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moonselune · 4 months ago

Note

You're like one of my FWVEEEE authors!! And I'm so excited to see ur RQ's are open, because I've wanted to rq this for a bit.

Maybe surprising the boys, after you've given birth, with the babies name being something meaningful to them? Or something they wanted but didn't say anything bc they would assume you didn't like it. My sister recently did that with her husband, and I just am obsessed w the idea. Like, maybe with Wyll naming your daughter Francesca, after his mother? And Ulder hearing that? UGH I'm very sentimental lately.

ahhhh thank you so much !!!!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The quiet of the early morning hours in the tower felt almost sacred as you cradled your newborn in your arms. You had just returned to the tower after a long and exhausting labor, and Gale had been nothing short of a perfect partner, by your side for every moment, but you had made sure to keep one small, precious detail to yourself until now.

Your eyes drifted to where Gale sat near the hearth, engrossed in the flames that flickered softly in the fireplace. His expression was contemplative, lost in thoughts that you couldn’t quite read. He had been gentle and supportive throughout the entire pregnancy, but there was something he had held back—a hesitation you had sensed but never pushed him to express. You knew it had something to do with the baby's name. You suspected that he had a name in mind but hadn’t spoken it, perhaps because he thought you wouldn’t share the sentiment.

As you rocked your baby gently, you decided it was time to reveal the surprise you'd been holding onto for these precious first few hours. With a quiet sigh, you stood, cradling your newborn in your arms as you approached Gale. The soft glow of the fire illuminated his face, and he looked up as you neared, his expression instantly softening at the sight of you and the baby.

“She’s finally asleep?” Gale asked softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper, as though he didn’t want to break the serene quiet that enveloped the room.

You nodded, sitting down beside him, the weight of the baby still comfortably nestled in your arms. Gale leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss on your temple before glancing down at the tiny bundle. His eyes shimmered with pride and awe, as they always did whenever he looked at your child.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” you murmured, your voice tender as you watched Gale’s expression shift to one of mild curiosity.

“What is it, my love?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly, concern flashing briefly across his face. “Is everything alright?”

You smiled at the worry in his voice and reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Everything is perfect. I just wanted to tell you her name."

Gale blinked, his eyes widening slightly as he realized you hadn’t yet shared the baby’s name. He had been patient, never once pressing you on the subject, but you had seen the way his gaze had lingered on your daughter with a quiet longing.

“I know we talked about a few names,” you continued, your voice soft as you leaned in closer. "But there's one name I think is perfect. And I know it’s a name that means a lot to you."

Gale's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable, as though he was afraid to hope for what he thought you might say.

His eyes searched yours, filled with unspoken emotion. "What… what name?"

You smiled gently, your heart swelling with love for both Gale and the tiny life you had created together.

"Her name is Morena," you whispered, the name falling from your lips like a promise. "Mora, for short."

For a brief moment, Gale just stared at you, his expression frozen in shock. The name—his mother’s name—hung in the air between you, filling the room with its quiet significance. You could see the emotions flickering in his eyes: disbelief, joy, and a deep, aching sense of gratitude.

"Morena," he repeated softly, almost as if testing the sound of it on his tongue. His voice cracked ever so slightly, and you saw the shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. "You… you named her after my mother?"

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently. "I know you never asked. I could feel how much you wanted it, but you never said anything because you didn’t want to push me. But Gale… the name is beautiful. And I want our daughter to have something meaningful to you. Something that connects her to the part of you that’s shaped who you are."

Gale let out a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling as the weight of your words sank in. His free hand reached up to wipe at his eyes, and when he looked back at you, there was such overwhelming love and appreciation in his gaze that it nearly took your breath away.

“You…” Gale began, but his voice faltered. He swallowed hard and tried again. “You don’t know what this means to me. I… I never thought you’d want that. But… Morena, Mora.” His voice broke again, but this time with joy. “It’s perfect. She’s perfect.”

He reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing the soft blanket that swaddled the baby. Mora stirred slightly, her tiny face scrunching for a moment before relaxing again. Gale’s breath hitched as he looked down at her, his daughter, named after the woman who had given him life and shaped so much of the man he had become.

"I hope she’s as strong and as kind as your mother is," you said softly, watching as Gale gently stroked Mora's cheek with the back of his hand. "And I know that she’ll be loved just as fiercely."

Gale exhaled shakily, his eyes never leaving your daughter as he spoke.

"She will be," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll make sure of it. And you… you’ve given me more than I ever thought I deserved."

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, his touch full of reverence and gratitude. When he pulled away, his eyes were shining with unshed tears, but his smile was full of warmth and love.

"Thank you," Gale whispered, his voice barely audible as he looked at you, his heart clearly overwhelmed. "Thank you for giving her this name. For giving me this family."

You rested your head on his shoulder, watching as Gale’s gaze returned to your daughter, his fingers gently tracing her tiny hand as she slept soundly in your arms.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the stone walls of your shared room, casting long shadows as you sat by the fire, cradling your newborn in your arms. The long and arduous process of giving birth had taken its toll on you, but the sight of your baby’s peaceful face nestled against your chest filled you with a joy so deep that the exhaustion seemed to melt away.

Astarion had been supportive throughout the pregnancy, doting on you in ways you never imagined he would, but ever since the birth, he had become quieter, more reserved, as if he wasn’t sure how to step into this new role. He had gone out earlier that evening, likely to clear his head, as he often did when faced with unfamiliar emotions. You hadn’t pressed him, understanding that this was a profound change for him, one he likely never expected to experience.

Now, with your baby in your arms, a surprise lay in wait for him. You had chosen a name—a name that held deep meaning, not just for you, but for him. A name that would connect him to this new life in a way you hoped would touch the very core of who he was.

The sound of the door creaking open pulled you from your thoughts. Astarion stepped into the room, his pale skin catching the firelight, making him look even more ethereal. His red eyes found you immediately, softening as he approached, though there was still that cautious distance he had kept since the baby’s arrival.

