old castle as a last resort. It wasn’t his favorite place all in all, but the gardens were absolutely beautiful, which was where he was walking. He was currently headed to the hedge maze, since it was the best way to get rid of any tails he may or may not have. 

The maze was nasty if it didn’t like you, and it didn’t like anybody but Danny, and even then, it still tried to take a bite every once in a while. Despite the snaking vines and roots trying to capture anything that moved, the flowers that wailed softly when disturbed or the sharp thorns of the hedge plants themselves, it was still a beautiful place. Uniquely, the closer you got to the centre, the more colorful (and dangerous) everything got, which was why he liked it best. 

He reached the centre much quicker than the first time he tried, thanks to the maze actually helping him, and something pale caught his eye right in the middle of the open area, right next to the bench Danny loved to use. As he got closer, he realized it was a swan laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

“Oh no,” Danny said as he approached. “What happened to you?”

As if awakened by the sound of his voice, the swan started to shift, its wings twitching and it rose its head groggily. As soon as it clocked in Danny, it let out a surprised squawk, followed by a long hiss as it struggled to move away.

“Hey, hey, none of that, Duckie, you’re ok.” Danny raised his hands placatingly. “I don’t want to harm you, ok? I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

The hiss subsided by a bit, but that may have only be due to the swan managing to get further away.

“Sh, sh, it’s ok,” Danny repeated as he slowly inched forward. The swan stopped hissing but still observed him warily. “I don’t want to hurt you Duckie, but I do think we’d better get you out of this maze.”

Danny took another step, and this time the swan stayed still. “How about bringing you back to my rooms just for now.” The swan hissed louder at the statement. “Don’t worry Duckie, I’m not keeping you prisoner it’s just this maze has been known to eat people. And you’re too pretty to be eaten,” Danny flashed a smile at the swan which had it stare back with a gaze saying really?

“So what do you say, wanna crash at my place?” Danny asked. The swan didn’t move forward but he didn’t move away either.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust a guy who talks to birds either,” Danny allowed. “And the place where I’m staying is a little gloomy, so I don’t blame you, but I can’t leave you here. The maze is honestly really dangerous, especially for a nice bird is like you. “

The swan seemed to hesitate before it hesitantly made its way to Danny. Ghost animals were usually smart but the swan seemed to understand English, which made communicating that much easier. Danny smiled and opened his arms. “I can carry you.” The swan just looked at him, with what Danny would’ve thought was a deadpan stare. “It would go much faster.”

If the swan was human it probably would’ve sighed, but instead, its wings just fell a little before it waddled towards Danny and looked up as if to say ‘get on with it’.

Danny smiled and gathered the animal in his arms. “Buckle up,” he said before flying off towards the maze exit, which was accompanied by a low hiss. Making sure there was nobody there to ambush him, Danny made it back to the castle in record time.

“Here we are Duckie.” Danny set the swan back down and it plopped down on the ground and just steadied themselves for a while.

Tim was a swan. He had wings and no fingers, and his feet were webbed.

He was handling it though. By which Tim meant he was shelving the impending panic attack for later when he wasn’t stuck in a swan body. 

Ok, so he’d been turned by the Queen of Fables, so there had to be an answer in a fairytale,a way to make him normal again. He knew the ugly duckling story. That had a swan in it, right? He didnt know any other swan stories, except maybe as a dish during the wedding banquet of whichever princess. He vaguely remembered a Barbie movie that had passed on the TV when he was younger but the only thing that came to mind were a scary-looking Troll thing, and ballet.  So with lack of better alternatives he was going to go with the ugly duckling. The ugly duckling’s happy ending was reuniting with family, so maybe all he needed was to make his way back to Gotham.

“Are you ok?” 

And that was another thing. The guy. The one Tim had at first wanted to get away from. He seemed nice and all, but he also had neon green eyes, and fangs. Unfortunately, while they suited the boy very well, they also marked him as an unknown. 

On the other hand, if the glowing portal wasn’t enough of an indication, the green tinge of everything around was clear indicator that Tim wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The guy seemed to want to help him, and having an ally wherever he was could only help.

Tim nodded as best as he could with his long weird neck, and he had to take a few steps to regain balance.

“That’s good,” the boy smiled with his white pointy canine. “How did you end up in the middle of that maze?”

Tim just looks back tiredly. He didn’t know how to even try and explain when he couldn’t say a word and had no opposable thumbs.

“Yeah, sorry.” The boy winced. “Maybe stick to yes or no questions.”

There was a sharp knock at the door that had the boy turning away.

“Prince Phantom!” A voice rung through the door.

Prince? 

The newly-dubbed Prince Phantom got up to open the door, “yes, what can I do for you?”

“Your meeting with Queen Dora is approaching. Do you still prefer to forgo an escort guards?” a purple lady was saying.

“I’ll be fine without, Maj but thank you very much,” Phantom answered with a polite smile.

“I’ll pass it along, my Prince.” She bowed and closed the doors behind her.

Phantom walked back to lay on the bed with a sigh. “I really hate that they call me that.” He turned towards Tim to continue. “I bet swans don’t have royalty. You guys had the right idea.”

[flightlessangelwings]

My Knight in White

Marc Spector x fem!reader

Word count- 4.3k

Dialogue prompt- “ that was for saving my life. “ Action prompt- [ KISS ]: after having been saved from immediate danger by the receiver, the sender, in a state of intense emotion and relief, kisses them to express these feelings.

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), protective!Marc, mutual pining, minor violence, minor character death, harassment of reader (not Marc), damsel in distress, unprotected piv, no use of y/n

About this reader- she is smart but not physically badass, works with Egyptian artifacts but I left it vague so you can fill in for yourself exactly what she does, no specific city where they are is stated either so it's open for you to imagine wherever, no physical descriptions other than body parts

Notes- Posting my October Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023 a little late because of kinktober but I'm so excited to share this! This is expanding on an idea that @melodygatesauthor had months ago who wanted to see a damsel in distress reader and Marc saving her!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!

~

“You’re here late,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, refocusing your eyes to the world around you. Looking around, you didn’t even realize how long you had been hunched over your desk, studying and cleaning the artifact that had recently been brought in. “Marc…” you breathed as you stretched, your back aching as you became aware of reality again.

He smiled softly as he uncrossed his arms, “You work too much, you know that,” he leaned against the doorway as he watched you. 

Marc loved to watch you work. He loved to watch you do anything really, but when you worked, you became so focused, lost in concentration. You handled the old artifacts with such care and respect, he couldn’t help but linger his gaze on your hands. He had never met anyone smarter than you, and he loved to listen to you go on and on about any topic you found interesting. Marc took it upon himself to watch over you, making sure you were always safe even if you never truly knew just how much he looked over you.

“I lost track of time,” you replied as you gathered yourself and packed everything away, “I didn’t realize it’s after dark.”

“And the fact that everyone else left hours ago didn’t clue you in,” Marc smirked.

“Hey,” you playfully chastised him, “I can’t help it, I just got in the zone, you know. Besides, these new artifacts are so fascinating I just can’t tear myself away from them!”

It suddenly occurred to you that you and Marc were completely alone. He was right- everyone else left hours ago. As you stood up and made your way over to him, you took in his handsome features once more. And the way he leaned against the door made your thoughts run wild. The two of you had known each other for some time now, but you kept your true feelings to yourself, afraid of damaging your friendship or losing him.

Marc looked you up and down, “Want me to walk you home?” he offered as he followed behind you, watching you flip the lights off and lock everything up.

“I’m alright,” you suddenly felt nervous. Marc has been to your place many times, but the shiver that ran up your spine made your heart race, “I don’t live that far.”

He furrowed his brow, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a soft smile, “Thanks, though,” you stepped in front of him before you turned back, “Good night.”

Marc watched you walk away before he whispered a hushed, “Good night.”

He watched you as you made your way down the street in the darkness until he couldn’t see you anymore. Marc had already decided he was going to follow you anyway, watching over you from afar, but when he saw a group of sketchy-looking men with wicked grins sneer and tail behind you, he knew he had to do more to keep you safe.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you made your way down the street. You didn’t make it far from Marc when you noticed that a group of men started to follow behind you, and though you couldn’t make out their exact words, you knew they were talking about you. In that moment, you wished you took Marc up on his offer to walk you home, but you couldn’t turn around now. All you could do was hope you got inside fast before they caught up to you.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” one of them called out to you.

Too late.

You glanced over your shoulder and found that they were even closer to you than you thought, and you quickly bolted down the street without a word. That only egged them on more, however, and you heard them laughing behind you as they sped up as well.

“Oh come on, sweetheart,” they sneered, “We just want to talk to you.”

A gasp escaped your lips as you turned down a street, hoping to lose them. But, your plan immediately backfired as you found yourself trapped in an alleyway at a dead end. And you failed to shake them off your tail.

“Please,” you breathed as fear pulsed through your veins, “I’m just trying to get home.”

The men surrounded you, darkness shading their features, “We’ll get you home, sweet girl.”

The others chuckled as they started to reach for you.

“Please leave me alone,” you tried to sound more assertive, but you knew you didn’t intimate them at all. They were all very muscular and taller than you, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance even if you tried to fight back. But that didn’t mean you were going to go down without a fight.

You screamed when one of them grabbed your arm, and you swung your fist into him as hard as you could while digging your feet into the ground. Gritting your teeth, you tried your best to yank yourself from his grip, but tears of frustration filled your eyes when you realized it was useless.

“No!” you cried out as you tried again, your pleas drowned out by their cackling laughter.

Suddenly, your luck changed.

Out of nowhere, something yanked the man who helped you back and he yelped as he found himself flung against the wall of the alleyway. The other men all looked up as a hooded figure in all white descended down and immediately went on the attack against them.

You gasped as you scurried back out of the scuffle, pressing yourself against the opposite wall as much as you could as if you tried to phase through the wall and disappear. Your eyes went wide as you watched the mysterious hero fight off the men who attacked you, beating and punching them down until none of them moved.

The figure then turned to you, and time froze for several moments.

He raised his hands in surrender, “I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice from under the mask said.

You couldn’t help but feel like the voice was familiar. But, you stayed silent.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” your rescuer asked as he stepped closer to you, looking you over.

Your hands trembled, but not from fear this time. Taking a deep breath in for the first time in what felt like forever, you finally replied in a hushed voice, “No,” you whispered, “I’m alright.”

As he stepped close enough so you could reach for him if you wanted, you studied his outfit more. He wore all white, but as he got closer, you noticed it looked like linen wrappings, almost like a mummy. A crescent moon symbol adorned his chest and a white cloak covered his head. You could see the muscle definition even through the thick wrappings, and it made you swallow hard.

You had no idea what came over you at that moment- perhaps it was the adrenaline- but without a word, you reached out for him, grabbed him and pulled your bodies closer as you laid a kiss on his mask where his mouth would be.

It caught him off guard, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, he cradled you close, holding onto your waist with one hand and your arm with the other. It felt warm, comfortable, right.

“What was that for?” he asked with a smirk in his voice.

You smiled at him, “That was for saving my life,” your voice was still hushed, your breath taken away, “Thank you.”

He cupped your chin affectionately. Through the mask, he studied you up close. Everything in Marc screamed to take it off and tell you who he was, but he also knew that knowing his secret would put you in danger. And Marc would not allow that. For now, he would be satisfied knowing you were safe, and that he was just in time. He only nodded, not saying anything else before he broke away from you and leapt up into the air, disappearing into the night just as mysteriously as he appeared. 

You watched in bewilderment as it took your brain several moments to process what just happened. You touched your lips as you realized that you kissed a total stranger, and one who you didn’t even see his face too. But, as you looked around and saw the men laying on the ground, the adrenaline ran through your veins once more and you ran out of the alleyway and quickly made your way home.

The whole time, Marc watched from the rooftops until you were safely inside.

*

In the following weeks, you threw yourself completely into your work to cope with what happened that night. A mix of emotions constantly filled your head, and you found that pushing them away with the distraction of work was the easiest way to deal with them. There were days where you hardly looked up from your desk, so deep in concentration that the rest of the world was a blur around you.

Marc kept a watchful eye over you the entire time. He knew why you were like this, but when others asked he feigned ignorance. No one had to know what happened to you, and it wasn’t up to him to tell anyway. Instead, he chose to keep an eye on you from afar, like he always did. 

Vaguely, you were aware of Marc’s presence in the shadows… and it felt familiar to you somehow. He always kept an eye on you, but after that night it somehow felt different. But, having him close was one of the few comforts you had after your attack. Yet, your mind also wandered toward the mysterious hooded figure who rescued you… 

“Hey,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. 

You looked up with a startled gasp, not realizing how late it got. Again. “Marc,” you breathed. 

He looked worried, “Everything alright?” Marc asked, “You’ve seemed… off lately.”

Your eyes darted from his face to your desk a few times as you felt nervous suddenly, “I’m fine,” you knew you didn’t convince him, you didn’t even convince yourself.

Marc sighed your name as he settled down next to you, “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here for you.”

Heat rose in your face, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” you exhaled deeply, “Besides, you’d just make fun of me.”

“Never!” he exclaimed, acting playfully offended before he turned serious, “What’s on your mind?”

The comforting tone in his voice and the warmth of his presence allowed you to let your guard down, “Ok…” you took a breath, “The night I was here late a few weeks ago,” you started, “A group of guys tried to jump me,” your voice quivered and you felt Marc’s hand over yours, “But I was saved by…” you paused as you looked at him sheepishly, “A guy in a hood and something that looked like mummy wrappings.”

Marc’s face lit up as he grinned knowingly at you.

You nudged him playfully as you erupted into a fit of giggles out of pure embarrassment, “See I knew you were going to laugh at me!”

“No, sweetheart I’m not laughing at you,” Marc raised his hands defensively, “I swear!”

Something changed in the air between you as you stared at each other. The light atmosphere shifted and it felt like something heavy lingered between the two of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized just how close Marc sat to you, and your breath caught in your throat as you studied his features. Not to mention that was the first time he called you anything affectionate like that…

“Marc…”

“Listen, I…,” he started, interrupting you.  

Leaning in, you were entranced by him and you hung on his every word. Just being near him and laughing like this made all your troubles melt away. You felt safe here, with him. 

But, before Marc could continue, a loud crash cut him off. 

Both of you jumped up, and you let out a soft shriek. Marc immediately went into defense mode and every muscle in his body tensed. It was late, and the two of you were the only ones in the building. He made sure the doors were locked too, so he knew whoever broke in meant trouble.

“Marc?” your voice shook.

“Listen to me,” he turned to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, “I need you to sneak out of here. Take the back exit and hide somewhere. I’m going to distract them and get a path for you to get out.”

“But the artifacts,” you whispered as you glanced over at the old objects on your desk that you spent weeks cleaning and studying. The first thought in your mind was that these are robbers looking to steal and sell them, and you didn’t want that to happen.

“Things can be replaced,” Marc sounded urgent, “We can get them back. I’m more worried about getting you safe right now.”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, stunned. Just as you were about to reply, though, another crash made you jump and Marc pulled you in close to keep you calm.

“It's gonna be alright,” he murmured to you, “Just trust me. Ok?”

You pulled back to look into his eyes again, “I trust you.”

He nodded as he pressed his lips together, “Ok,” how Marc sounded nervous, “Stay low. Stay in the shadows. And just get out. You hear me?”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. Then your brain caught up with you, “What about you?”

Marc smirked, “I’ll be alright. Just trust me.”

There was no time for explanations as another crash echoed in the room- they were getting closer. Marc ushered you out of the door and down the hall before he ran in the opposite direction towards the intruders. You glanced over your shoulder at his retreating figure before you made your way down the hall, crouching low and out of sight as you did so. 