He was hesitant, not out of disinterest, but out of fear—fear of this new chapter, of his own ability to be what you and the baby needed him to be. You smiled warmly at him, your heart swelling with love.

“Astarion,” you called softly, beckoning him closer.

He approached cautiously, his eyes drifting to the small bundle in your arms, and you saw the flicker of something vulnerable cross his face. His hand twitched as though he wanted to reach out, but he held back, unsure of how to move forward.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Astarion said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “I… I’m not quite sure what to do in all of this.”

You shifted slightly, making room for him beside you. “You’re not intruding. You’re her father. Come sit with us.”

His eyes widened ever so slightly at the word father, but after a brief hesitation, he sat beside you, careful and measured in his movements. His gaze flickered from you to the baby, then back again, his usual confidence overshadowed by a nervous vulnerability that you had rarely seen in him.

"She’s so tiny," he whispered, almost in awe. "So… fragile."

You nodded, adjusting the baby gently so Astarion could get a better look at her. “She’s strong, though. Like her father.”

Astarion gave a soft, breathless chuckle, though it was clear he was still overwhelmed by the reality before him. "I’m not sure I deserve that comparison."

You reached out, gently taking his hand and placing it on the baby’s back, encouraging him to feel the steady warmth of her little body. He flinched slightly at the contact but quickly relaxed, his expression softening as he felt the tiny life beneath his palm. The look of wonder in his eyes made your heart swell.

“I named her,” you whispered, watching his reaction carefully.

His gaze snapped to yours, a flicker of curiosity and trepidation in his eyes. “Oh? What name did you choose?”

You took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness at the surprise you were about to reveal. “Her name is Astra.”

Astarion blinked, his face momentarily blank as he processed the name. Then, slowly, realization dawned on him, and his red eyes widened in disbelief. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, his breath catching in his throat as the meaning behind the name sank in.

“Astra?” he finally whispered, his voice barely audible. “You… named her Astra?”

You nodded, smiling at him with all the love you felt. “Yes. Astra, the female version of your name. I wanted her to carry a part of you with her, always. I know how much your name means to you—how it’s the one thing that’s truly yours after everything you’ve been through. I wanted to give you something else, something between just you and her.”

Astarion’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and for a moment, he seemed utterly speechless. His gaze dropped to the tiny baby in your arms—his daughter—and the depth of emotion in his expression took your breath away. His hand, which had been resting so gently on her back, now trembled slightly, as though the weight of what you had done was almost too much for him to bear.

“You named her after me,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I never… I never imagined…”

He trailed off, his usual eloquence failing him as he struggled to find the right words. His eyes shimmered with a vulnerability that was rare for him to show, and you could see the mix of awe, disbelief, and gratitude that swirled within him.

“Astarion,” you said softly, leaning in closer. “I wanted her to know where she came from. Who her father is. And I wanted you to know how much you mean to both of us.”

A single tear escaped the corner of his eye, and Astarion quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand, as though embarrassed by the show of emotion. But when he looked back at you, his face was alight with something that could only be described as love—a deep, profound love that he rarely allowed himself to express so openly. He leaned in, pressing a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead.

"You never cease to amaze me, you know that?" he whispered, his voice still thick with emotion.

When he pulled back, he looked down at Astra again, and a soft smile spread across his face—a smile that was filled with a mixture of pride and wonder. He gently traced a finger along the baby's tiny hand, and when her fingers instinctively curled around his, he let out a soft, breathless laugh.

"She’s perfect," Astarion said, his voice filled with awe. "Absolutely perfect."

You leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body beside yours, and together, the two of you watched over your daughter, named in honor of a man who had been through so much yet had found love and light in the most unexpected of places.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The sun was just beginning to set over the horizon, casting a warm amber glow through the windows of your shared room. You sat by the window, gently rocking the newborn in your arms, her small body bundled up in soft blankets as she slept peacefully. The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotion and exhaustion, but every time you looked down at your daughter, you were filled with a deep sense of love and pride.

Wyll had been nothing short of incredible during the birth—strong, reassuring, and steadfast, even when it seemed the weight of his emotions might overwhelm him. But despite his joy, you had sensed a subtle hesitation in him when it came to naming your child. He’d mentioned nothing specific, always deferring to your wishes, but you knew there was a name that held deep meaning for him, a name he hadn’t suggested because he didn’t want to push his own desires onto you.

You had been planning this surprise ever since you realized what name would mean the most to him. And tonight, after all the love and sacrifice he had shown, you were finally going to give him that gift.

The door creaked open, and Wyll stepped inside, his posture weary but his face lighting up when he saw you with the baby. His dark eyes sparkled with a mixture of relief and adoration. He had spent the day attending to his responsibilities, making sure the city was safe and handling the myriad of duties that came with being the Blade of Frontiers. But now, here in the quiet of your home, he was just Wyll, your Wyll.

“Hey, love,” he said softly, approaching you with a tender smile. “How are my two favorite ladies doing?”

“We’re doing well,” you replied with a soft chuckle. “She’s been sleeping soundly.”

Wyll knelt beside you, his eyes fixed on your daughter. His expression was filled with awe every time he looked at her, as if he still couldn’t quite believe she was real, that she was his. Gently, he reached out, brushing a thumb along the baby’s tiny cheek.

“She’s beautiful,” Wyll whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “Just like her mother.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for him. He had been so patient, so selfless, never once pressing his own hopes or desires. And now, you were ready to surprise him with something you knew would touch his heart in a way that nothing else could.

“I’ve been thinking about her name,” you said softly, watching as Wyll’s eyes flickered with curiosity. “And I’ve decided.”

Wyll’s eyebrows raised slightly, his face a picture of attentive concern, but also restraint. “Oh? Have you? I know it’s been a difficult decision, and I didn’t want to rush you.”

You held his gaze, feeling the love you had for him radiating in every word you were about to speak. “I’ve named her Francesca.”

For a moment, Wyll didn’t react. It was as if the name hung in the air, sinking into him slowly, its meaning unravelling. His eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat. He stared at you, his expression a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

“Francesca…” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “After my mother?”

You nodded, your smile soft and loving. “Yes. I know you never mentioned it because you didn’t want to sway me, but I’ve seen the way you talk about her. I’ve heard the love in your voice every time you’ve told me stories about her, that your father passed down to you. I wanted to honor that, and I wanted our daughter to carry that legacy with her.”

Wyll blinked rapidly, as though trying to hold back the sudden rush of tears. He stood up slowly, his hand coming to rest over his mouth as he turned away for a moment, struggling to compose himself. When he finally turned back to you, his eyes were filled with tears, but there was a smile on his face—a smile so full of love and gratitude that it made your heart ache.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Wyll whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “I never expected… I never thought…”

He knelt beside you again, this time more tenderly, as if the weight of your gift had overwhelmed him. Gently, he reached out and touched his daughter’s tiny hand, watching as her fingers instinctively curled around his. His tears finally spilled over, but he didn’t bother wiping them away. Instead, he looked at you, his eyes shining with gratitude.

“I promise you,” he said, his voice low and filled with emotion, “I will be the best father to Francesca. I will make sure she knows who her grandmother was, and I will teach her everything my mother taught me. I will protect her, love her, and cherish her, just like you’ve done for me.”

You smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I know you will, Wyll. I never had any doubt.”

For a long moment, the two of you sat there, watching your daughter sleep, the room filled with the quiet warmth of your love and the promise of the future you would build together. Wyll wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he whispered into your ear.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “Thank you for giving me this gift. You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”

The next morning, a warm breeze filled the air as you and Wyll prepared to visit Ulder Ravengard, Wyll’s father, with your newborn daughter. The weight of the decision you had made—the name that carried such profound significance—still lingered between you both like a quiet, shared secret. Wyll had held you close the night before, murmuring his love and endless gratitude. Now, it was time to share that gift with his father, a man whose stoic exterior hid the deep love and pain of having lost his wife, Francesca, so many years ago.

As you dressed your daughter in a soft blanket, Wyll stood by, watching with tender pride. His hands trembled slightly as he straightened the collar of his tunic, clearly nervous about the conversation ahead. He hadn't told his father yet. No one knew of the decision except the two of you.

"You look beautiful," he said softly, his voice filled with love as he gazed down at you and your daughter. "Both of you."

You smiled up at him, sensing his anxiety. "She’s going to love hearing her grandfather’s voice. And she’s already wrapped around her father's little finger."

Wyll let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "If she’s anything like her mother, she’ll have me wrapped around hers in no time."

With your daughter safely bundled in your arms, the three of you made your way through Baldur's Gate. The city was bustling with activity, the markets alive with voices and the scent of fresh bread filling the air. Wyll walked close beside you, his hand occasionally brushing your back in a quiet gesture of reassurance. You could feel the weight of the moment in his silence.

When you finally arrived at Ulder Ravengard's estate, the sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows over the grand stone steps. A guard greeted you and led you inside, where Ulder sat at a large, intricately carved table, maps and documents spread out before him. He looked up when you entered, his stern face softening slightly at the sight of Wyll and the baby in your arms.

"Father," Wyll greeted him, his voice steady but filled with something deeper—something reverent. He reached out, shaking his father’s hand before glancing nervously at you and the baby. "We wanted to come by and… introduce you to your granddaughter."

Ulder’s gaze shifted to you, and then down to the small bundle in your arms. His brow furrowed slightly, his usual unreadable expression slipping into something more curious. He rose from his chair, approaching slowly, almost cautiously.

"She’s beautiful," Ulder said quietly, his deep voice rough around the edges. "You must be proud."

"We are," Wyll replied, his voice tight with emotion. He cleared his throat, glancing at you before continuing. "There’s… something important we wanted to tell you."

You stepped forward, offering your daughter to Ulder. He hesitated for a brief moment before gently taking her into his arms, his hands surprisingly tender for someone so often defined by duty and discipline. He looked down at her, a soft light filling his eyes that you hadn’t expected to see in a man as hardened by war and loss as Ulder Ravengard.

"Father," Wyll began, his voice steady but thick with meaning, "we’ve named her Francesca."

The name hung in the air for a long moment, sinking into the room like a warm, bittersweet weight. Ulder’s hands froze as he held his granddaughter, his gaze locked on her small, sleeping face. His expression was one of shock, disbelief, and something much deeper—a pain that had never quite healed, a loss that had never truly faded.

"Francesca…" he whispered, his voice so low you could barely hear it.

Wyll stepped closer to his father, his hand resting gently on the older man’s shoulder. "We named her after Mother. We wanted to honor her memory, and… we thought it was the right way to keep her close to us, through our daughter."

Ulder’s eyes grew wet with unshed tears, his grip tightening slightly around the baby as though she were the most fragile thing in the world. He looked up at you, his gaze soft but filled with unspoken emotion, before turning his attention back to Wyll.

"I… I don’t know what to say," Ulder admitted, his voice thick with emotion. His usual stoic demeanor had cracked, revealing a depth of feeling that rarely surfaced. "It’s been so many years since…"

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. You could see the memories swirling in his mind, the image of his beloved wife, Francesca, whom he had lost far too soon, a loss that had left a permanent scar on both father and son. But now, here she was again, in a way—in the form of this tiny life, this new beginning.

Ulder blinked rapidly, as if trying to force back the tears that threatened to spill over. He looked down at his granddaughter again, his large hands cradling her gently as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you both."

For a long moment, Ulder simply stood there, holding his granddaughter with a tenderness you hadn’t expected to see in him. He was a man of war, a leader, but in this moment, he was just a father and a grandfather—grateful for the chance to remember and honor the woman he had lost so many years ago.

Finally, Ulder handed the baby back to you, his eyes filled with something deeper than gratitude.