As you made your way to the back door, however, you noticed that it was blocked- one of them already made his way there.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you changed direction. Instead, you went up to the roof in hopes of finding a place to hide until Marc did… whatever he was planning to do. 

But that plan also quickly backfired. 

You ran up to the roof and into the open area there, but you were met with yet another thug who blocked the opposite entrance from where you were.

“Well look what we have here,” he said with a dark grin on his face.

Letting out a gasp, you tried to run back where you came from, but another sinister shadowy man blocked that path. “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled.

“Please,” was all you could whimper as you felt them close in on you. 

The men just laughed as they stepped closer, reaching for their guns as they did so. But, before they reached you, one of them was yanked back, slamming into the wall. You looked up and saw the same hooded figure that saved you before swooping down from seemingly nowhere.

More of the thugs appeared from the doorway and they yelled as they pulled out their guns and started to fire on both of you. The hooded figure rushed over to you and wrapped his cloak over both your bodies, shielding you.

You covered your head out of instinct, but as you felt a warm presence, you looked up and found yourself face to face with your linen wrapped savior once more.

“It’s you,” you gasped in relief. The ringing of the guns suddenly sounded distant.

The mask started to peel away on its own, revealing none other than Marc. He breathed your name, “Are you alright?” 

“It’s you!” you sounded stronger that time, in total shock that it was Marc the whole time.

“I told you I wasn’t making fun of you,” he flashed a quick smile before he turned serious again, “I don’t have time to explain now,” he said, “I’m going to fight these guys off. You need to hide somewhere until they’re dealt with. I’ll come find you when it’s safe, I promise.”

The intruders and the guns were more pressing at the moment, so you swallowed and nodded. 

When Marc found an opening, he pushed you towards the door, “Go!” he shouted as he turned back to the intruders and fought them off.

You ran. 

Running on pure instinct, you bolted down the hall and turned a corner into a closet. Luckily, no one was around and you hid yourself well. You crouched in the corner as you listened to the grunts and gunshots in the distance. At one point, you covered your mouth to stifle a scream, suddenly scared for Marc. You fought back tears, swearing to yourself that you wouldn’t cry. 

Just as you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, the fighting stopped. Silence filled your ears but you didn’t dare move. Your hands trembled slightly against your face as you strained to hear the one voice that would bring you comfort.

And then you heard it.

Marc called out your name as he stood in the hall, frantically looking for you, “Baby it’s alright. You can come out.”

You let out the breath you held, all your fear escaping with it as you leapt up and out of your hiding spot. Down the hall, you saw Marc standing there, his knighty suit still adorning his body but his face exposed. “Marc,” you breathed in relief as you ran towards him.

“Sweetheart,” he sounded just as relieved as he ran towards you with open arms. 

The two of you crashed together in a messy embrace, emotions getting the better of both of you. He rested a hand on the back of your head while the other pulled you in as close as he possibly could. Tears flowed from your eyes as relief washed over you, yet the pulse of fear still ran through you after everything that happened. Vaguely, you heard Marc whispering soft words of encouragement and reassurance in your ear. 

“Come on,” Marc said, “I’m getting you out of here,” he slid his hand in yours.

“But…” you tried to protest, not wanting to leave any of the artifacts alone.

“It’s ok,” he gave you a soft smile, “They’re dealt with. Right now I want to make sure you’re safe.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to process everything. So much happened in such a short time, and you weren’t sure how to react to it. Time passed in a daze as you found yourself at Marc’s place, settled comfortably on his couch with a mug of tea in your hands. You felt safe with him, of course, but you felt like you were outside your body.

The two of you talked for what felt like hours. Marc told you everything- all of his secrets that he kept hidden for so long. He promised you that he would always protect you, and he explained why he didn’t tell you before. As he talked, the sound of his voice calmed you, like an embrace of your heart. Your eyes moved from where they stared at the mug to meet his gaze.

“I promise you, baby,” Marc cupped your face, “Nothing’s ever going to happen to you. I’ll keep you safe no matter what.”

Heat rose in your face, and you were sure Marc felt how warm you were. But, as you stared into his eyes, you felt your heart flutter and his charming gleam sent a rush of fresh emotions through you. Without a word, you closed the gap between your bodies, crashing your lips together. Muffled groans echoed between you as you climbed into his lap and Marc instantly helped you closer. Deepening the kiss, you felt a tingle on your skin as you tasted him, and you felt the reverberation of his moan against your body.

“What was that for?” he asked in a whisper, “Not that I’m complaining.”

You smirked against Marc, “I wanted to thank you properly,” you breathed, “With a real kiss this time.”

Marc cupped your face as he gazed into your soul through your eyes, “Baby…” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for another kiss.

This time, it felt different. It was desperate and heated, but there was also the warmth and passion behind it. You moaned into Marc’s lips as you rocked your hips against his. He tightened his grip on you as a rush of need pulsed through his veins, and he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched underneath you.

Breaking away for air, Marc saw the look of wanton need in your eyes, and he knew exactly what you were thinking, “Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You cupped his face, brushed your fingers along his dark curls, “I’m sure,” you whispered as you kissed him again, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you paused before you sheepishly added, “I’ve wanted this so so long…”

Marc grinned, his face lighting up, “Then let’s do this right.”

Shifting your bodies, Marc stood up and extended his hand. You eagerly took it and allowed him to lead you over to his bed. Excitement bloomed between you and before you even made it to the bed, your hands were all over each other. Kisses decorated your steps as you each tugged at the other’s clothing until you were bare.

You and Marc crashed into his bed, and he quickly laid overtop of you. He paused for a moment, breathless as he took in the sight of you bare underneath him, “Fuck you are beautiful,” he breathed.

“So are you,” you sighed in pure admiration as you grabbed his face and yanked him in for another kiss, “We can take our time later,” you murmured between kisses, “I need you too bad right now.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he rocked his length along your folds. It didn’t go unnoticed that you mentioned a next time either… But your moan broke Marc out of that thought, and a shiver ran up his spine as he felt his cock against your pussy, “Wet already,” he smirked.

“Please Marc,” you pleaded. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he moaned as he lined himself up with your entrance.

Slowly, carefully, Marc pushed himself into you, causing you both to gasp at the same time. You clawed at his arms, holding on for dear life as the slight burn of his cock stretching you out went jolts of pleasure through your body. Fresh tears filled your eyes at the sensation, and you never felt more alive, more pleasure than ever before.

“Marc…”

He groaned your name as he bottomed out inside you, “Fuck,” he breathed. Marc cradled your face as he rocked in and out of you, slowly at first, but the more you moaned the faster he moved, “You’re perfect,” he moaned, “Shit…”

“Fuck… Marc… You feel so good,” you moaned as you saw stars every time his cock slammed into you.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the tingles of your approaching climax. Your legs trembled on either side of Marc’s body as he thrust into you over and over again and you dug your nails into his soft skin as you clung to him. Incoherent praises flowed from his lips as both your moans grew louder and louder as you lost yourselves in each other.

“Marc… I’m…”

“I’ve got you, baby,” Marc repeated his words from earlier.

Skin slapped against skin as Marc felt his own climax apparach. But, he was determined to send you over the edge first, and with just a few more thrusts of his hips, he got what he wanted. With a loud scream, you came hard, crying out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. And fuck you had never looked more beautiful to Marc.

He kept up his pace as long as he could, watching the show you put on just for him and savoring every second of it. But, Marc’s eyes started to roll back as he felt his orgasm quickly build, egged on by the way you clenched your inner muscles around his cock. And with a groan of your name, he came right after you, spilling himself into you as he did so.

Marc collapsed on top of you, completely spent. But, after just a few breaths, he shifted himself, pulling out of you with a hiss before he laid next to you. You let out a whine at the loss, but quickly curled yourself up in his embrace as Marc held you close. You closed your eyes as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heartbeat against your ear.

“Marc, I…”

“Shhh,” he gently hushed you, “Just rest now baby,” Marc cradled your head as he placed a soft kiss, “I’ve got you.”

You hummed contently as sleep quickly took you over. Between the excitement, the danger and the rush of emotions, you suddenly found yourself exhausted and in no time you feel sound asleep in Marc’s arms.

Marc stayed awake for some time, listening to the sound of your heavy breaths. He knew exactly what you wanted to say, and as much as he wanted to hear you say those words, he knew it was better to wait. He gave your body one extra squeeze before he whispered to your sleeping form, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart… I love you.” 

[nickfowlerrr]

patience

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smuuuuuut (mainly m receiving).

words: 2k.

notes: i think i’ve used this gif before but i’m running out of gifs to use lol i’m gonna have to start making my own headers again soon. anyway, this is just a little smutty fic based off a small prompt list i saw recently. (222: “come here.”) i also wrote a very soft drabble based on the same dialogue that may or may not be posted here eventually. okay, anyway, enjoy! thank you in advance for reading and as always, feedback and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated! 🩵

“Come here.”

His words, though they sound like a soft command, are more of a gentle plea as he watches you from where he lies in bed.

A small smile forms on your lips as he speaks. You take a moment to finish rubbing in your moisturizer, your routine done for the night as your eyes move to meet his in the mirror.

You smile bigger and turn around to slowly make your way across the room to him. You can feel his anticipation to get his hands on you grow with your every step. You let your hips sway as you move closer, loving the way his eyes follow your body, his lids falling heavy as he pushes himself to sit up.

You’re wearing his favorite set, the lavender satin against your soft skin.. You were just begging to be touched. In fact, you’d been waiting for him in nothing more than this for hours. But he got home so late, covered in sweat and dirt all over his clothes, you sent him to the shower with just a chaste kiss as his face fell at your dismissal - his hands lingering on you as you slipped away from him to start taking your makeup off and get ready for bed.

He’s been watching you since he got out of the shower, climbing into bed in just his boxers as he waited for you as patiently as he could.

You want to see how much patience Bucky has left.

You watch his tongue dart out over his lip as his fingers twitch along his thighs, bringing your attention to his growing need.

Passing by the bedroom door, you stop to flick the lights out. All three switches. One by one, taking your time.

His impatient whine at your detour has you biting your lip to keep your smile at bay, though he can still spot that amused glint in your eyes, even through the darkened room.

“Sweetheart, please,” he groans, “I haven’t seen you all day, come here.” He coaxes you over, spreading his legs and reaching his arms out for you, a pout forming on his pretty lips.

He was still lit up by the bedside lights, the lights that were guiding you to him.

“Poor baby,” you coo in faux pity, finally standing before him. You let your hand drag up his thigh as you walk closer. You put one knee on the bed as you lean in to place a soft kiss on his pillowy lips.

Bucky tries to deepen it as his arms wrap around you and pull you closer.

You smile against his lips as you crawl fully onto the bed, straddling him as his hands smooth up and down your back now. He stares up at you as you part from him ever so slightly, his blue eyes shining. He looks at you like you’d hung the stars.

“I missed you,” he breaths.

“I can tell.”

You can’t help the smirk that effortlessly forms on your lips as you run your hands over his bare chest. You push your hips back and sit on his clothed erection. A hiss escaping him as he grips your soft waist, his eyes falling shut at the feeling of you on top of him.

“Missed me quite a bit, didn’t you,” your voice teasing.

“Yes,” he answers with a deep moan as you slowly roll your hips over his.

“And now I’m here,” you begin, leaning closer to brush your lips over his, “you’re quite happy, aren’t you.”

“Yes,” he moans again against your lips. They are so, so close to his, he can hardly think straight.

“And if I wasn’t here?” you question, pulling away from him as he chases your touch before you press on his chest, urging him down. Your strength is no match for Bucky’s. You both know he could easily have you on your back in a flash, but he falls to your touch, his pink lips part on an exhale as he watches you atop him, mesmerized.

A shudder runs through him as you let your hand run from his shoulder, down his chest, along his stomach until you get to the band of his underwear, snapping it lightly.

“What would you be doing if I wasn’t here?”

It wasn’t a real question, you both knew that. Bucky opens his mouth to try and formulate a sentence through his lust filled haze but you stop him.

“Don’t tell me. Show me,” you whisper, your dulcet voice laced with desire.

Bucky is stunned as you lift yourself off of him. He watches you settle on your knees beside him before you start pulling his underwear down for him.

“I know you want to,” you rasp, your heavy gaze never leaving his beautiful face as you free his straining cock and rid him of his boxers. You sit back up and kiss his stubbled cheek before whispering in his ear, “Come one, baby. Touch yourself for me.”

He lets out a soft groan as you guide his hand to his cock, wrapping it around himself before you guide it up and down his shaft. You watch his face as his eyes flutter shut at the motion.

You take your hand off of him and he looks at you as you nod, urging him on.

You watch intently as Bucky moves his hand along himself, pumping his shaft slowly but firmly.

You crawl across the bed to your nightstand and grab the nearly empty bottle of lube from your drawer before returning to his side.

You shake the bottle and squeeze the contents into your hand, only a pathetic spurt being released. You tsk before tossing the bottle to the wayside.

“Aaaah,” Bucky breathes as you rub the lube on your palm over his tip while he continues pumping his dick in his hand. You lean over and lift your eyes to meet his as you hollow your cheeks to collect your saliva in your mouth before you spit down on his cock. His thighs tense as your spit eases his strokes. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans as he works himself over a little faster.

You're tempted to stop him now and just wrap your mouth around his cock, but you won’t. You enjoy this too much, his cheeks growing pink and his puffy breaths as he jerks himself off. It’s a sight to behold, truly.

Instead you lay your head in his lap, let your hand rest on his lower abs, enjoying the way he tenses every now and again. Your fingers idly play along his happy trail before tracing the vein that leads to his cock, stopping as you near the base of him as to not interfere with his touching.

Your name can be heard falling from his lips in whimpered pleads before they’re overpowered by his deep groans and growls.

Bucky’s idle hand crawls along your chest and you let him grope your breasts as you watch him still. Your nipples are hard beneath the satin material of your bra and you revel in the feeling of Bucky’s hand on you. You slip your hand under yourself and unclasp the bra, pulling the garment off for him as he moans and runs his thumb over your nipple, earning a moan from you in turn before you decide to grab his hand and sit up. You turn your head and as you see the beads of precum leaking from his tip, you can’t help but lean down and lick them off as Bucky keens.

You move up his body and meet his lips, kissing him hotly. You bring your hand up to his face, caressing his stubbled cheek before working your fingers into his mouth. He obliges you, humming around your digits.You pull them from him before you settle back down into your spot, head on his lap as you lay perpendicular to his body. A breath leaves you as you relax into the mattress, content to watch Bucky get himself off while your hand slips into your panties, your fingers still wet with his spit playing in your own slick before you slide them inside you with a small moan. Your eyes are glued to Bucky as you watch his fist tighten around his dick - his eyes on you as you play with yourself. You can tell he’s close as his neck strains and he bears his teeth. You move further into his lap and stop your play, instead focusing completely on Bucky. Your face in his crotch, you let your tongue slide out and along his balls, a heavy groan falling past his lips as you lick him, his hand moving faster over his cock. You gently suck one into your mouth, letting your tongue massage him before you suck it off and let it go with a gentle pop, taking the other past your swollen lips and paying him the same attention. Bucky’s broken moans and whimpers fall freely from his lips, curses and your name intermingled as he begins to fully lose himself to the pleasure.

You watch as his tongue pokes out past his lips as he tries to hold himself back, a strangled noise leaving his throat as his body tenses. He’s kneading the tip of his cock as you play with his balls.

“Fuck - yes, baby, yes,” he calls out to you, voice tight, “fuck, please, sweetheart,” he begs.