"Francesca," he repeated, his voice stronger now. "She will grow up knowing who her grandmother was. I will make sure of it."

Wyll nodded, his eyes shining with emotion as he looked at his father. "Thank you, Father."

As you held your daughter close, you couldn’t help but feel the depth of what you had given Wyll, and by extension, his father—a piece of Francesca’s memory that would live on, carried forward into the future. Wyll wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you both watched Ulder wipe away the last traces of his tears.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The soft murmur of the forest outside your home was a constant, soothing presence as you gently rocked your newborn in your arms. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a warm golden glow over the room. You sat by the open window, the scent of pine and fresh earth drifting in, mingling with the soft coos of your daughter. The world felt at peace in this moment, and your heart swelled with love for the tiny life you now held in your arms.

Halsin had been an incredible partner throughout your pregnancy. His calm, reassuring presence had been your anchor, his strength your shelter, but also his tenderness, that unshakable connection to nature, was ever-present. Now that your daughter was here, he had been even more attentive—both in caring for you and in gently bonding with your newborn. His large hands, capable of such strength, were so gentle with her, cradling her as if she were the most delicate thing in the world.

But even with all his devotion, you had noticed something in him over the past few days. A slight hesitation, as though something was on his mind that he didn’t want to burden you with. It was subtle—Halsin was never one to impose his feelings on you—but you could see it in the way his eyes softened when he looked at your daughter, a fleeting glance of something unsaid. You had a suspicion about what it was, but you had waited for the perfect moment to surprise him.

That moment had come.

The door creaked softly, and you looked up to see Halsin entering the room, his presence filling the space as always. His expression immediately softened when he saw you holding your daughter, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He approached quietly, as though not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere you had created.

"How are my two loves?" he asked, his deep voice as warm as the sunlight streaming in through the window.

"We're perfect," you replied, smiling up at him. "Just enjoying the quiet and some time together."

Halsin knelt down beside you, his large hand resting on the arm of your chair as he gazed down at your daughter with an expression so full of love it made your heart ache. He gently reached out to stroke her tiny head, his fingers brushing through the soft tufts of hair.

"She is perfect," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "Every time I see her, I am reminded of how precious life is… and how much I have to be thankful for."

You watched him closely, seeing that flicker of something unsaid in his eyes again. It was time to give him the surprise you had been waiting to share.

"I've been thinking about her name," you said softly, catching his attention. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, his expression attentive but patient.

"Of course," Halsin replied, a gentle curiosity in his tone. "It is important to choose a name that carries meaning, one that honors the spirit of life she represents."

You smiled, your heart racing a little in anticipation. "I’ve already chosen it. I’ve named her Thania."

For a brief moment, Halsin froze, his expression one of pure shock. His lips parted slightly, and his golden eyes widened as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had heard. He stared at you in stunned silence, as though trying to process the weight of the name you had just spoken.

"Thania?" he finally whispered, his voice so soft it was almost a breath. His hand stilled over your daughter’s head, trembling ever so slightly. "After Thaniel?"

You nodded, your smile tender and full of love. "Yes. I know how much he means to you. Thaniel was a part of your life in such a profound way, and I wanted to honor that. So, I thought… what better way to honor the bond you had with him than to give our daughter a name that reflects that connection to nature and life?"

Halsin stared at you, his chest rising and falling as emotion swirled within him. You could see the conflict in his eyes—the joy, the disbelief, the overwhelming gratitude that he struggled to put into words. His hand moved to cover yours, his grip firm but tender as if grounding himself in the moment.

"I…" His voice caught in his throat, and he paused, taking a breath to steady himself. "You’ve given her a name that is sacred to me. Thaniel was not just a spirit of the land… he was a part of my soul, a symbol of everything I fought for, everything I believe in. To name her after him… it is more than I ever could have asked for."

Tears welled in his eyes, though he did nothing to hide them. His usual composure was shattered by the depth of his gratitude and love. He leaned in closer, pressing his forehead gently against yours, his breath warm and shaky.

"Thank you," Halsin whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for this gift. You have honored not just me, but the land itself, the spirit of life. She will grow up knowing the importance of that connection."

You felt your own tears sting at the corners of your eyes as you leaned into his touch. "She’ll know, Halsin. We’ll teach her together."

Halsin pulled back slightly, his eyes shining with unshed tears, but his smile was radiant. He turned his attention to your daughter once more, gently taking her tiny hand in his and brushing it with his thumb.

"Thania," he whispered, testing the name on his lips as if savoring it. "You are a child of the earth, of the wilds. You carry a name that is tied to life itself, and you will always know the beauty and strength of the world around you. I will make sure of it."

He gently kissed the top of her head, his touch reverent, before turning back to you. Without a word, he cupped your face in his large hands and kissed you deeply, a kiss full of love, gratitude, and promise. When he pulled back, his eyes were full of nothing but adoration.

"I love you," he whispered. "More than words could ever express. You’ve given me more than I ever thought possible."

You smiled, your heart overflowing with happiness. "I love you too, Halsin. "

For a moment, the three of you sat there in the warmth of the fading sunlight, surrounded by the quiet serenity of the forest. Your daughter, Thania, was nestled between you and Halsin.

Halsin gently cradled his daughter in his arms, looking down at her with a sense of wonder and awe. His voice, soft and full of promise, carried through the room as he whispered to her, "You will grow strong, little one. As strong as the land itself. And I will be by your side, every step of the way."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

SO WHOLESOME OMFG; my heart died numerous times whilst writing this. Hope you guys enjoyed this ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

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leorosenberg · 6 months ago

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Lonely heart. Nightmares (pt1) Tybalt was looking at candle’s flame, which was casting reddish reflex on the walls. He had a bad feeling, but he didn’t understand why - Julia was staying in her room all day, and there was nothing to worry about… But Tybalt had a heavy heart. Tybalt sighed and pushed back a strand of hair from the forehead. He decided to check on Julia and got up from the armchair. After thinking about it, Tybalt didn’t put out the candle and left his room, trying not to make any noise - he didn’t want to wake somebody up in the middle of the night. He carefully closed the door and went to Julia’s room, trying to keep quiet.