You feel a sense of pride rush over you as you realize he’s asking for your permission. You sit up and get on your knees between his legs as he pants, his groans and growls growing louder the closer he gets.

“Where do you wanna come, baby?” you purr.

“Oh fuck,” he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before he returns his tortured gaze to you. “Oh god,” he moans headily, “fuck, baby, let me come inside you,” he mewls, “please.”

You bite your lip and waste no time in slipping off your panties before you straddle him. You feel his cock pressed against your wet pussy as you grip his length, his hands now grabbing your hips as you line him up to your slick entrance. You slide down on him and moan in sync with Bucky as he fills you perfectly, the way he always does. The stretch of him inside you is intoxicating. You aren’t surprised when you immediately feel his dick throbbing along your walls, his come filling you up as you watch in awe - his beautiful face twisting in his pleasure.

His hands are still gripping your hips as he thrusts up into you, riding out his orgasm before he loosens his hold on your hips and relaxes under you, panting before he starts to catch his breath.

You lean down and press your lips to his, kissing him lovingly as he smiles into it, wrapping his arms around you before flipping you onto your back easily as he hovers above you.

“You did so good, baby,” you praise him as you take his face in your hands, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Yeah?” he smiles coyly, melting into your soft touch.

“Mhm,” you hum, a contented sigh escaping you as you settle yourself further into the mattress, your hands dropping to the blanket beneath you, getting ready to sit up so you can pull it over your bodies.

Bucky’s deep laugh catches you off guard as you look up into his eyes, still swimming in lust as he licks his lips. He grabs your wrists in his hands and pulls them above your head as he drops his head to your neck, kissing your sweet spot as he nestles himself better between your thighs as you gasp lightly, a small moan tumbling past your lips at his attention.

“What?” he mumbles against your throat before picking his head up, “you think you can just lay down and go to sleep now?”

Bucky lets go of your wrists as he drags his palms over your breasts, squeezing you before he moves down your soft torso, his kisses ceaseless against your skin as you arch into his touch. “I’ve missed you all day, sweetheart. I’m gonna be makin’ up for it all night,” he assures you with his charming, toothy grin as you titter under him with a soft smile of your own. You dutifully spread your legs wider for him, ready and wanting for whatever he has in store.

[spectersgirl]

what if harvey specter’s wife worked from home and has a last minute work emergency, so harvey had to take their daughter to work? hope that made sense 😭.

I loved this prompt! I changed it eeeever so slightly but it doesn't affect the overall product. I'm working on making these longer which does mean that it'll take me longer between posts but I'm hoping length makes up for it?? Or maybe this is too long. Idk. I've been writing it for daysssss. I think I don't love the end quarter or so, but I wanted to get it out there. Also I decided to name the daughter, I'm not sure how I feel about doing that versus just using Y/D/N so let me know what you all think? I'd use a different name each time I wrote something with a daughter in it so that it doesn't feel like a series or the same character in different universes.

-----

Work with Dad

Harvey Specter x Reader (except you're barely in it lol)

You rolled over at the sound of your phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand, fumbling for it and answering sleepily.

"Hello? Oh shit, okay I'm on my way." Immediately, you got up and began rushing around to get ready.

"Who's that?" Harvey mumbled, having woken up to your call.

"Work, there's an emergency and I have to go take care of it. I know you have to work but, I can't take Olivia with me to the restaurant and my parents work today... Do you think you could bring her with you?"

Harvey sighed, knowing you were right. It would be easier for him to bring the four-year-old with him to his office as opposed to the very high-end restaurant you ran. Normally on the days you worked away from the house Olivia was in preschool, but today wasn't a school day for her.

"Yeah, that's fine. I have a pretty easy day today, and it's been a while since she's seen everyone anyway." He said, getting out of bed himself and heading to take a shower.

You quickly yelled to him before you left, thanking him for taking one for the team.

Once Harvey finished his shower, he pulled a suit from the closet and put the dress shirt and pants on, opting to leave his suit jacket off for now, knowing he'd likely have to do some wrangling of a certain toddler. As he had this thought, tiny footsteps sounded down the hall toward the bedroom.

"Hi Daddy" Said the tiny voice of his daughter as she ran toward him, arms in the air.

"Good morning princess! How'd you sleep?" He asked, lifting her with ease and kissing her cheek.

"Good, where's Mama?" She asked, knowing the two of you normally got ready together each morning. She was pretty damn smart for her age, and Harvey knew this fact would get him into trouble someday.

"Mama had to go take care of something at work, but guess what? You get to spend the day with Daddy at the firm!" He told her excitedly, raising his eyebrows.

Olivia was hesitant at first, she didn't know exactly what it was that her dad did every day, but she saw him on his computer a lot, and that didn't seem very exciting to her. She was about to protest this, but then she remembered some of her most favorite people worked with her dad.

"Can we see Mike and Rachel?" She asked.

Harvey laughed, nodding.

"And Donna?"

"And Donna." He confirmed with a smile. "You wanna get dressed so we can go see them?"

Immediately, she began squirming to get down from his grasp. Harvey obliged, following the girl to her room to help her pick out an outfit. She eventually elected for her favorite pink dress with flowers, and Harvey approved, finding her a pair of shoes to match.

A short while later, Harvey and Olivia were headed up to the Pearson Specter offices. She couldn't stop talking about how excited she was to see everyone, and Harvey had to keep reminding her that they had work to do and that they might not be able to be with her as much as she had hoped. Harvey had packed a day's worth of activities in a backpack to keep the little girl occupied in his office, and hopefully out of everyone else's business.

The elevator doors opened, and Olivia nearly pulled Harvey's arm out of the socket trying to get to her favorite people as fast as she could. He scooped her up into his arms, foiling her plans. She adorably crossed her arms in frustration, making Harvey chuckle as he walked toward his office.

"We just have to drop our stuff off in Dad's office first, then we can go see your friends, okay baby?"

She agreed, understanding that the quicker she cooperated, the quicker she got what she wanted.

Harvey put all their stuff down in a small pile on the couch in his office, telling himself he'd deal with it later. He knew Donna wouldn't be in for a little longer as he was earlier today than he normally was, but Mike and Rachel were more than likely already hard at work.

"Alright princess, wanna go see Mike?"

Her eyes went so wide Harvey thought they'd pop out of her head. He laughed and opened his door, pointing down the hall and following as she ran ahead of him. She nearly missed his door she was going so fast, but stopped herself when she noticed him seated at his desk.

"Knock before you go in, Liv" Harvey reminded the girl, grinning when her tiny fist tapped the glass of Mike's office door.

He looked up, not seeing her at first and waving Harvey in and looking back down at his stack of papers.

"You're in early, something wrong?" "MIKE!!!" Olivia yelled, startling the junior partner before realizing what was going on.

"Livi! How's my favorite Specter?" He asked, getting out of his chair to lift her into a bear hug.

She giggled uncontrollably until he set her back down.

"Well, I'd be offended but she happens to be pretty cool, so I'll let you have that." Harvey said, grinning as he watched his daughter run in circles around Mike's office while he chased her. There wasn’t much space in the junior partner's office, so the chase didn’t last very long.

"Where's Rachel?" Olivia wondered out loud. Mike kneeled down to her level.

"Rachel has school in the mornings, so she won't be here for a little bit longer." Mike explained, but this only confused her further.

"But... isn't Rachel a grown-up?" She asked, making Harvey and Mike smile.

"She's in law school, baby. Some grown-ups go to extra school so they can do their special jobs. Daddy went to law school too, and Mama went to business school and cooking school." Harvey explained.

“Did Mike to go extra school?” Olivia asked

Harvey and Mike share a look before looking back at Olivia.

“Mike’s a long story.” Harvey said.

Olivia seemed to be satisfied, or she stopped caring about his answer. Either way, she nodded and continued laughing and playing with Mike while her dad stood off to the side, only a little offended that she hardly even remembered he was still standing there.

He looked down at his watch, noting the time and figuring Donna was probably at her desk by now.

"Liv, do you want to go see if we can find Donna?" Harvey asked, and the little girl screamed like she was at a Taylor Swift show, jumping up and down with pure glee.

"Did she get this excited to see me?" Mike asked. Harvey chuckled, shaking his head.

"Not even close, sorry Mike. C'mon kid, let's go" Harvey said, lifting Olivia high in the air and onto his shoulders, holding tightly as he walked.

"Oh Donna, I have a surprise for you," Harvey said over the sounds of his daughter's laughter.

"Well, I wonder what the surprise could be! Hmmm, is it a pony? Oh a pony wouldn’t fit in the elevator… Maybe you should give me a hint." She said facetiously, acting as if she had no idea Olivia was there.

"It's me!" Olivia yelled, unable to keep the ‘surprise’ of her presence in any longer.

"Oh it’s Olivia! Hi beautiful! That’s a way better surprise than a pony!" Donna exclaimed. "How'd you get so lucky to come to work with your dad?"

"Her mama had a work emergency so daddy got to take her in with him, huh Liv?" Harvey explained, and Donna nodded in understanding.

Olivia nodded, smiling down at both Donna and her dad, still up high on his shoulders. She reached her arms toward Donna, so Harvey lowered her to the floor. Donna quickly scooped her up and placed her on her hip, giving the girl hugs and exaggerated cheek kisses.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, who let you get so big?”

Olivia pointed at Harvey, smiling happily.

“Umm no ma’am, I specifically told you to stop growing, if it were up to me you’d still be my tiny little baby.” Harvey said, poking her side playfully. She giggled, pushing his hands away with her tiny ones.

"Have you had fun so far Livi?" Donna asked, and Olivia smiled and nodded profusely.

"I ran down the hall soooo fast and Mike chased me in his office and then me and Daddy found you!"

"Wow Olivia! That sounds like a really cool morning!" A voice said from behind. Everyone turned to see none other than Jessica strutting down the hall.

Harvey knew Jessica wouldn’t particularly love the idea of his four year old daughter hanging around in his office all day, but he also knew there was nothing else he could do. He was a parent above anything else, so he was going to do what he had to do.

“Livi, do you remember Jessica?” Harvey asked.

Olivia nodded, a bright smile on her face.

“It’s great to see you again cutie” Jessica said with a smile of her own.

“Look I know you’re probably mad but-“

“Harvey relax, I’m not mad. Just as long as she doesn’t get into anything she shouldn’t, she's welcome here." Jessica stated, easing Harvey's mind. He nodded in understanding and watched as she walked back to her office.

"Alright Liv, I've got some work to do in my office and I brought you some fun stuff to do while I work. Maybe later we can come back out and see Donna if she's not too busy, alright?"

Olivia huffed in disappointment, but she knew better than to fight with her dad. He placed his hands out to grab her from Donna, who regrettably handed her over. She had known the little girl since before she was even born, and she loved her like she was her own blood.

Harvey was actually able to get some work done, and Olivia enjoyed her time coloring in her coloring books and playing with the toys her dad had packed for her. Soon enough, she was hungry for lunch and Harvey took her into the kitchen to retrieve the lunchable he had brought her. Eventually, she grew tired and ready for her nap. When Harvey looked over at his couch after a suspiciously long period of silence, he saw her fast asleep. He smiled, standing and taking his suit jacket off, draping it over her small frame. She napped this way for about an hour, and when she woke up, she was overjoyed to learn that Rachel had finally come to the office.

"Rachel!!!" Olivia yelled in the doorway of Rachel's office, and she was quick to run in for a hug.

"Livi! Hi cutie! I heard you were here today, I couldn't wait to get done with school so I could see you!" Rachel said as she scooped the little girl up for a big hug. Olivia wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck happily.

"Do you have fun at big girl school?" Olivia asked.

"Law school is very different from normal school, so it's a lot harder, but it's what I love doing so that makes it fun!" Rachel explained.

"Do you get to color there?"

"No, theres no coloring. There's lots of reading and talking to other students and learning though!"

"I think I like my school better, we get to color and play and sing!"

This made Rachel laugh, and nod her head.

"Keep it that way as long as you can girly." Rachel said.

"Liv, it's almost time to go home. You wanna come say goodbye to everyone?" Harvey interrupted from the doorway.

Olivia nodded sadly, crossing the room to take her father's outstretched hand.

"Bye Rachel, have fun in big girl school."

"I will, bye Livi"

Harvey led her back through the office, stopping at everyone's offices so she could say her goodbyes, stopping at Donna's desk last. She gave the red-haired woman the biggest hug she could, Donna was her most favorite person after all.

When Olivia got home, she was thrilled to find her mom was there waiting for her and Harvey with dinner in the oven. She couldn't resist telling her mother about every last detail of her thrilling day at her dad's job.

"Well that's exciting! It sounds like you were a good little employee for daddy" You mused, looking up at Harvey with a grin.

"She's the best damn paralegal I've ever had. Might just have to hire her" Harvey joked.

"Does that mean I have to go to big girl school? That sounds really not fun."

You and Harvey laughed.

"Baby, if you don't want to go to big girl school we can talk about that when you're older." You reassured.

"You think with that attitude she has she won't want to be a lawyer like her old man?" Harvey said, smirking.

"Oh, she'll want to be in debate before she hits high school."

[angstywaifu]

Can We Not - Brennan Sorrengail x Reader

Request by @xceafh - “can our goal be to not die today?” “that seems like a lot to ask...” A/N: First time writing for Brennan so I hope you all like it! Thank you to those who have sent prompts in, they have all been amazing and I have so many ideas for them. Keep sending them in!

Masterlist

As per usual, our meeting had formed into an argument. And about the same things they always thought about. I had thought after being gone for a bit after the Athebyne incident that they would have moved on. But no, here they were arguing over Violet and her allegiance. Could she be trusted, could any of the Basgiath cadets be trusted. I was tired of hearing the same argument and I could tell Garrick who was leaning next to me on the wall felt the same way as we watched them bicker.

“You would think after all this time, they’d realise that she’s actually on their side.” I mutter to Garrick.

He chuckles and nods his head. “You would think so, but that would require them having common sense.”

”Common sense isn’t very common any more.” I reply as I nod my head at what is meant to be the group of people leading the rebellion.

We’d been in here for an hour, purely to talk about what we were going to do with so many dragons and cadets that still needed training. As well as those who had graduated and abandoned their posts. With still more to come. And now we had the issue of no way to supply the Gryphon Riders with the weapons they needed from us.

”Look, we can’t keep having the same argument. What’s done is done and we need to keep moving forward.” Brennan says loudly, cutting off the argument in front of him.

I looked up at him and could tell he was equally done with the spectacle in front of him as he narrowed his eyes at the group now frozen and looking at him.

”He’s right.” I say as I step forward from where I stood off to the side with Garrick. “We need to start making plans on what we do next. How do we get the Gryphon Riders the weapons we’ve promised them, what do we do with all these cadets, and how are we going to feed and defend the number of people we now have. Because those numbers will grow.”

Brennan looks at me and smiles. Over the last few months he and I had grown close despite how little I had been here. But with how close I was to Garrick and Xaden, I had been here quite a bit and helping in anyway I could.

”We cannot handle any more numbers.” Someone objects.

”Well we need to find a way to. Those cadets are going to want to keep their families safe, and I can guarantee more riders will make their way here after hearing what happened at the Quadrant. So I suggest you stop arguing and start coming up with a solid plan.”

”How da-”

”How dare I say what needs to be said? You lot need to stop bickering and accept that fact Violet is on our side, and we now have the riders you lot had been complaining we didn’t have. Yes it is un expected, but they are here now. So make a plan.”

The person I had cut off just stares at me in shock . I had spoken out of turn and technically over someone that out ranked me. But it needed to be said. They look at Brennan and Xaden as if they expect them to scold me, but both are trying to hide their smiles and failing miserably.

”And on that note, I propose we send riders to the towns and bases on the borders. See if anyone is willing to come here and join our cause.” Xaden says as he motions to the map laid on the table in front of us all. “Or if they are wiling to trade with us. We need to get our food supply up. As well as needing a way to feed the dragons.”

I retreat from the table and join Garrick back on the wall. He shakes his head at me.

”That’s one way to shut them up.” He whispers to me as the group in front of us start planning who would be going where.

”We both know it needed to be done, otherwise we’d be here for weeks trying to form a plan. And by then it would be too late.”

Garrick nods in agreement and turns his attention back to the group in the middle of the room. I turn my head to do the same and meet the amber coloured eyes of Brennan. He smiles softly at me, almost as if saying thank you. I offer him a quick smile before turning my head as a small blush works its way onto my cheeks. I swear I seen him chuckle.

After an hour of back and forth and only some bickering, I have my orders. I am to take letters from the cadets to their families to offer them shelter and salvation in Aretia. It wasn’t meant to be risky, but we had no idea what lay ahead now. No one on the inside to relay where units would be stationed, if they had moved on, strengthened their numbers. We were going in blind.

The armoury was empty when I entered. Either the riders had already been to claim their weapons, or they had enough already on them. I had sadly not been able to grab as much of my stuff before rushing to aid Xaden with his plan before rescuing Violet. Meaning I was very low on weapons. I’d only had time to grab the one weapon I knew I would need. My daggers. The only weapon that could kill a Venin. And I would hopefully not be encountering any of them. A voice behind me startles me as I grab a knife off the wall, sending it clattering to the ground.

”I thought I was sending you somewhere relatively safe.” A familiar voice teases from the doorway behind me.

I turn to see Brennan leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches me. A smile forming on his face, showing off his dimples. The sunlight behind him amplifying the red in his hair.

I roll my eyes at him as I kneel down to pick up the knife I had dropped. “Yes, but you never know what could happen out there. Especially at the moment.”

He nods his head slowly as his eyes follow me as I move around the room looking at my options. I finally spy a small cross bow high up on the wall. I try to reach up and grab it, but I’m just to short to reach. I go to hoist myself up on the bench to grab it, but a hand on my exposed waist from where my shirt has ridden up stops me as I freeze in place. Brennan moves into the space next to me and easily reaches over me and grabs the cross bow before holding it out to me, his had still on my waist.

”True, but can our goal be to not die today?” He asks, his voice so quiet and gentle.

I take the cross bow from him and move out of his grip. “That seems like a lot to ask.” I say, my voice shaky as I place the cross bow on my pack.

Dammit, I had forgotten to grab the bolts. As if conjured by magic, a hand reaches into view, bolts held in their grasps. I reach out and take the bolts from Brennan’s hand.

”Must be if you’re forgetting the ammunition for your weapons.” He teases as if he knows the effect he is having on me.

I shove the bolts into my pack before making sure everything is secure. Brennan watching my every move.

”Someone’s gotta make sure your signet is still working.” I try to joke as I hoist the pack onto my shoulder.

I go to walk past him and leave, but his hand reaches out and grabs me by the elbow, turning me back to him. I look up and meet his amber eyes. His other hand reaching up to cup my cheek. My breath catching in my throat.

”As much as I appreciate you making sure my signet is in working order, which I can assure you it is. I’d rather not use it on you.” He whispers as his thumb strokes my cheek.

I merely nod at his, causing a smirk to spread across his face before rushed footsteps come towards the door. Brennan removes his hand from my cheek just as Garrick appears in the door. He opens his mouth to say something but stops, his eyes moving between the two of us before he smirks at us.

”We’re about to leave.” He says as he looks back at me and motions with his head to follow him.

”I’ll be right out.” I tell him as confidently as I can.

Garrick nods before stepping back into the hallway, least he was nice enough to wait outside for me.

Brennan grasps my chin between his fingers, angling my face back to his. “Now can we please make sure our goal is to not die out there?”

”Depends, what do I get for returning safely?”

Its so fleeting I barely have time to register what's happened as Brennan places a soft kiss to my lips before smiling and walking out of the room.

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Dumb Lucifer Scenario Dump

Here are just a bunch of like random scenarios that popped into my head; usually when I was half asleep or hadn't slept for several days. Im not going to do anything with these beyond this post so if someone wants to like turn these into a short story or comic, feel free. Just link back and give me credit for the idea please ~<3

WARNING: Actual brainrot below the cut. Not beta read we die like men -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Who Needs Magic Anyway? ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

(Little bit of context; this idea came about because I was talking to @writteninlunarlight-years about the whole 'there is only one bed trope thing)

Lucifer and reader are both drinking together. They both get so plastered that the reader cant go home on their own and Lucifer cant make a decent portal. (The portals keep fizzing out, going to the wrong places.... Point is he cant do it right atm).

So Lucifer offers to have the reader stay with him for the night. Even in their drunkin state, the reader side-eyes Lucifer at his offer and the guy just keeps digging his hole deeper Saying stuff like:

Lucifer: I-I meant we can sleep together as friends. Reader: *blinks* Lucifer: WAIT-

Lucifer even offers to make you one of those stupid pillow walls in between you two if your really that uncomfortable. What a gentleman

Anyway, you both eventually end up in his bedroom and Lucifer changes into duck pajamas (because of course thats what he has. what else would the guy have really). Then you both look at each other awkwardly as you both realize you… don't exactly have anything comfortable to sleep in.

Lucifer quickly says that its fine! He will just magic you up some pjs! Easy! Well. The problem is when he does this, his alcohol infused brain defaulted the entire concept of sleepwear to mean 'Lucifer’s sleepwear.' So when he zaps you, you end up with a perfectly matching set of ducky nightshirt and pants to Lucifer’s very own.

Lucifer immediately wants to die.

Bonus: This entire thing has now made me headcanon that Lucifer cannot control his magic when he is drunk

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Playing the Hero ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

NOTE: I used a spider here, but really it can be any bug. Or whatever you want. I just did a spider because fuck spiders, and the idea of Lucifer cowering at a mini Angel Dust was very funny to me

Its late at night and as usual Lucifer cannot sleep. Lucifer is suddenly disturbed however, by the reader in their adorable pajamas. They are looking around nervously, with their hands hidden in their sleeves.

The man is immediately ready to do anything they ask cause they are just so darn cute.

The reader sheepishly asks him if he can kill a giant spider that has decided to make itself at home in their room. Lucifer, ever the sin of pride, (and maaayyybe wanting to impress them a little), excitedly says that of course he can! Completely pushing away the fact that, he too, is afraid of spiders.

They both go to the reader's room and as soon as Lucifer sees the spider he panics a little. (”Oh god, that is actually a big spider.”, ”Why are its legs so long??”)

Wanting to play the hero but also not wanting to go anywhere near the accursed thing, Lucifer thinks itll be a great idea to just- zap it.

Well, the thing is Lucifer’s hands are very shaky at the moment, due to a combination of having all the reader's attention on him and the fear of holyshitspider. So when he tries to zap the thing he completely fucking misses like an idiot.

The spider goes flying toward the two of them, resulting in both of them bursting out of the room screaming bloody murder and waking up the rest of the hotel.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Don't Overthink It ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

(Again, inspired by @writteninlunarlight-years specifically her post about Making Flower Crowns for the Hazbin Men. This prompt takes place during Valentines Day, but you can easily modify it to be during a different holiday. Can be platonic or romantic.

Valentines Day comes around, and you decide to gift one to the infamous King of Hell. Because youll be sending it anonymously, you decide to go all out. You get him a super nice duck themed gift, handwrite him a card, as well as get him a stunning bouquet.

What you didn't anticipate however, was Lucifer completely losing it when he receives the gift. Apparently its been decades/centuries since he last received a Valentine, let alone one as nice as the one you gave him.

He was the King of Hell after all. You assumed he got a million Valentines automatically because of his position. I mean, Alastor got piles of them so why WOULDNT the King of Hell?

Because of its anonymous nature, Lucifer's ever romantic heart gets obsessed with the Valentine. You love bombed the poor guy on complete accident. Lucifer starts trying to do his own little 'investigations' to figure out who made it for him, like comparing different handwritings to the one on the card and such. Lucifer even starts daydreaming about who it could be and imagining what they are like.

(if its romantic) Your afraid to tell him you did it because you don't want to complicate your friendship with Charlie. A part of you also feels guilty that you somehow managed to put yourself on such a high pedestal in Lucifer's eyes when... your just you.

(if its platonic) You don't want to break Lucifer's heart and tell him that you just wanted to do something nice. You feel guilty for getting his hopes up for something/someone that doesn't exist.

BONUS: At some point in the story, the reader walks by a trashcan/dumpster full of Valentines meant for Alastor that he clearly just trashed right away. Alastor hates Valentines day because everyone wont. Stop. BUGGING. HIM.

[reotheworld]

all the world's a stage as you like it

❝ the one and only you, you're my celebrity ❞

➜ how yandere!manager!alexis ness is with you

➜ fem!reader (idol!fem!reader)

sugar level: 20% & 100% | cw: knife, possessive and obsessive behavior, suggestive themes, cursing, controlling tendencies, let me know if i missed out on anything!

an: i was supposed to make this with kaiser but all my creativity budget went to ness-

• behind his sweet smiling facade is the most loyal, devoted and dedicated manager ever to work with you. he's not leaving his position anymore. why should he? he knows you like the back of your hand, even with his eyes closed, he knows what your curves and breast size are. • despite the gender cross of work, you'd think ness is the strict type of manager. the ones who'd scold you if you show up on set or studio late, not getting your lines or choreography correct, but actually he's the opposite! • has these little stars and hearts in his eyes as he watches you behind the scenes. he'd clap his hand happily at you when you've done a good job. • he makes it a point to get along with you. wanting to know the big and small details of your life. • never ever leaves your side. he follows you like a dog follows it's master. it's okay, he gave you the handle of the leash anyway. • highly speaks of you! every time you're brought up or at least someone mentions your name, all words of flowery praises and compliments roll out of his lips. • doesn't handle criticisms thrown at your way very well! if the director of the commercial or photographer you're working on tells you that you're not doing a good job, you can bet alexis is already cursing at them. saying that they're the ones not doing their job perfectly. • behind closed doors, he's already threatening them that if they talk down at you again, he wouldn't hesitate to slit the knife he's holding against they're neck. • you could just be standing there, wearing the ugliest clothes or your hair is not cooperating with you but alexis ness would still look at you like you're responsible for the sun, moon and stars in the sky. • ultimately hates fan signing! he doesn't see the point why you have to smile, hold hands and talk to your fans, especially the male ones. • he's the one who is clearing and leading you to the path of fame you oh so deserve. so please only smile, hold hands and talk to him. fans are only to admire you from afar. • as the event ends, he is quick to sanitize your hands with wet wipes and alcohol. • he's responsible for the fans' gifts not reaching you too. they're only good decorations when it comes to taking pictures. after that, he'll take them away to never be seen again! • absolutely loves it when you share your personal life to him! even when he doesn't ask for it, it feels as if you're letting him inside your heart. don't worry, he'll be the one to close and lock the door! • have a male idol or actor sending you a love call? alexis is already besides you, whispering manipulating negatives he made up to your ear. • "he's no good at all. i heard that he's actually responsible for tearing apart his female lead star's family." • the paparazzi complimenting your dress on the red carpet? thank alexis for that! he's always responsible for the dresses and other outfits in general you wear! • he knows what's good for you. listen to him. • one time, when a certain media outlet spread a rumour about you and alexis are dating, he did nothing at all to shut it down. in fact, he prompted the rumor to keep going! • reason for that? the fans found out his personal instagram and all the posts are nothing but with you and about you, captions that contain "fleeting" emotions and cryptic messages that one can interpret on their own. • the type to offer to put lotion on you and massage it across your skin when you're tired after a long day at work. • but honestly he's just looking for an excuse to be able to touch you! getting to stand by your side is one thing, but to be able to touch you in sensitive and sensual areas is another. • "i-is this okay...?" • "yes, y/n. does this side of you still hurt? come and let me massage it for you." • also the type to give you those types of hugs that lasts longer than intended. • doesn't care about his salary. money comes and goes, all he wants to do is to be by your side forever. • but you don't know all of that because in your eyes, alexis ness is the best and most caring manager you have!

[gogotti]

Happy (late) B-day! Michael Myers/GN!Reader - NSFW

me writing a Michael fic again, who would have thought? Anyway, this was supposed to be for his birthday but I did not finish it in time. This was also gonna be a kinktober thing, and even though it's November I'm still gonna post it under my kinktober tag lmfao.

This fic's prompt was Tied Up & Nipple Play

Warnings: Reader is def giving dom vibes in this one, Michael is tied up and he loves hates it, he growls a lot too, obviously lots of nipple mentions, Reader praises him a lot, I'll say slightly subby Michael cause that's the vibe I was feeling writing this, Michael cums untouched.

The sight before you, Michael decorated with pretty rope, and the redness of his skin was enough to make your knees weak. You couldn't help but ignore his silent grunts and stare at him as he leaned against the headboard, staring at you with a mixture of hatred and desperation. You sat between his spread legs and slowly trailed your fingers up his thighs, watching as his muscles tensed and flexed as you got closer to his aching cock.

You cooed, “Don't worry baby, the birthday boy will get his present very soon.”

He growled at you, and you knew he was regretting letting you tie him up. You simply smiled at him, narrowly missing his teeth as you attempted to brush a piece of hair back behind his ear. You gave him a disappointed look, and for a moment he looked to the side, ashamed, before huffing at you in anger and continuing to glare like before.

“I thought you were gonna play nice Mikey?”

He rolled his eyes, and a part of you did too; how are you going to ask the boogeyman of Haddonfield to play nice? Michael never played nice, you knew that firsthand. You shrugged, deciding to let him keep his attitude, you were already pushing your limits by tying him up. You couldn’t help but sit back and look at his tied-up form and feel a bit of confidence at the fact that you had managed to capture THE Michael Myers; a man who has been evading the law for a long while now.

He huffed at you again, his long hair flying for just a second and revealing his pale eyes. You slowly reached forward and cupped Michael’s face, this time hissing at him when he nipped at your palm.

“Look at those pretty eyes, let me see those eyes baby.”

He let out a sharp exhale and tilted his head upward, allowing all of his hair to fall back and reveal his eyes. You hummed in approval, and you just barely caught his cock bobbing slightly at the attention.

“You're such a pretty boy, Michael, y’know that?”

He continued to stare at you, and you let your hand fall to his chest, then let your fingers dance along him until you brushed past his nipple. Michael didn't react, but his cock bobbed slightly at the feeling, giving him away. You lightly brushed your fingers back and forth and watched as his eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. The light touches didn't last long, as you suddenly grabbed his nipple, twisting slightly. His head lurched forward, and he bucked his hips toward you the best he could.

You smiled, and you pretended not to hear the growl that Michael let out above you. You continued playing with his nipples, watching him huff and grunt while trying his best to get some sort of friction. You brought your other hand up to his nipple, making sure to lightly touch his cock on the way up. He bucked his hips again but failed to get any friction, his sigh of anger soon turned to one of pleasure as you now had both hands playing with his nipples. You leaned in toward him and kissed along his chest, listening to his soft breaths and gasps.

“You want me to use my mouth, Mikey?”