In the night Capulet’s house was a dark and ominous place, full of shadows, where Tybalt felt especially lonely. Sunlight saved him during the day, but at night he was alone with himself and his thoughts, which ate him alive. Every night he was trying any ways to escape from obsessions, arising in his mind. It was exhausting training, reading, long walks… He even tried to write - poems full of pain and hopeless love, that he never showed to anyone. He was ashamed of them… Tybalt, proud heir of the Capulet, who writes tearful nonsense… Ridiculous! He couldn’t let himself be sentimental.

Every night became a nightmare for Tybalt. It was easier for him during the day, but at night it just became unbearable. He could only look for any way to distract… Or just crying all night. Nobody knows who is Tybalt Capulet in fact. Maybe even he himself doesn’t know. Orphan, duelist, son of a noble family… It was the image which saw people. The image which Tybalt made them see. Vulnerable boy, a stranger in his own house, sad ghost of Capulets who never showed his feelings for anyone. For anyone except Julia… Julia, who fell in love with this Montageu’s scoundrel. Tybalt almost coped with it. He knows that Julia would never be his… But it hurt him anyway. Even knowing that she will be Paris’ wife, Tybalt was jealous.

Julia loves Romeo, but Tybalt will not allow him to appear here. Tybalt will never let any Montague to be here.

Tybalt sighed again. Well, here he is tormenting himself again. He pursed his lips. No more thoughts. Tybalt went up to the second floor and headed for Julia's room - oh, he knows this way very well. How many times did he come here for these useless talks… She was never serious about his feelings. She only saw Tybalt as a cousin… Brother. Relative. And now, when this bastard appeared, Tybalt had no chance. He had no chance without Romeo also… But he didn't think about that.

Why does Julia, his little Julia, love Romeo? What did she find in him? Why even Julia is in love and only Tybalt is miserable?

-You will break a lot of girls' hearts… - saying Lady Capulet stroking her nephew's hair. - My handsome boy…

Tybalt didn't believe her. She always told him encouraging things. Tybalt thought that she was saying it just because they are relatives and he is an orphan who needs support. He didn't consider himself handsome… Mostly because nobody except Lady Capulet called him handsome. Tybalt didn't see “handsome boy” in the mirror. He saw only a ridiculous kid loved by no one except relatives… And even in their love he couldn't believe.

Tybalt frowned, approaching Julia's room - he saw the light under the door. Why doesn’t Julia sleep at such a late hour? Tybalt came closer and frozen in place - he heard voices from the room… And one of them was not Julia's. It also was not Romeo’s voice…

Mercutio.

Tybalt was shocked. He wanted to break into the room and start a scandal but tried to restrain himself. He didn't want to wake up the whole house. What does Mercutio need here? Tybalt decided to listen to their talk.

-He is so gloomy… - Mercutio

-It's just an image. - Julia

Who are they discussing?

-You are so different. Cousins, but looking like strangers. - Mercutio

What does he mean?

-I told it to you as a friend to friend. I hope… I hope you won't tell him. I'd like to deal with it myself. - Mercutio

-Ah… Sure. As you want. - Julia

-Montagues and Capulets… I never thought that I might like him. - Mercutio

Tybalt, barely standing on his feet, decided to show himself:

-Julia, why don't you sleep? It's too late for young girls.

He heard rustle when Julia answered.

-Ah… I just had been reading… - she said.

-You should have slept for hours. - Tybalt’s voice became serious.

Someone jumped into the bushes under Julia's balcony. Tybalt pretended not to notice it.

-I'm already going to bed! - Julia said. She extinguished the candle.

Tybalt sank to the floor and gasped nervously.

Mercutio likes him.

And he should do something with it.

The premonition didn't deceive him.

It is real trouble.

Tybalt ruffled his hair. Yes, mistress, girl's hearts. He thought. Tybalt couldn't say that he's happy about this news, but he was flattered… Someone (even if Mercutio) finds him handsome. Attractive. Someone saw the real Tybalt behind this image that he made.

“Cousins, but looking like strangers”

Mercutio was right. If you do not know that they are relatives, you will not guess about it. And they were different not only outwardly. Julia is the sun, Tybalt is the moon. Even Lady Capulet thinks so.

Tybalt got up from the floor and went to his room.

-I deserve to be loved. - he whispered into the void. Even be loved by Mercutio… Maybe he is not that bad. Could he be a good person? Tybalt didn't know. He will think about it tomorrow. Now he just wants to sleep. At last he wants to sleep.

#fanfic #tycutio #romeo es julia #romeo et juliette #romeo and juliet #fic writing #writers on tumblr #mercutio #magyar #fanfiction

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kaizoku-musume · 1 year ago

Text

Property Of

Entry #2 in @xxsycamore's Visions of Temptation kinktober event. I have a brief summary of my OC here for anyone interested.

Fandom: Ikepri

Pairing: Clavis x OC

Word count: 4k

Prompts: Biting/Marking | Dacryphilia

Walking down the corridor to their room, Lisette’s mind spun with possibilities. Clavis had told her he had a surprise for her, give me about twenty minutes and then head up to our room, you’ll love it and Lisette was torn between anticipatory and apprehensive. With Clavis, it was just as likely to be a sex thing as it was literally anything else. And it was just as likely to be something fun and relatively innocent (for her to enjoy, not always so much for everyone else) as it was something she had to talk him out of so he didn’t get hurt via Chevalier seeking revenge. It was unlikely to be the latter, thankfully, due to the location-Clavis-territory-and the time of night.

So, sex thing, probably. Which barely narrowed down the options. Clavis had millions of ideas he was open to trying: bondage (a favourite of theirs), temperature play (very fun-Lisette preferred cold and Clavis preferred hot), choking (which was a hard no-Clavis had been surprised about that one, given her obsession with his neck rivaled his for her legs, but Lisette was all too familiar with how easy it was to force someone unconscious by applying the right pressure for mere seconds, and how quickly death came after that. She probably had the knowledge to do it relatively safely, but the risk was too high for her).