You could feel his hair move as he nodded his head, and you quickly indulged him. You swiped your tongue around his nipple a few times before pulling at it with your teeth, then moving over to the other one and doing the same thing. You smiled at the light feeling of his cock bobbing against your shirt, and you continued to tease him with your tongue, now changing the rhythm of your biting. You hummed as you felt the tip of his cock brush your stomach, and suddenly he lurched forward, your humming pushing him over the edge. He twitched as he came, painting your stomach with his cum and whimpering above you. You slowly came to a stop, letting your hands fall to his thighs and rub them.

He huffed above you, and you leaned back to look at his face, which was completely red. You smiled at him, watching as he avoided eye contact. “I didn't know you liked that so much, Mikey. I didn't even have to touch you.”

He looked up at you, his face slightly twisting into a glare, and lunged, a low growl coming from him. You heard the unsettling snap of what you hoped was not the pretty rope you tied him up with, and you could only smile at him nervously as the loosened rope began to fall from his body.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

Like the slumber that creeps to me

My first fic for @painlandweek has been posted! You can either read the first few scenes below or find the whole thing here on AO3.

Prompt: Sickfic

Length: 13.5K words

Rating: T

Warnings: none

Summary: While on a case, Charles falls victim to a cursed necklace that causes everyone who touches it to sicken and die. While his friends frantically search for a way to break the curse, a weakening Charles has plenty of time to think about his feelings for his best mate.

Excerpt:

“I fear that I will never understand the living,” Edwin says as they climb the seven flights of stairs to their office on the top floor. He hasn’t groused about not being able to mirror travel with Crystal tagging along once, which tells Charles how off-kilter tonight’s case left him. “They hear about Hell, renowned for being the worst place in existence, and they think, ‘perhaps I should create something just like that and keep it in my pantry.’ Honestly.”

“I don’t think you can blame that on the sorcerer being living,” Crystal says acidly. She doesn’t sound even a little out of breath; she’s acclimating to this climb. “You can blame it on him being a toxic douchebag who wanted to punish his enemies so badly he couldn’t wait for Hell to do it.”

“And now he’s a toxic douchebag stuck in a pocket dimension of his own making, isn’t he?” Charles probably should feel a little bad about trapping the sorcerer in the fire and brimstone hellscape in his pantry, but the way he sees it, he was an evil cunt who had it coming. Russell Mathers had been a surprisingly powerful, if self-taught, sorcerer and he’d used all that power to enact revenge on his enemies. Except, he’d had a very loose definition of what made an enemy: his victims ranged from an academic rival to a colleague that had spurned his advances to the twelve-year-old neighbor boy that trod on his lawn one too many times.

It had been the twelve year old’s spirit who had brought them the case, sobbing in their office about having escaped from the fires of Hell. Edwin’s hands shook for the rest of the day and for that alone, Charles couldn’t feel too bad for closing the door to the pocket dimension in Mathers’s smug fucking face.

“Anyway, it’s done with.” Charles pushes the memories of the raging inferno of hellfire inside the dimension away. He’s been trying real hard not to “keep things bottled up,” like Crystal accused him of doing, since Port Townsend, but this is one thing he thinks he can bottle up for now. “Sorcerer can’t hurt anyone anymore, his victims are avenged, and your wards should stop anyone else from wandering in, Edwin. Case closed.”

“Job officially jobbed,” Crystal and Edwin say at the same time, then look at each other suspiciously. Charles grins down at them. It’s adorable how surprised they both are by the fact that they’re friends now.

“And now I think we’ve earned a break, yeah?” Charles pushes open the door of the office and finds the Night Nurse standing there, standing with her arms folded over her chest and a narrow-eyed look like she’s just caught them out past curfew.

“Evening, Charlie,” Charles says brightly, just to see her eye twitch. Look, he’s mostly forgiven her for cornering him and Edwin in Port Townsend and accidentally getting Edwin sent to Hell, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think he’s earned the right to needle her a bit.

“You’re finally back. I was starting to think you were out… gallivanting.” She says “gallivanting” in the same tone she might accuse them of attending a drug-fueled orgy.

“Oh yeah, loads of gallivanting.” Charles props his elbow on Edwin’s shoulder. “Right, Edwin? We gallivanted right into a sorcerer’s house, where we saved the latest girl he’d tossed into a pocket dimension full of hellfire.”

“And kicked him in for good measure,” Crystal adds.

Charles nods. “It was a real good time. You should have been there, Charlie.”

“You would have loved the pocket dimension.” Crystal smiles in a way that suggests she would have dropkicked the Night Nurse in herself, given half the chance. Charles and Edwin may have mostly forgiven the Night Nurse for Port Townsend, but Crystal never will. She doesn’t take people fucking with Charles or Edwin kindly. Charles finds himself smiling at her dopily and has to turn away. He catches Edwin shooting Crystal a fond look and finds himself smiling dopily at his best mate instead, which isn’t any better.

“Well, now that you’re back, there’s another case,” the Night Nurse says huffily. “And she’s been waiting for hours.”

“Already?” Charles was about to suggest a night of playing Cluedo and not thinking about any fire and brimstone pocket dimensions. “We just got back.”

She glares at him. “Death waits for no one, young man. If you wanted leisure, you should have moved on to your tranquil afterlife.”

Charles grins at her. “And miss your smiling face? Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Edwin steps forward with an exasperated sigh, though Charles isn’t sure which of them his exasperation is aimed at. “Who is the client?”

***

Miss Paula Morris appears to be somewhere between forty and fifty, with a cloud of long, silvery blond hair, horn-rimmed glasses, and dangling earrings shaped like goldfish. She doesn’t appear to be a madwoman, but that seems to be the only explanation for the story she’s telling them.

“So, your beau knew the necklace was cursed when he gave it to you?” Edwin stares at her across the desk, pen poised over his notebook. The living—or in her case, the very recently living—continue to confound him. “And you accepted the gift? Willingly?”

“Oh, yes.” Miss Morris smiles a little sadly. “Raymond knew how much I like spooky stuff. He was always doing thoughtful things like that.”

“Spooky stuff,” Edwin echoes.

“Oh, the usual things. Tarot decks, Ouija boards, cursed dolls.”

He suppresses a shudder. “And so he gave you a necklace that purportedly causes everyone who touches it to sicken and die within three days.”

“He said he found it on Ebay.”

Edwin turns to Crystal helplessly.

“It’s like an online auction house.” She pats him on the shoulder. “I’ll show you later.”

“Raymond didn’t think it would actually make me sick,” Miss Morris says. “Just like my cursed dolls didn’t actually put me in an eternal sleep.”

Edwin shudders again.

“So Raymond gave you the cursed necklace.” Charles leans forward, wearing that winning smile of his. “What happened next?”

Miss Morris’s smile dims. “The next day, he called me and said he felt like he was coming down with something. I felt fine until I was coming home from my book club that night and I started feeling faint. It just felt like the flu. I was tired, a little dizzy, and I had a fever. I couldn’t stop sleeping. Every time I talked to Raymond, he sounded terrible, and then he stopped taking my calls. Yesterday morning, I fell asleep and when I woke up last night, I was dead.”

Edwin gives her a moment to collect himself, cognizant of Charles and Crystal’s lectures on bedside manner. “And Raymond?” he asks after what he feels is a sensitive amount of time, at least ten seconds.

She sniffles. “Oh, he died right around the time I fell asleep. His daughter is the one who found my body when she came to tell me this morning. Otherwise, I don’t know how long I would have laid there.”

“And you’re sure it was the necklace?” Crystal asks.

“I don’t know what else it could have been. Raymond and I were both perfectly healthy up until the day after our date. Three days later, we were both dead.”

“Did he say anything about the seller?” Edwin asks quickly, because he can see Miss Morris is getting emotional.

She shakes her head. “Just that the necklace came from America.”

“Thank you.” Edwin jots that down in his notebook. “We typically do not carry out revenge missions and even if we did, the person who sold Raymond the necklace is most likely beyond revenge. If this necklace’s magic is as potent as you say, it’s safe to assume that they’re already dead.”

“What Edwin means to say.” Charles props himself on the desk, all easy charm. “Is what can we do to help you move on?”

Miss Morris smiles at him, because people are always smiling at Charles. “The necklace is still in my house and my sister and niece will be coming up tomorrow to go through my things. I don’t want them to find it and touch it. It’s a beautiful emerald necklace and green is their favorite color.. I’m afraid that if one of them finds it and takes it home…”

“That they’ll become victims of the curse too,” Crystal says when she trails off. “So you want us to break into your house and get the necklace?”

“Yes, please.” Miss Morris reaches up to toy with one of her earrings. “Allison and Maeve are my only family. I’ve already lost Raymond. I don’t want anything to happen to them.”

Edwin closes his notebook and exchanges looks with Charles and Crystal. It seems like a straightforward case, just the thing after the ugly business with Russell Mathers and his pocket dimension. The sorcerer was just the latest in a line of harrowing cases and Edwin knows his partners are starting to feel the strain. If all they have to do for Miss Morris is break into her home and steal a necklace before tomorrow, this should be a simple affair.

Charles nods and Edwin turns back to Miss Morris. “We’ll be happy to take your case, Miss Morris. But now, the matter of your payment.”

***

“Dear lord.” Edwin stares around Paula Morris’s house with the expression of someone who’s found himself back in the depths of Hell.

“Come on, mate.” Charles nudges him in the shoulder. “It’s not that bad.”

“It is that bad. How on earth are we supposed to find anything here? No wonder she can’t remember exactly where she left it. Amelia Earhardt’s lost plane is probably hidden somewhere among this rubbish.”

Paula Morris’s house seems like exactly the type of place that would belong to someone who’d fancy a cursed necklace as a gift from her boyfriend. It’s covered from wall to wall in stuff: old-timey portraits hanging on the walls, knick-knacks cluttering every surface, too much mismatched furniture for the small space. Charles kind of loves it, but he can see how it would overwhelm Edwin.

There’s a knock on the door behind them. “Are you going to let me in, or should I stand on a dead lady’s porch all night until the neighbors come over to see what I’m doing?”

“Sorry, Crystal.” Charles turns to let her in with an apologetic smile.

She looks around with a raised eyebrow. “Holy shit.”

“I know.” Edwin sighs. “It’s dreadful.”

“I don’t know, it’s kind of cute. Definitely fits Paula’s witchy vibe.”

“Should we expect to find a giant snake in the basement?” Edwin asks acidly, pressing on before anyone can answer. “We only have a few hours until Miss Morris’s relatives arrive, so we should start our hunt. Crystal, you take the kitchen and the powder room. Charles, you the living room and office. I’ll take the master bed and bath.”

Charles frowns. “You think it’s a good idea to split up? Splitting up on the last case almost got Crystal dragged into a pocket dimension.”

“I do not believe we have to worry about any pocket dimensions this time, Charles. The woman handled a cursed necklace on purpose. A magical mastermind she is not.”

“You know most people don’t really believe in curses, right?” Crystal says. “It’s the same reason little girls play Bloody Mary at sleepovers. They don’t actually expect a knife-wielding ghost to pop out of the mirror.”

“They should,” Edwin says. “Charles and I encountered Bloody Mary herself on a case in 1993. A very unpleasant woman.”

Charles shrugs. “She wasn’t that bad.”

“You only say that because she told you that you had a lovely smile before she tried to stab you.”

“I do have a pretty nice smile, don’t I?” Charles grins at him.

Edwin turns a bit pink around the ears. “She certainly thought so,” he says and turns on his heel, striding down the hall towards the bedroom.

Charles instantly feels awful. In the months since Port Townsend, he keeps finding himself saying shit like that without thinking. He doesn’t mean to tease Edwin or play with his feelings. But he can’t stop himself from testing the waters, seeing if Edwin still feels the way he did back then. They haven’t said a word about Edwin’s confession on the steps of Hell since they returned to London. It would almost seem like a hallucination his terrified mind conjured, if not for the fact that every detail still plays in vivid color in his head every time he has five minutes to himself to think.

He doesn’t want to hurt Edwin. He’d rather cut off his own hand than ever make Edwin doubt he’s the center of Charles’s universe. So Charles doesn’t know why he can’t stop trying to see if he can make Edwin blush.

“Guess we’re splitting up.” Crystal gives Charles a look that’s a bit too knowing, then picks something off the kitchen table.

“Don’t pick up any necklaces,” Charles tells her as he heads towards the master bedroom.

“Thanks, Charles, I was definitely going to pick up every cursed necklace I find. How else would I want to spend my weekend, except dying slowly of a magical illness?”

Charles doesn’t know why he surrounds himself with so many adorable, brilliant smartasses. He goes into the living room to poke around a bit. He doesn’t see any necklaces, though he does find a half dozen half-drunk mugs of tea, several lost earrings in between the couch cushions, and a crystal ball that he slips into his backpack to give to Crystal for her birthday because she’ll hate it. He’s checking under the couch when he hears a sound he’s been constantly listening for since Port Townsend: Edwin’s terrified scream.

Charles phases through the wall in an instant, cricket bat already drawn and ready to go. But he doesn’t find a giant snake, a demon ready to drag Edwin to Hell, or even a mad sorcerer with a penchant for pocket dimensions. Instead, he finds Edwin standing in front of an open closet, grip on the door white-knuckled and eyes enormous. On the top shelf of the closet, there’s a row of glassy-eyed, chubby-cheeked baby dolls.

“Bloody hell, mate.” Charles puts his hand over his chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Apologies.” Edwin swallows hard as he steps back from the closet. “They just startled me. I’m being silly.”

“Nothing silly about it.” Charles looks at Edwin’s frozen expression, far too close to the one he wore while watching a demon made of baby dolls tear his body apart, then turns to the row of dolls. With a single swing of his cricket bat, he knocks the baby dolls over, sending them shattering to the hardwood floor. Bits of porcelain scatter everywhere and a single blue eye stares accusingly up at Charles. He crushes it under the heel of his boot.

“That was unnecessary,” Edwin says peevishly as Crystal comes skidding into the room.

“Are you both okay?” Crystal asks.

Edwin heaves a sigh. “We’re fine. Charles was feeling… dramatic.” But there’s a soft curve to his lips as he ducks his head and Charles feels his own lips curling into a smile in response. “You do realize one of those dolls was allegedly cursed, don’t you, Charles?”

Charles shrugs. “What are the chances Paula got her hands on two genuinely cursed objects?”

“I hope you’re right, because if we find ourselves haunted by a cursed baby doll, you and I will have words.” With one last glance at the heap of broken dolls, Edwin turns away.

Charles hesitates, not wanting to leave Edwin again, not so soon after hearing him scream. There may not have been any real danger, but there could have been. Looking around, he catches a glint of something green in the bathroom.

“Hold on.” Charles ducks into the loo and sure enough, there’s the necklace that Paula described, a gold chain with a pear-shaped emerald pendant, haloed by tiny diamonds. It sits on the counter next to the toothbrush holder, probably removed right before Paula went to bed the night she went out for a nice dinner with her boyfriend for the last time. “Found it!”

“Excellent work, Charles.” Edwin follows him into the bathroom, looking pleased, and Charles can’t help but feel the usual warm glow he gets whenever his friend tells him he’s done well.

“It was right out on the counter,” Charles says. “Not much detective work required, was it?”

“Still very well-spotted.” Edwin holds out a hand and Charles reaches into his bag to produce a magnifying glass. Edwin bends to examine the necklace closer. After a moment, he says, “I see no runes or other obvious signs of a curse, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. We can perform a closer examination back at the office.”

“Aces.” Charles reaches for the necklace.

Edwin grabs Charles’s wrist, his grip tight enough that Charles can almost feel warmth, like he’s a living boy with a living hand touching him. “Careful.”

Charles blinks down at Edwin’s elegant fingers, unsure why the sight of them gripping his wrist makes him feel strangely off-kilter. “What? This is what we’re here for, isn’t it?”

“That necklace has killed at least two people that we know of. Until we know more about this curse, caution is in order.”

“Right.” Charles looks up at him, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “Mate, I’ve got some bad news for you. You might want to sit down.”

Edwin rolls his eyes at the ceiling, like he knows what’s coming. “Charles—”

“See, I’ve been dead since 1989. You were there, remember?”

“It rings a bell,” Edwin says, clearly trying his hardest to look annoyed.

“And I know it might be a shock to learn your best mate of thirty-five years is a ghost—”

“Are you quite finished?”

Behind Edwin, Crystal snorts.

Edwin turns to glare at her. “Do not encourage him, Crystal, I beg you.”

“I hope we can still be friends.” Charles can’t quite suppress a giggle. Then Crystal starts to laugh and Charles can’t help it; he starts too.

“You are both insufferable,” Edwin tells them gravely. “Can we please get on with the case?”

“Got it, mate.” Charles snatches up the necklace. At Edwin’s incredulous look, he shrugs. “Should I have asked it nicely to get into my bag?”

“I was going to suggest using a towel.”

Oh, right. Charles hadn’t thought of that. He drops the necklace into his bag and flexes his hand. “I’m wearing gloves, aren’t I? Everything’s aces, mate.”

Edwin sighs. “Crystal, please remind me to discuss Charles’s impetuous behavior once we’ve seen Miss Morris off to her afterlife.”

“You say we need to discuss that at least once a week,” Crystal says. “Twice so far this week.”

“And this time, I mean it.” Edwin looks around the bathroom with an imperious air, probably judging the smears of toothpaste in the sink and the mismatched towels. “Now, let us please exit this den of chaos. I shudder to think what else is in here.”

***

“You really do need to be more careful, Charles.”

“Can’t lecture me during boxing lessons, mate. If you’re distracted, that means you get two lessons this week.”

“That was not part of the agreement.”

“I’m the teacher, aren’t I? Think it’s the agreement if I say it is.”

Edwin huffs. It’s just before dawn, Crystal is back at her flat with Niko, the Night Nurse is off doing whatever she does when she’s not assigning them new cases, and he and Charles have a rare moment of peace. A rare moment of peace that Charles has insisted on sullying with boxing lessons, of all things. After Port Townsend, Edwin reluctantly agreed to one boxing lesson per week. He doesn’t think knowing how to throw a punch would have helped him against Esther Finch, the Cat King, or a demon from Hell, but it seems to make Charles feel better.

“You should know by now that, ghost or not, curses are not something that we trifle with.” Edwin throws a punch, which Charles easily blocks. “Do we really need a repeat of the Case of the Cursed Mirror?”

“That curse targeted ghosts specifically, didn’t it? I’m not going to get the flu from a necklace.”

“And you know that for sure, do you? Researched the origins of this curse thoroughly?”

He throws another punch and the next thing he knows, Charles has grabbed his arm, spun him around, and has Edwin’s back pressed against his chest, grip firm but gentle on Edwin’s wrist, which is pinned between them.

“That’s the third right hook you’ve thrown in a row.” Charles’s voice is low in his ear, sending a shiver up his spine. “What have I said about being predictable?”

Edwin is having trouble remembering any conversation they’ve ever had. Charles’s hip is pressed against his backside and it’s absurdly distracting.

“Being predictable gives your opponent a chance to plan their next move. You don’t want that. That’s how you end up in trouble.”

Edwin swallows. “And then you come along with your bat and get me out of trouble.”

“And what if I’m not there?”

“You will be.”

With a sound that’s half-laugh, half-sigh, Charles releases him, letting Edwin turn to face him. “Wish you had enough faith in me when it comes to cursed necklaces as when it comes to fighting.”

Edwin rubs his wrist, even though it doesn’t hurt a bit. Even if he were a human whose wrists could be bruised or broken, Charles would never be so careless with him. “And I wish you cared about your own safety half as much as you care about mine.”

“Not possible.” Charles’s eyes go soft. “I’d never get anything done, would I? I’d be too busy worrying.”

Edwin’s nonexistent breath seems to stutter in his chest. He doesn’t know what on earth he’s supposed to say to that. But before he can think of a reply, Charles steps back, stumbling over nothing and grimacing as he rights himself.

“Charles?” Edwin reaches out, ready to steady him if necessary. “Are you quite alright?”

“I’m fine, mate.” Charles flashes him one of those brilliant grins of his. “Just lost my balance.”

“If you’re not feeling well—”

“Oh, no, you’re not getting out of this so easy.” Charles raises his fists. “Try and hit me again. And if you throw another right hook, I’m tying that hand behind your back.”

***

“Charles, I think this is around where our client died, don’t you? It matches his description. The bend in the path, the pond, the bench.” A pause. “Charles?”

Charles blinks. “Yeah, mate?”

“Doesn’t this seem to be the place where our client died?” Edwin gestures to the park around them.

Charles looks down at the ground, half-expecting to see a chalk outline on the ground. But there wouldn’t be; their latest client is a middle-aged man who died of a heart attack during his morning jog, not a murder victim. There wouldn’t be a case at all, except that some prat stole the dead man’s watch, an heirloom inherited from his grandfather that he wants to pass onto his son, off his corpse.

“Seems like it,” Charles says when he realizes that Edwin’s waiting for an answer. “He mentioned the pond, yeah? And the ducks.”

Edwin pivots to face him, hands on his hips. “What on earth is going on with you today, Charles?”

“Me? Nothing at all. Just tired, is all.”

“Ghosts do not get tired.”

“We’ve worked ten cases in five days, Edwin. I was just hoping for a break after we found Paula’s necklace last night, wasn’t I?” Charles scrubs a hand over his face. His mind is filled with a kind of fog. It reminds him of the nights he would sneak out to go to concerts with his friends and still have to go to school the next morning, doing his best not to fall asleep during history class.

Edwin sniffs. “This is certainly a case that I can work on my own, if you’re not up to it.”

“Not going to leave you alone, mate. What if we’re dealing with a watch-stealing monster? Like that Fae we caught robbing houses in South Kensington?”

“I hardly think we’re going to run into another Fae with a penchant for stealing electronics.”

“I’m fine, mate.” Charles rolls his eyes up at the sky. “Let’s have a look around, yeah? Got to be at least one or two ghosts lurking around. Maybe one of them will have seen something.”

They do find a ghost, an old lady still sitting on the park bench where she died, probably around the same time as Edwin from the looks of her. She seems more interested in complaining about all the riff-raff in the park than answering any of their questions. Given the suspicious looks she gives Charles’s earring, he thinks she might consider him part of the riff-raff, so he lets Edwin take the lead.

It’s a beautiful day, late enough in the autumn that it’s bound to be one of the last beautiful days London gets for a while. Everyone seems to be out enjoying it; couples sit together on park benches, kids dart around the playground, a group of uni students are involved in a spirited, if amateur, game of rugby, joggers and dog walkers make their way along the path that encircles the pond. 

As Charles watches, a little boy dashes away from the playground, shrieking and laughing. His father lumbers after him, growling with his arms stretched out like a monster’s. A year ago, Charles would have squelched the sadness he feels at the sight. Now, he lets himself feel all the grief, anger, and disappointment that he never got to play like that with his own dad, because he had never once felt secure in the knowledge that his dad wouldn’t hurt him when he caught him.

The little boy’s father catches him, scooping him up into his arms, and the boy’s delighted scream seems to pierce right through Charles’s brain. Charles winces. All of a sudden, all the noise of the park, which had been a pleasant background hum, seems too loud. Kids laughing, parents calling out to their children, ducks quacking, the good-natured shouting of the uni students, music blaring from the speakers of a passing car. It’s all too much, like a physical pressure squeezing Charles’s head.

“Charles?”

Charles turns to find Edwin standing there, brow pinched in concern. The old woman has gone back to scolding passing children who can’t hear or see her.

“Charles, are you alright?” Edwin asks.

“Yeah, mate.” Charles grins at him. Should the sun be that bright? It like he can almost feel the heat beating down on his shoulders. He hasn’t felt the sun on his skin in decades.

Edwin’s eyes look startlingly green in the sunlight. They’re really nice eyes. Charles thinks he might tell him that, but everything is so loud around them and he’s not sure if the words come out. Edwin’s mouth is moving, that furrow in his brow deepening. Dark spots are starting to dance across Charles’s vision, but that’s alright, because he can still see Edwin’s eyes.

“I’m aces,” Charles tells Edwin, because he looks worried, right before the ground seems to shift under him and he’s falling, falling, falling…

***

Read the rest here on AO3!

[c0llisiion]

Pairing: suguru geto + f!reader

Genre: smut

★: npr, camgirl!reader , drabble , slight mention of vaping, toys, kinda pervy!sugu , squirting — lmk if i missed any!

W/C: 985

A/N: finally wrote for my mother and cunt lord Suguru geto <8 sorry for not posting! I just haven’t had the motivation to write :[ anyways enjoy!!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Suguru was a lonely person, for sure. He was quiet and had a small friend group in school. Always keeping to himself and just minding his own business. He never had a girlfriend, and it backfired tremendously as he reached adulthood. His coworkers banter about their wives and girlfriends almost every day, and he just stands there awkwardly nodding at their words since he has no story like that to add on. It was almost embarrassing, but it’s just fate, he guesses. 

Today was like every other day. He came home embarrassed and frustrated after a night out with his childhood friends. They teased and laughed at how he was still not able to find anyone, and he tried justifying that he couldn’t find the perfect girl. They even started suspecting that he might be gay or something. He plopped down on the bed and sighed in frustration, the conversation playing over and over in his head. He was stressed and angry, and he needed something to get some relief from.

He groaned before grabbing his laptop and typing out his go to porn site. It had all the kinds of videos he needed, and so he sat back and relaxed as he went through the various categories, but something caught his eye. It was a small tab. “Live sex!” Was blinking a bright pink. He had never seen that before. Maybe the site decided to partner with another entertainment site? Who knows? Out of curiosity, he opens the website, and immediately a bunch of live sex shows popped up. He was low-key overwhelmed and didn’t know which one to choose. He settled for a show that had a fairly good viewer count and number of likes. 

He gulped as he waited for the show to load and was immediately met by a beautiful voice giggling and laughing. His eyes fell on the body in front; he could only see the body, and the face was slightly covered by a sort of mask. He was intrigued, for sure. Your body looked so perfect and carved, and the show you were putting on? He whistled lowly as he watched a machine dildo go in and out of your little pussy. He quickly caught on to the fact that it was controlled by the users via tokens. He watched as your viewers flooded in tokens, prompting the machine to go faster and faster on your pussy. Your sweet moans and groans were like music to him. Something about you just… clicked. The way you would thank the users for their tokens and reply to each and every comment, he liked how you made everyone feel seen. Without hesitation, he made an account and made a huge purchase of the site’s tokens. His hands shook as he typed in his very first message. 

GS706

“Hey gorgeous” 

You immediately notice his comment and blow out your vape smoke before speaking. "Oh, look, everyone! We have a new viewer! Welcome to my little haven, sweets,” you say and chuckle. “There are no rules here, so you can be yourself, mkay?” Suguru started feeling excited. He smiled widely at the way you spoke to him and decided to start gifting you. 

GS706 gifted 100 tokens.

You gasp, “Thank you so much sweets, that means so much to me!!” 100 tokens were around 50$ so he was kind of happy that he made you happy. He typed in his next message.

GS706

“Do you do private shows, gorgeous?”

You catch on to his comment. “Mhm… But its a hefty price, are you sure?” 

GS706

 “Price doesn’t matter for you, baby.” 

You chuckle at his comment, “oh really now? Show me then, and then we can do a private show..”

He was confused. Show you? How can he show you? He looked at the chat to see whether they understood, and he quickly caught onto the fact that you were talking about the interactive toy. He smirked before using his tokens to set the toy at the highest speed, which was around 10,000 tokens. He clicked on the send button and waited for it to start. You were talking to your viewers when suddenly the machine started going at an inhumane pace.

GS706 gifted ULTRA HIGH for 2 minutes

You gasped and cried as the dildo went in and out of your pussy quick. You clutched onto your chair’s armrest as the dildo continued drilling into you. “Oh fuckkk!” You curse loudly. Your thighs started shaking, and your arousal coated the dildo. Suguru got extremely hard. His hardness was poking through his pants, but he was just drooling at the way your body responded to the machine. “Ssshit… baby… fuck…” Your thighs started violently shaking, and your body arched off the chair as you started reaching climax. You immediately grabbed your wand and put it on your puffy clit, helping you reach your high. Suguru swallowed hard as he watched you. “Just like that baby… keep going” he palmed himself slowly; his dick was rock hard. You writhed and moaned loudly as the dildo and wand drove you to your climax. The chat was going crazy at the sight. No one ever really made that big of a donation. The viewers piled up, and so did the likes. The chat members thanked Suguru comically for the donation. “Yes… yes… cum for me..” He felt like a huge pervert when he said those words, but he felt a huge dampness in his crotch as he watched you squirt all over the dildo and wand. Your legs shook, and you let out a guttural scream as you came. The machine slowing down, and the wand falling off your hands. You breathe shakily and steady yourself. “Thank you… Thank you so much…” He could practically see the smile on your face, and he knew the ‘thank yous’ were directed to him. He couldn’t wait to watch you more often. 

A/N: thank you for readingggg! Should i do a part 2? Sorry if it wasn’t upto par 😭 i just wrote this out of nowhere

Masterlist <3

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

@buckysleftarm replied to your post:

After reading this, I happened across this video: https://youtube.com/shorts/-X5l5GFeg1k?si=H2lrsmx0pv60wn1h They're not in our camp anymore and I wouldn't know how to view the non companions anyway on PS5, but it feels like she definitely is taking some time off from Selune without breaking her oath full?

I sure did use this reply as an excuse to mash out a giant post! Hope you don't mind.

I do actually love that you've brought this up, because I keep seeing variants of it around and have been wanting to comment on it, if for nothing else than to make me feel better. The gist of it goes something like this: after killing Lorroakan, Aylin's "Child of the Moonmaiden" ability no longer shows up when you examine her character sheet, meaning her immortality has been taken away, she is being punished by her mother, has broken her paladin oath, or is feuding with her in some other way. Now... people in the comments of that video sure have takes on Selûne and on Aylin and on paladin oaths and aasimar abilities in general that make giant question marks spawn above my head. 

Personally? I dislike it immensely and think it makes zero sense for a variety of reasons, both in-universe and out! To be fair, as with most headcanons and theories, I'd genuinely love to see someone get creative and do something interesting with it. But I have this knee-jerk reaction to it because so far I've only seen it in the context of people parroting it completely uncritically, just regurgitating it on endless reddit or forum or discord threads and what have you, and actually shutting down or completely derailing Aylin-related discussion. Which frustrates me, obviously, because I want cool, detailed, thought-out takes on my fave, always, and - to be really petty for a moment - since my fave isn't the fandom darling, I only get crumbs to start with! It grinds my gears because so very often I'll want to read this potentially interesting thread about a character I love, but nope, instead here's a dozen comments how "nah man she broke her oath and there's special oathbreaker paladin dialogue with her about it" - no there isn't. That's a very easily verifiable fact, my guy. You made that up, my dude. How dare you just go and make things up on the internet. 