The point is, by the time Lisette reached the door, she was no closer to figuring out what the surprise was than she had been when Clais first told her. All she could do was steady herself, hope it was nothing too outrageous, and open the door. She didn’t knock or announce herself because she knew Clavis would be all too eager to call out “come in” in the sultriest way imaginable just for laughs, exactly like last time, and she wasn’t sure she should make it too regular of a habit.

When the door swung open, her eyes immediately went toward the bed, where Clavis was splayed out on his side. He was an absolute vision in lace and frills: cotton thigh highs with ribboned garters, a skimpy top with a lisianthus floral print and two thin straps running underneath the flat cups, and a lace choker with a cute ribbon right at the center. All of that alone was mouth-watering, but it was the dog tag attached to the choker that had Lisette frozen. She couldn’t read it from the doorway but she knew what was on it, could sense the letters engraved on it deep in her gut, igniting an inferno that blazed through her.

“What does it say?” she asked anyway, because she was a glutton for punishment. She didn’t know if she could handle it if Clavis confirmed her suspicions; she already felt terribly off-kilter, about to keel over from his flagrant display.

Clavis had the smuggest look on his face as he teased, “Why don’t you come over here and find out?” Like a moth to a flame, Lisette did just that, all but stumbling forward in her haste. Clavis flopped down to lay flat on the bed so Lisette could clamber on top of him, striking a coy pose that she barely took notice of in her single-minded focus. Lisette gripped the tag and there, staring up at her in bold, near-indecipherable script, was exactly what she knew she would see.

Lisette’s.

The flash of heat that struck her was overwhelming. Lisette felt drunk with lust, stuck staring at the-the collar, is what it really was, proclaiming Clavis as hers. And Clavis knew it, egging her on as he simpered, “Like it?”

Lisette’s eyes snapped up to meet his. The amused look in them didn’t infuriate her, but it triggered a reaction so similar that she had to take a deep breath to calm down. Who knew hunger like this ran through the body the same way anger did, so all-encompassing? Focusing very, very hard on not entirely losing it, Lisette leaned down and kissed clavis, all teeth and tongue, laying claim to his mouth. When she pulled back to allow Clavis to breath, she tugged on the tag, holding it tight in her fist, something in her viciously satisfied at how Clavis’ neck tipped up a bit to accommodate her grip. “I’m going to fuck you until you’re sobbing,” she promised.

Wordlessly, with a shit-eating grin, Clavis gestured to the side of the bed, where the lube and harness sat on top of the covers. Lisette hadn’t even noticed them, her attention having been fully caught by Clavis himself. “Such a strong reaction,” Clavis quipped as Lisette tore her clothes off in record speed, “What brought it on, I wonder?” When Lisette was naked, he helped her with the harness, hands skimming her thighs more than necessary, slipping underneath the leather briefly to test how wet she was.

“You think you’re so cute,” Lisette narrowed her eyes at him, wasting no time situating herself between his legs. She went to rub her cock along his entrance just to tease him, maybe make him feel a fraction of the franticness Lisette herself was dealing with, but she paused at the sight of his hole. It was already glistening with lube and slightly puffy from use. Twenty minutes, he’d said. Too much time to just put on the outfit, but enough to open himself up for her in preparation. Lisette had to take another deep breath; millions of fights against people with different kinds of skills and weapons since childhood and it was the actions of a man who was practically begging her to fuck him that was going to be the death of her.

“Sobbing, Clavis,” she repeated, sliding into him all the way to the hilt in one smooth thrust, punching a strained gasp out of Clavis. He recovered far too quickly for Lisette’s liking, opening his mouth to say something (probably to goad her even more, because her husband had no self-preservation instincts), so Lisette didn;t give him any time to adjust to the feeling of her inside him before starting up a fast, deep rhythm. Clavis made a sound halfway between a groan and a laugh, wrapping his legs around her waist.

“You are a menace, you know that?” Lisette snapped her hips forward. She wanted to get the first, easiest orgasm out of the way, because it wouldn’t be until later that she got what she wanted.

Clavis tipped his head back and laughed, the motion highlighting his neck, the choker (which meant he did it on purpose just to rile her up even more, fuck, Lisette was going to wreck this man), the tag bouncing with every thrust. “Turnabout is fair play, my dear,” he said, “You didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun, did you?”

“Oh, you asshole.” Lisette knew exactly what he was talking about: two weeks ago, she had shown up in his office in stockings and a plug and had tormented him with the knowledge until he finished work, not allowing him to touch her until he had done so. And now Clavis was retaliating by driving her insane in turn.

“There’s no call for that, is there?” Clavis cooed amidst sighs of pleasure, “Didn’t I fuck you exactly how you wanted me to?” Lisette bit her lip at the memory of being taken on his desk. This wouldn’t do at all: Clavis was still far too coherent, and she refused to let him have the upper hand. She shifted, angling her hips to strike against where she knew his prostate was. Clavis cursed and reached out to hold onto the straps of her harness as she struck with unerring accuracy. “Oh dear, am I-ah!-am I winding you up?” he choked out.

“Make your jokes now, because I doubt you’ll be able to when you’re crying your eyes out,” Lisette warned. She paid attention to the hitches in his breathing, the tensing in his thighs. He was getting close, but would need a push, and she didn’t intend to touch his cock yet; best to save that for later so he didn’t get too overstimulated. Luckily, Lisette knew the best way to make him come untouched.

She leaned down and licked a stripe up his neck, right across the choker. “Ah, wait-” Clavis twitched, knowing what was in store, but it was too late: Lisette latched onto his neck with a deep growl, teeth and mouth clamping down, biting imprints and sucking a mark onto his skin as she grinded against his prostate. With a sharp cry, Clavis came, tightening around her. Lisette fucked him through it before pulling out briefly to reapply lube to the strap, sliding back in right after, taking delight in the way he whimpered. “Fuck, I love that trick,” she said.

Before Clavis had fully recovered, she was moving inside him again. Clavis squirmed and moaned, caught between trying to push back onto her cock and pull away. “Well, babe?” Lisette goaded, “Am I fucking you exactly how you want?”

Clavis met her gaze evenly, patented smirk still displayed even as he panted for breath. “I’m not noticing any tears, oh wife of mine. I don;t think you’re fucking me hard enough,” he said with a haughty tilt to his head. Every movement kept drawing Lisette’s attention right back to that choker and tag.

“Oh, you think so?” Lisette played along, “Well, far be it from me to disappoint. Don’t worry, oh husband of mine, I’ll be sure to step it up from here.” Lisette finally gave attention to the rest of Clavis’ ensemble, leaning down to lick at Clavis’s nipple over the lingerie, rubbing the other one with the pad of her thumb. The lavender material darkened and became slightly see-through with her spit, a single patch right over his nipple, and something about the sight was so obscene she had to do it to the other one to make it even.

“Like it?” Clavis asked, “I knew the-ah!-the choker would be enough, but it-mmmmm-matched, so I couldn’t pass up the oppor-oh!-the opportunity.”

“It’s pretty,” Lisette said around his nipple, nipping at the nub. She slid her free hand along his thigh, feeling along the stockings and garter. She tugged once on the strap of the garter, snapping it against his skin. Clavis jolted with a yelp, raising himself up into her before lowering back to the bed like he didn’t know where to go. For his third orgasm, she’d have to put him in a position that gave her better access to his legs-they needed some marks of their own.

Speaking of, Lisette moved on from tormenting Clavis’ nipples to address the strips of skin peeking out between the thin straps of the top, right at the transition from his pecs to his ribs. She set about sucking hickeys there, mouth catching skin and fabric as she worked.

“I’m glad you appreciate it,” Clavis ran a hand through her hair-the downside to trying to build his second orgasm up slowly was giving him the ability to recover, Lisette was realizing. Maybe she should just pick up the pace soon. “I wanted you to realize what a sight you are when you wear outfits like this for me and I knew just telling you how beautiful you are wouldn’t make you fully understand. The only way was to show you that however you feel looking at me like this is the same way I feel.” And that was-well. Clavis was right that Lisette never really understood the appeal to things like lingerie even though she was more than willing to put it on to surprise him. And it was just like Clavis to want to show her how much her actions meant to him by flipping things around on her-that was part of how he showed his love, after all.

Lisette just had to kiss him for that, so she did, surging forward and cupping his cheeks in her palms as her tongue sought refuge in his mouth. She drank her fill of him, mapping out the cavern of his mouth, teeth occasionally nipping at his bottom lip. Clavis wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her back, faithfully opening up to let her in, sucking enthusiastically on her tongue.

Lisette hooked the back of Clavis’ knee under her elbow to spread him wide, maintaining an angle that avoided his prostate while fucking him. With her free hand, she took his cock in a sure grip and started stroking him, matching the quickening pace of her thrusts. Clavis whined and tightened his hold on her, hands clutching at her back, wrapping his other leg more firmly around her hip. Lisette sped up even more, fucking into him hard and fast, hips slapping together, her hand twisting around the head of his cock as she fisted him. She paid close attention to Clavis’ tells: when his legs and arms started to shake and his breath took a whiny, whistley pitch, Lisette bit into his bottom lip and tugged while she dug her thumb into his slit, sending him tumbling over the edge once more.

Lisette pulled away just a tad to get the lube again as she eased him through it before stopping for a moment, but instead of pulling out, she simply coated her index and middle fingers and slipped them in his ass alongside her cock, spreading the lube around as much as she could. Clavis made a sound like he was dying, head tossing and turning on the pillow. She soothed him through it, running her free hand along his side and pressing open-mouthed kisses along the patch of skin beneath his earlobe. Clavis greedily rasped in air as she removed her fingers, somehow managing to make it sound like he was laughing as he did.

She leaned back until she was sitting up straight on her knees and lifted Clavis’ legs, slinging them over her shoulders. Clavis watched her with glassy, half-focused eyes, and Lisette admired the sight of him, flushed all the way down to his chest, hear a sweaty, tangled mess on his forehead, stomach near painted white in streaks of his come, hickeys blooming to life on his skin. “Another, then?” Clavis sighed more than said. He glanced down at where her cock was still buried in him, licking his lips at the sight. Lisette wasn’t sure if that was intentional or just a subconscious reaction.

“I already told you, didn’t I?” Lisette rocked forward once, twice, testing. Clavis tipped his head back and moaned, half ecstasy, half agony. “I’m not stopping until you’re sobbing.” She kept a shallow, slow rhythm for now. Lisette wanted him crying from pleasure, not pain.

Clavis bit his lip, but desperate whines and whimpers spilled out anyway. He blindly reached out and grabbed the pillow for support, fingers digging in so tightly Lisette was convinced he would tear through it. This is what Lisette loved the most about sex: watching Clavis lose himself in pleasure.

Lisette turned her head and began laying kisses on Clavis’ knees, enjoying the feel of soft cotton on her lips. Her hands roamed his thighs, rubbing creases in the thin socks as she periodically squeezed hard enough that tomorrow, there would be purpling, finger-shaped bruises. She dipped underneath the hem to tease at the skin underneath, sliding along the straps of the garters, occasionally snapping them just to hear him cry out every time.

“No running commentary this time?” Lisette prodded. She waited until he opened his mouth to quip back to bite down on the meat of his thigh, using her grip on the garter straps to pull him onto her cock. Instead of a sly comment, a wail left Clavis’ throat. Lisette laughed against his thigh, laying biting kisses as far as she could reach.

“H-how cruel,” Clavis said, “My lovely love-hah!-er seems to have it oouuuut! for me.”