A ton of BG3 discussion has been flooded with a weird wave of statements that are just put there as well-known fact but in reality read like "I heard from a friend whose uncle works at the Nintendo Larian department and he told him Halsin went on a special mission and killed Isobel a century ago because he wanted to emotionally compromise Ketheric but then playtesters reacted badly to it and Wizards made them take it out but it's still hinted in the game, and also if you use an Elixir of Hill Giant Strength and do an unarmed attack on the cart at the entrance of the Emerald Grove you can get Mew" and I find it so grating. And then people waste time debunking this and arguing in the same circles and nobody ever moves on to more interesting stuff. I say this, as if I haven't been an active participant of internet fandom for decades and have literally anyone but myself to blame here, hah.

For instance, the way you phrased it here, as Aylin herself taking a break or trying to step away instead of the "being abandoned and punished by her mother" angle from the video and the comments? That's something I think has potential and something I want to rotate in my mind - would she do it? Could she do it? What would this entail and what would it mean for her? What would actually be enough to prompt her to even try? And it's cool that a little gameplay mechanic thingy prompted that! However - and I'm keeping it kinda vague because I don't want to spoil you on things that happen after the point you seem to be at - if we're talking purely established canon things and not brainstorming an AU or a post-game trajectory for this character, there is nothing actually in the game to indicate Aylin is taking a break from Selûne or her duties, especially not to the extent of having any of her abilities suspended. Quite the contrary, in fact. Everything we get from her and Isobel after the Lorroakan situation is handled shows she is, for better or worse, very much resolved to be her old self and very righteously angry and smiting evil in her mother's name as the Sword of Selûne and actively engaged in protecting Selûnites Realms-wide, and she has her full set of powers and blessings while doing so.

In this essay I will In the rest of this post I will try to be less cranky and I'm going to get a bit technical to try to actually explain what is going on with the "Child of the Moonmaiden" ability.

TL;DR: the buff is disabled as soon as Aylin enters the wizard tower, before any fight or backbreaking or feelings of loss and sadness, likely for the purpose of you being able to win or lose the fight no matter if you side with Aylin or betray her. It is a purely mechanical contrivance and has no narrative meaning, nor is its presence or absence mentioned or reflected in the narrative at all.

Here's Aylin in camp just before being told about the wizard:

Here she is at the start of the fight, when she is sided with:

And here she is, when you side against her:

The above is an oversimplification, however, because the actual implementation of Aylin's immortality is a bit of a mess.

There are two implementations of her resurrection active in the game, and both are implemented as a Status: "GLO_NIGHTSONGRESURRECTION" and "GLO_NIGHTSONG_RESURRECTION". Now, I don't know what was going on there and I'm certainly not a Larian dev, but that underscore situation there is... weird. I also don't know enough about BG3-specific scripting yet to come up with an explanation on why there would be two variants of it at all - if anyone does, please let me know! I'm very curious. However, these two implementations of her resurrection ability work very differently, and you can see the effects of both of them in-game. 

The first one, GLO_NIGHTSONGRESURRECTION, is named "Moonmaiden's Reconstitution" and is tied to the "Child of the Moonmaiden" Passive (itself called SHA_NightsongResurrection, side note: GLO is the "global" prefix and SHA is a prefix that signifies the Gauntlet of Shar area in Act 2). This ability makes Aylin auto-stabilise when downed instead of rolling death saves, go into the kneeling stabilised animation where she can be helped up or healed just like your party members - you know the one, with the little asterisk hovering above them. Then on the start of her next turn she heals for exactly 1HP (unless she's under a healing-disabling effect, such as Bone Chill, which is why people have trouble with her in the Myrkul fight) and she has only her Bonus Action, the same as any other previously downed character.

Mechanically, it applies the "GLO_NIGHTSONGRESURRECTION_DOWNED" Status to her which modifies what happens when she is Downed to implement the above non-standard behaviour, and also does stuff like turn off her Moonbeam if she had it active.

The "Moonmaiden's Reconstitution" Status itself is completely invisible in-game: it has properties such as "DisableOverhead;DisableCombatlog;DisablePortraitIndicator" aka doesn't show up as that little text popup above the character, doesn't show up in the combat log, and doesn't have a visible indicator icon anywhere.

The description for "Child of the Moonmaiden" is:

"Blessed with the favour of a goddess, Nightsong cannot be permanently killed. When unconscious, [at] the start of her turn she recovers 1 hit point."

The second one, GLO_NIGHTSONG_RESURRECTION with the extra underscore, is a Status called "Nightsong Soars Eternal", and that one doesn't have any other Statuses or Passives tied to it, it simply resurrects her immediately when she dies, and at full health. When it triggers, you can actually see her portrait drop out of the initiative tracker at the top of the screen as if she completely died, and then she gets put in again. This one is active even when the first one isn't, so you can see it in places like camp after she comes back from Lorroakan, and after she comes back for the finale all the way until the end of the game - and by "see it" I mean since it doesn't have any Passive ability connected to it, you have to actually get Aylin killed to see it trigger (I'm so sorry Aylin, it was important for the post, I swear).

The description for "Nightsong Soars Eternal" is:

"Nightsong will be resurrected by the powers of Selûne whenever she dies."

In Lorroakan's tower, BOTH of these are disabled, and if downed, Aylin will just lie there as if she died for real with the little red skull and the "Dead" status until she gets rezzed for a cutscene after the fight or, if betrayed, you go to long rest and then come back to see Lorroakan's progress, at which point she will be up and in the cage with a total of 1HP and that "Soul Caged" status instead. 

Note again that she visibly has "Child of the Moonmaiden" disabled as soon as she enters the wizard tower area, betrayed or not, before she does anything to anyone. It's a way of making sure the Lorroakan fight is actually winnable/loseable/concludable without her getting stuck in that revive with 1HP at the start of her turn loop. "Nightsong Soars Eternal" also obviously doesn't trigger. Instead she says her "I will rise again!" line and stays down. She has every other ability and buff active normally, even ones that explicitly mention coming from Selûne, like her iconic following Moonbeam, for example, or her fancy unique Smite.

Again, significantly: she does not have her immortality buffs if you fight against her, either, betraying her and causing Selûne's wrath and desire to protect her daughter to manifest physically in the room, including empowering Aylin herself with buffs that are called things like "Moonmother's Embrace". See what I'm getting at?

Interestingly, she also doesn't have it when you first meet her:

What does this all mean? Well, I'd say that if we took every gameplay/implementation thing about this game as in-universe gospel, Aylin herself would look a lot different and be far more scaly, for one.

(Makes me chuckle every time.)

In all seriousness, though, if something as big as this happened to a side but still fairly prominent character, the game would tell us about it. Or at least make a bigger deal of it than the deactivation of a passive ability visible on the Examine screen that many people sadly don't really tend to look at and read.

And here's the best thing: nobody has to take my word for any of this, you can see for yourself, without actually knowing how to unpack game files or having my frankly ridiculous amount of hard saves! I think this is super helpful in general, especially for people playing on console:

Here's a link to a truly amazing and consistently updated resource - every bit of dialogue in the game, nicely parsed and laid out and super readable (as well as some additional tools to play around with). 

Here's a website where you can search inside BG3 scripts and other files and take a look at a lot of the nitty-gritty implementation stuff in a convenient way.

I recognise that I go way too deep into things and overstuff my brain with minutiae, but that's just how I work. I take forever to post anything anywhere on the internet because I just physically cannot click a post button without triple-checking everything and quoting and screenshotting things, even if it's the same thing for the twentieth time, and that's certainly a me problem. I very much don't expect people to do things my way, but I also find the games of telephone these things so rapidly become really frustrating, you know?

But my biggest problem with this particular Aylin thing - beyond the annoying preponderance of it, as I've already whined - is that in-universe it just makes no sense and I, an aasimar paladin enjoyer, personally dislike it.

Oath of Vengeance paladins abide by the following tenets: Fight the Greater Evil. Exerting your wisdom, identify the higher morality in any given instance, and fight for it. No Mercy for the Wicked. Chasten those who dole out their villainy by wiping their blight from the world forever.

Putting the rest of this post under a cut because it's long and ranty and you didn't actually ask for it.

My first problem: the common argument that Aylin is in the wrong for killing Lorroakan like she did because he has "done nothing to her yet", and that she breaks her Oath of Vengeance because she attacked him preemptively.

The man put a price on her head and sent violent mercs to beat her up and kidnap her. He tries to (temporarily) kill her and imprison her as soon as she refuses to cooperate by… demurely waltzing into the prison and putting the chains on herself? He knows exactly who she is, what has been done to her, and he wants to do it again - no, doesn't want to, he is actively doing it again. The fact that (if you side with Aylin) he fails mid-attempt doesn't make him innocent of it. He refuses to stop and, if denied, gets violent and murderous. 

Player: Have it your way. I'll bring her here. Lorroakan: Good. I was growing scared for you. The last person who disappointed me is suffering for it still. Do not return without my prize. Do you hear me? Good day.

Player: I'll think about it. Lorroakan: You aren't the only one who knows what's on offer for the Nightsong's retrieval. Consider carefully whether you'd like to see your fortune in someone else's hands. Someone who might slip into your camp at any moment, or harry you through street and inn until you're run ragged and surrender. The choice is yours: fortune or imminent death. I know you'll choose wisely.

Mark my words: the Nightsong is mine. With or without your help, she will ascend to her grand fate here, in this tower.

Player: You heard me. The answer is no. Lorroakan: Pity. Then again, perhaps word of your agonising death will draw your little friend to me. Myrmidons - imperatum!

He is fully equipped for it and has set up a whole magical trap and is just waiting for her to show up to trigger it, or for someone to drag her there against her will. He says she will go into the cage "kicking and screaming" and really, this is who she is wrong for "picking a fight with" and "attacking preemptively"? Surely nobody actually thinks that Aylin is at fault here or that she actually overreacted by killing him? I don't really want to go into some people's really, really shitty attitudes towards Aylin for sadly entirely predictable reasons but… man. She went over there and threatened him with violence, demanding an explanation after he sent cronies to attack her in her sleep? Wow, what a weird thing to do. Also, he literally is the one to attack first! She is there threatening and goading him, doing her little "face me charlatan" bit, but he is the one who sics the myrmidons on her (or the player) and actually starts the fight, every time. To be clear, I don't think this is very relevant at all, but people do seem to love bringing it up.

Is Aylin brash and reckless and clearly struggling after her captivity, dealing with rapidly flaring up anger and outbursts of violence - only ever, may I emphasise, towards actually horrid people, and she is really rather shockingly forgiving and tolerant of the player character messing with her? Yes! Does she seem to have that classical aspect of "she might go too far one day" or "she might lose herself in the anger and vengeance if she focuses on it exclusively"? Absolutely! Do I think she could have been, say, a Devotion paladin before her imprisonment and it might have been the betrayal and century in the Shadowfell that made her change to Vengeance instead? I love that idea! I also think it's likely she has just always been a very zealous, very smitey and offence-oriented Vengeance paladin, called Selûne's sword for a very good reason, fulfilling a very important role in the ongoing struggle against Shar.

And the whole problem is… Lorroakan will, as we've seen, not stop trying, and people like him will always be around and never stop coming after her especially now that the cat's apparently out of the bag after Balthazar, and Aylin needs to live with this, forever. That is why she is so messed up about this one rando wizard she's never met before. That is why this specific incident is so triggering for her. She has just escaped torment on a timescale that's not something the normal human mind can really grasp. "In this moment, I want for nothing." ended up lasting, indeed, barely a moment! Her mum is a powerful god and right now it seems that what Aylin actually gets from it is having a target painted on her back and, to quote Isobel, she can be hurt just like anyone else, she just gets to suffer longer! She keeps being dealt these shit hands and, yeah, it'd make anyone go… why? Seems unfair, right? What exactly is the point of this? 

The various dialogue options you have while warning her about Lorroakan's intentions and which include trying to convince her to just leave him be include her being so, so frustrated, and so understandably, it makes me feel horrible for her. 

She always ultimately goes to confront him, because she has no other real choice. He will keep coming after her, he will keep sending people after her, and she will never, ever get a bit of rest, and she's, what, supposed to go live in hiding somewhere if you convince him she's dead? Until the jig is inevitably up or this guy dies by someone else's hand? And there's also the element Aylin herself will point out if you keep her in the dark about the plot and Aradin and his cronies come to attack your camp: how long until someone hurts Isobel during one of these attempts or actively goes after her as a bargaining chip?

I guess I just genuinely do not understand the arguments about this guy who has been deliberately constructed to be a horrible, hateful piece of shit with exactly zero redeeming qualities, to an almost comical extent. He beats his apprentice and uses his assistant for target practice! He's a sick, sick asshole! His life's dream rests on kidnapping and enslavement! The guy is conspiring and trying to ally with Ketheric and Balthazar of all people: 

Lorroakan,

I have responded out of respect to my counsellor, Balthazar, who advises me that you may prove a loyal ally in the coming fight. I understand you wish to know about the soul cage which binds the Nightsong to me. Details, I cannot and will not provide. But the magic itself is necromantic in nature, designed by my aforementioned counsellor. I hope your curiosity is satisfied.

General Ketheric Thorm

This is who people think a vengeance pally will break her oath over? Over what, a technicality of who struck first? "Desecrating a corpse"? No, it was Ketheric she did that to, and nothing happened. She just finished this guy off in a violent and dramatic fashion. 

While you can play a paladin yourself and kill so many people in so many ways without anything happening, this is more of a consideration if you play Oath of Devotion or Ancients. It's also one that makes parts of the game harder - comically evil cultists torturing and executing prisoners cannot simply be attacked out of nowhere, and instead you need to announce your challenge first. You need to walk up to them and start talking, establish their villainy, and then fight "fairly". This is also partially an issue arising from the implementation of hostility flags and game logic, by the way. However, Oath of Vengeance gives precious few fucks about this and is a really hard oath to break. In fact, in a very similar situation to the wizard tower, in the House of Grief, you break the Oath of Vengeance if you spare Viconia - at that point lying on the floor soundly defeated and bleeding out much the same way Lorroakan was. Viconia who, may I note, never "did anything to you" but did harm a friend of yours.

Also, and this is a whole separate discussion, but... it's a FR DnD game. You kill bad guys in it. You kill vaguely morally grey, or even good guys in it. You and your friends kill so many people before this point. Multi-act quest arcs conclude with "go to place and kill someone". You mete out "justice" personally, repeatedly, and can harp on that fact, especially if you're playing a paladin. You don't exactly call the guards on people instead, even in the middle of the city. Ludo-narrative dissonance or no, why would this one wizard suddenly be different, and why would this one woman be singled out for a thus far completely typical approach and set of actions? 

My second problem: a great big "Selûne wouldn't do that". I understand Forgotten Realms "lore" is a giant unwieldy self-contradicting mess of a beast and I'm not saying people should be scholars of it to participate in the discussion, far from it, but I would like them to engage with what is presented in the game itself at least.

For the most succinct possible example, look at what Selûne does when Aylin is betrayed. She buffs her in order to enable her to violently and zealously win that fight. Literally empowers Aylin to smack her enemies around more and with greater strength and also burn them alive in holy fire. Not after she's imprisoned and well and truly "wronged", but during this fabulously absolving "mere attempt" on Lorroakan's part.

Also, may I point out the sweet little shielding- and healing-focused cleric of the same goddess is actively disappointed that you and Aylin won't let her come with to hit the guy a few times herself! This goes for the entire party of assorted weirdos, goody-good or otherwise, who firmly believe Aylin should just obliterate that guy. Like, c'mon, my man Wyll! (Super sad and touching exception: Karlach, if you've killed Gortash already. When she begs you not to tell Aylin about any of it at all and go deal with the wizard yourselves, just so Aylin can have a bit more peace and keep her sword sheathed for just a little while longer. Ow, my heart.)

In summary, basically, my twofold beef:

"Selûne punishing and abandoning her daughter for over-zealously defending herself" - nonsensical and uninteresting. Stops people from actually delving into and discussing the complexities of that relationship.

"OoV paladin broke her oath by killing an evil wizard who is actively trying to do horrible things to her and attacks her" - nonsensical and uninteresting. Let's instead actually engage with the material and discuss Aylin's trauma and how she might deal or not deal with it in good or bad ways. What would recovery even look like, for her. How does the way she intrinsically ties her entire being into being a smite-happy moon-magic knight play into it. Let's actually consider the weight and role of duty in her life and the wombo-combo of being an aasimar paladin, an existence with a very "purpose-made" aspect to it. You know, the good ol' Being A Sword thing, including being born into it. Combined with being rather suddenly rather intensely humanised by a loving relationship with a mortal woman, with all sorts of ticking clocks, unique challenges, and both past and pending tragedy there.

Or let's talk about the dissonance present in Aylin's cool and badass scenes of smiting deserving evil. Scenes that go into very violent and very over the top territory, that make you both cheer and cringe, that make a point of showing the other characters reacting in shock. Because I genuinely feel so bad for her and deeply worried for her, all while my silly little brain goes fuck yeah smite him shiny lady! Ooooh look, a flashy Aylin scene, ripping a deserving villain to pieces! But at what cost to herself? Feels so good to have someone deliver some justice! But if I think about it for 5 seconds I don't actually want her to - no, no, I do. I don't want her to have to, is the thing. (It's kind of like that one Gundam meme.)

I will conclude this mess by doing a salty little yeah. It's fine, this is fine, this is sadly pretty much part of the standard experience of liking a female character in fandom. God forbid women do anything indeed. Outside of a few select, narrow and highly dedicated circles, half the (scarce) posts about her are something that's either flat-out wrong, or just assumes the absolute worst of her and reduces her to two and a half shitty stereotypes, and half the fics tagged with her are actually about fandom's favourite two dudes and barely feature her at all.

And on that note, I'm off to actually be a positive force and poke at my own fic some more.

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Carmy had an anxiety attack and Sydney stopped it

The Bear | 3x3 | Hands

Let us not overlook the fact that this season Miss Adamu ALSO reverted another one of his attacks, just because we focus on her girlboss speech. OK? The girl bossing is great, sure, but that's not the point.

The point is that Carmy was having a stress-induced anxiety attack in the middle of service, which given S2 eps 9 and 10, was bound to happen this season, of course. And Syd stopped it. Very Sydcarmy material, IK. THAT IS THE POINT. But the B side of that point is that so far I saw NO ONE on Tumblr focusing on that part of this scene, unfortunately. Please make my day and correct me if I'm wrong. Show me a post where this guy is showed some compassion when analyzing this scene, and not a post just cheering up on her girlboss one-liner and butch-femme energy. It's like no one cares. Don't get me wrong, I'm ALL ABOUT that girlboss vibe too, one thing doesn't cancel the other one out in my book. But go ahead, show me that post that highlights his anxiety attack too when meta-analyzing that scene, I haven't found it yet. I'm not gonna lie, because of course I prefer to be right than popular: It pains me and infuriates me in equal measure that just because we all love Syd, some people seem to think that's some sort of license to completely disregard Carmy's mental health deprecating by the minute throughout the entire season, in a rather painfully obvious way, since he got out of that walk-in.

Anyway... Moving on. There's more.

Her words or even energy were not what calmed him down and prompted him to get out of the anxiety attack zone and collect himself, it was looking at her eyes. They locked eyes, held their gazes, and only then he was finally able to get it together. In that order, as can be clearly seen in the vid above. It’s the order what matters, he calmed down AFTER locking eyes for a moment, you can see the shift in his energy not as she was telling him she couldn’t babysitter him but AFTER looking at her with piercing eyes for a sec.

Anxiety attacks and panic attacks are not the same. I encourage you to do the research because if you really care you will and this post is not supposed to be educational, I'm not in the mood for that today, this post is cathartic for me. What I will say though is that patients with panic attacks also suffer from anxiety and can also have anxiety attacks. Some even find it hard to differentiate one from the other. Professionals don't. The difference is quite clear: The build-up, the symptoms, the intensity, the duration, etc. Carmy is a C-PTSD textbook case.

The stressor that triggered his anxiety attack this time around was the lack of HANDS, which can also be a metaphor for the lack of help Carmy gets. Syd is pretty much the only one who really helps him. Ever. He's surrounded by people, yet very alone. Granted, he's not the best at asking for help, and he's not the best leader either, and there's only so much Nat can do being in her 3rd trimester and all, etc, so like I said, it was bound to happen to him, and it did, and when it did, Syd put out the fire with her presence and her calm.

She didn't patronize him, he's not a victim around her, he's just himself. He's certainly not cool-relaxed Logan either, she's not his babysitter, and she's just as stressed out as he is, but she compensated his lack of temperance with her peace firmness, and he responded to it. Because even in the middle of an anxiety attack, Carmy never gets his eyes off the price. HE HAS TO WIN THAT STAR FOR HER, NO MATTER THE COST → She's his star.

Let us please also notice the fact that the C person MADE YET ANOTHER APPEARANCE IN THE MIST OF HIS ATTACK. That's the guilt I mentioned HERE, eating him away inside and causing him apprehension in the least convenient moment because once an anxiety attack strikes, your defenses are down and whatever you are trying to bury deep down your psyche comes up full force. So she keeps contributing to his anxiety even when they're not even together anymore. Classic.

He also thought about the other source of guilt that is eating him away, his fallout with Richie and how his Cousin didn't forgive him yet, even when he apologized to him and told him he loved him.

Another stressor: GUILT.

OK. Thanks for coming to my TED talk about how Syd calms Carmy the fuck down every single time and I need him to do the same for her in the hallway in 04x01 and return the favor, or I will set FX on fire. Because in case you didn't notice, this post was actually about THAT.

Bonus track: To calm down he willingly tried to think of things and people that bring him peace, and not only he definitely didn't think of C at that moment, he thought of Nat, of his time in CA and in Copenhagen, and this time around HE DID NOT ALLOW HIMSELF TO THINK ABOUT SYD, WHO HE KNEW WOULD HAVE ENDED THE EPISODE ON THE SPOT. He deliberately didn't. But she showed up and did the trick anyway:

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[amarayys]

DRDT CHAPTER 2 EPISODE 12 SPOILERS UNDER CUT

teruko with glasses oh my teruko with glasses oh my teruko with glasses oh my

okay so i think it's really weird how hu keeps interrupting nico and talking for them. i think hu might be faking being with nico in the morning. Some notes before we begin: I suck at theories. please don't bully me /hj Hu and Nico might (??) be OOC for this, forgive me. My formatting sucks, but I tried. This is not meant to be an attack on Nico, Hu, or anybody who disagrees with this theory. please don't burn me at the stake /j If I accidently use the wrong pronouns for Nico at any point, please point it out so I can fix it!!! I've proof read this like 3 times because I keep making mistakes, but I DONT TRUST MYSELF. IDK WHAT TO CALL THIS SECTION LMFAO First of all, Nico never actually confirms being with Hu in the morning. They actually don't comment or react to it at all as far as the viewers can see. Hu has also been speaking for Nico (and interrupting them) quite a bit whenever they start to try defend themselves for a lot of chapter 2. Even before the trial, Hu has never actually let Nico defend themselves, instead just shouting at anybody who even tries to suspect them. ACE ATTACK Before I go on, let me say - I *do* believe Nico was the one who attacked Ace, and they did it without any outside influence. Nico confirms that they did attempt to kill ace, (image) without any prompting from Hu. Maybe Hu was involved in some way - for example, maybe she lent them the wire? - but she could also be in denial that Nico would do anything like murder and Nico got wire from storage or simply just stole it from Hu, which is what they probably did. We've seen them steal before (cough cough ROSE TURPENTINE) . I'm actually not too sure which one it could be... or if it's something completely separate, but that's not too relevant to the main topic of this post anyway. i seriously doubt hu forced nico to kill ace and I think this theory is based on the fact people think nico is some weak little baby (btw this is not an attack on people who believe this theory) cough cough anyway

MOTIVES So...why would Hu lie? Why is Nico going along with it? Well, I have a few (shaky) ideas. 1. Hu came up with her and Nico's "alibi" in the moment, and it wasn't premeditated. Why? To keep herself and Nico (as she clearly cares for them) out of suspicion, whether they are involved in the murder or not Nico went along with it because they didn't want to be suspected, (we've seen them lie about what they were doing during murders in chapter 1 - where they claimed to be in their room while in reality they were walking around the place - because they didn't want to be suspected. They then proceed to heap blame on everyone without alibies to get suspicion off them, even though they had nothing to do with the case and were most likely just scared of being suspected as the blackened)

OR Nico didn't really notice Hu lying, and they were more focused on being interrupted. (again, nico doesn't confirm/comment on Hu saying they were together, instead focusing on how they keep getting interrupted)

OR

Nico is the murderer and is threatening/manipulating Hu to cover for them. This would be pretty ironic, seeming as many think it's the other way around... but Nico has no reason to go for Arei, and basically all the people left have more evidence against them, so I doubt it. Just thought I should include this anyway 2. It was premeditated, Hu is the culprit and Nico is being threatened/manipulated (for the whole of chapter 2??) and is helping her out. I **REALLY** doubt this, there's nothing to support this and it's VERY ooc for both Hu and Nico. It just doesn't work. Also, as I mentioned, Nico would not just kill somebody cause Hu told them too. Nico is NOT A PUSHOVER LISTEN TO ME- ahem. So no, I don't believe in this, but I suppose it's a possibility?? OR It was premeditated, they are both lying to cover each other, whether they are the culprit or not. Kind of OOC for them, but maybe??? I think I'm going to go with the first idea, along with Nico either not noticing Hu's lies or just going along with it to stay safe. It's just the most likely and most in-character for them. SUMMARY. Alright, here we go. PRE-MURDER: Nico steals (or simply just asks for, seeing as Hu would never suspect them) Hu's wire and uses it to cut Ace's neck open. Hu in uninvolved in Ace's murder any further than that. 1. Hu sees an opportunity to come up with an alibi for her and Nico. She doesn't want people to suspect them, so she lies in order to keep them safe and out of suspicion. She needs to keep everyone safe, as she sees herself as useless if she can't help people (episode 11 dialogue yall!!!) especially Nico, so she lies to keep them away from suspicion. 2. a) Nico notices Hu's lies. They hesitate, before realising the opportunity. They won't have to fight the others and be under suspicion if they have an "alibi". Hu will continue to defend them. They decide to divert the attention to them being interrupted again and don't say anything about Hu lying. 2. b) Nico fails to notice Hu's lies, more focused on being interrupted again. Their frustration leads them to completely miss Hu's comment, and the topic moves on. OR Im reaching per usual and nobody was lying about anybody's alibies. wooah. this was fun to make, although it kinda sucks.... ANYWAY, let me know what you think!!

[takaraphoenix]

Small But Good (Sneak Peek)

I am once again displaying the inability to keep things short! This, too (like the Steter fic that turned into a multiple chapter fic, or the 1.5k Sterek fic that grew into 18k) was supposed to be short but as I am currently clocking in at 6k and they BARELY got from the warehouse to Peter's penthouse, I have decided to, once again, make my inability everybody else's problem by posting a sneak peek!

Small But Good takes place directly after the s2 finale, where Peter takes Stiles home with him to take care of his injuries and they have to confront the fact that they're mates, something Stiles only realized after he had helped kill Peter. The full fic will be posted on August 2nd, as part of my personal little Stiles Summer 2024 event.

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“Take off your clothes,” Peter prompted, giving Stiles an expectant look.

“Yeah, no,” Stiles huffed out a laugh. “I am not getting naked in front of you.”

“Fair enough,” though as Peter said it, he sounded defeated and a bit… pouty. “I do need you to take off your shirt and pants though. I need to check your injuries, darling.”

“Ri—ight. Check my ‘injuries’, creeperwolf,” Stiles muttered teasingly.

He did comply though. He’d done his best to take care of them earlier himself but that only went so far. With a wince did he peel his shirt off over his head, stretching up pulled painfully on his ribs. A hand grabbed his shoulder and the pain was once again replaced by a warm, comfortable feeling. A pleased sigh escaped Stiles as he relaxed in Peter’s grasp.

“Thank you,” Stiles whispered while unbuttoning his pants.

He kicked them off and found himself down to his boxers and oddly self-conscious. His breath hitched at the sound of a growl. It was filled with rage, the kind that should tell Stiles not to move because there was an angry werewolf in the room. When he looked at Peter, he could see the Alpha all wolved out, snarl on his face, all fangs and glowing red eyes. His hands were balled to fists, blood dripping from them where his claws were digging into his palms. Without even thinking about it, Stiles stepped up and took Peter’s hands, startling the wolf into relaxing his grip enough so Stiles could ease his fists open. Stiles frowned down at the claw-marks that were already healing.

“I’m sorry,” Peter sighed. “I didn’t mean to scare you…”

“You didn’t scare me. Come on. Give me a little more credit. I know that little display wasn’t aimed at me, it was aimed at Gerard. Yeah, I know it looks… bad, worse than the bit of bruising on my face,” Stiles heaved a sigh. “I don’t think anything is broken though. Broken ribs feel different. But I do think they’re bruised. But I’m okay.”

“You are not okay, you are hurt,” Peter growled again.

“Yup, uhu, fully aware of that,” Stiles looked up at Peter with one raised eyebrow. “But nothing’s broken, or torn. I can walk all on my own. I’m okay. Besides, you already killed him, so there’s nothing you can do about this with violence and wolfiness right now anyway.”

Stiles’ heart jumped at the admission that Peter had killed Gerard Argent. Peter had killed Gerard Argent for hurting Stiles. Impulsively, Stiles leaned up and brushed his cheek against Peter’s. The wolf went impossibly still at the action, his breath catching in his throat.

“Stiles-” Peter growled, a soft, low warning. “Don’t do things you don’t understand.”

“Don’t,” Stiles growled back, annoyed. “Don’t start underestimating me now, Peter, not after you’ve been pretty much the only person in this damn town who acknowledges I got a brain.”

A flash of surprise and confusion went over Peter’s face. Like the wolf had really thought Stiles would do something as weird as rub his cheek against someone else’s just for fun. Of course did he know about scent-marking, he’d been reading up on werewolf behavior for long enough at this point and he knew that scenting was important among a pack, among mates even more so.

“You killed him,” Stiles said in explanation, offering a half-shrug. “You killed him for me.”

Peter huffed out a surprised laugh. “Sweetheart, aren’t you perfect for me.”

A blush lit Stiles’ face up at the compliment. “C’mon, you wanted to inspect my injuries. Because I would actually love to get into that bathtub and soak in it for like an hour.”

“That can be arranged,” Peter’s voice was a purr.

“Alone,” Stiles clarified with a sharp glare. “I will be going into that tub alone.”

Again with the pouting! A grown-ass man had no right to look that cute while pouting!

“Another time then, darling,” Peter winked playfully at him, before turning more serious. “I am going to touch you now though, to check your injuries. Is that okay?”

And oh. Oh, Peter and consent were really fucking hot. A thought that had crossed Stiles’ mind already when Peter had toyed with his wrist, offered the bite – and let go as soon as Stiles had declined. So much has been happening to him with no say so on his part that it was just incredibly good to be asked, and for his boundaries and wishes to be respected.

“Yes,” Stiles whispered, his voice soft. “That’s okay.”