“You think that’s cruel?” Lisette pitched her voice low. The way his legs clenched down on her shoulders was a good indication that his ass was doing the same thing on her cock. “Lulu, you have no idea what I have in store for you.” She was going to break her husband.

Somehow, looking half delirious and gasping like he could barely catch his breath, Clavis was still able to speak mostly coherently enough to challenge, “So show me. Show me how much you love me.” The fucker even had the gall to flick the tag proclaiming him as hers.

Lisette grinned, feeling downright feral. In all her life, no one had ever made her feel as out of control as Clavis did. “You asked for it, babe,” she said. Lisette reached down and ran one finger along his gradually hardening cock. She was maybe giving herself too much credit, interpreting his expression as regret, but he definitely had no idea what he’d gotten himself into and now he knew it. She took him in a light, gentle grip, hand feathering up and down his oversensitive shaft. Clavis whined and tried to shift his hips away, but speared on her cock as he was with knees hooked over her shoulders and no strength to lift them off, he had nowhere to go.

Lisette kept an ear out for his safeword, should he choose to use it. This was more than she’d ever put him through before, and she certainly didn’t want to push him too far-just far enough. But all that left Clavis were encouraging, if overwhelmed, sounds. “Lisette!” he shrieked when she rubbed her thumb across the tip of his cock. She wondered how he’d react if she took him in her mouth. Too bad she wasn’t willing to pull out of him to find out; she’d have to save it for next time.

Clavis writhed as Lisette stroked her cock. She routinely sped up and slowed down just to torment him, dragging her thumb across the glans under the head every now and then. Her thrusts into him had picked up a bit of speed as well, and the combined sensations had Clavis shaking non-stop. She could tell she was just a few more sensations away from where she wanted him, and she was ready to get him there. “Hey, love,” she waited until he was looking at her before continuing, “you want more?”

Clavis grinned as soon as he met her gaze, loopy and happy and too, too sweet for all Lisette was putting him through. “Always,” he promised, a wet sheen to his eyes. Yep, now was definitely the time.

“Then I’ll give it to you. I hope you’ve been working on your flexibility,” Lisette leaned forward until her head was right above Clavis’, bending him nearly in half. Hands braced on the bed, she immediately went back to fucking Clavis, skimming over his prostate every few thrusts, his cock trapped between their bellies. Clavis whined at the change in angle and constant friction on his cock, his hands scrabbling against her biceps.

Lisette sucked hickeys onto Clavis’ neck, following the line of his choker, making her own collar for his neck. Clavis’ fingers dug into the sides of her shoulders as her thrusts punched wet, squeaky “ah, ah, ah!”s out of him. Lisette’s teeth worried at the thin skin beneath his jaw while her tongue soothed the latest mark she made and finally: Clavis broke.

His voice warbled on a moan and his next breath was a weak and shaky sob. Lisette spent a few moments licking and kissing the fresh bruises in something of an apology before leaning up to get a good look at his face. There they were, tears springing from Clavis’ eyes and slipping down the side of his face or getting caught in his fluttering eyelashes.

“There we go,” she brought one hand up to swipe at the tears trailing down, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Clavis opened and closed his mouth a couple of times like he was trying to say something, but all that came out were hitching sobs. Lisette nudged up against his prostate just to watch him struggle more. “Lis!” he shouted, nails scratching down her arms.

“Hmm? Something you want to say, babe?” she languidly rolled into him, delighted by how every movement brought a fresh wave of tears, a fresh round of sobs. He fought to keep his eyes open and focused on her even though tears obstructed his vision. “Is that a no?” She traced the lettering on the tag. Something terrible in her had the sudden urge to grab it and yank. She made a mental note to bring it up with Clavis later-lords knew he would love the idea.

“Lisette!” Clavis keened, arching his neck. Oh, well. Scratch that, then; he probably figured out exactly what she was thinking. Definitely something to try next time, then. “Lis, Lis, please,” Clavis begged, hands going reflexively to his face to either hide or wipe away his tears before he adjusted and held on to her wrists. The sight had Lisette take pity on him. This couldn’t be easy for Clavis, being seen crying so heavily like this, but he was willing to withstand it just for her because it was what she wanted.

“Okay, love, I gotcha,” Lisette rocked steadily into Clavis as she lay down almost flat on top of him, licking up his tears.

“Lis, fuck, fuck, oh god!” Clavis clutched at her back, well beyond the point of pretending to have some semblance of control. “Lis, love, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-” Clavis kept chanting as Lisette fucked him, stomach grinding against his cock. A few more moments and he was coming with a scream, head tossed back in rapture.

Lisette could tell when the first wave passed him and he had moved on to the aftershocks by how his quaking legs had settled to intermittent shivers, how his cock had stopped twitching and spurting against her stomach and began to soften, how his desperate gasping sobs had settled to shallow breaths. Eyes half-lidded, Clavis peered hazily up at Lisette, head tipped up almost shyly. Recognizing the request for what it was, Lisette kissed him. Clavis did what he could to kiss back, but he was clearly out of commission. “You good?” Lisette asked. He nodded, so slowly, gently, Lisette took his legs off her shoulders and lowered them to the bed. With the same level of care, she slipped out of him, smoothing his hair back when he inevitably flinched.

“I’ll be right back,” she kissed his forehead as she got off the bed and headed to the bathroom, taking off the harness on the way. A bath would be needed, but moving Clavis too soon didn’t sound like a good idea, so for now, Lisette just wet a washcloth and filled a cup of water and brought them back out to him, lightly sweeping the washcloth over the mess on his stomach as she dripped a few sips of water into Clavis’ mouth before setting the glass on the nightstand. Clavis groaned and threw his arm over his eyes. “You coming back to the land of the living?” Lisette teased.

“Unfortunately,” Clavis said, voice scratchy. Was that from the yelling or crying? Or both? He sighed, scrubbing at his eyes.

Lisette used the rag to clean her own stomach once she was done taking care of Clavis. She climbed into bed next to him, settling against his side. They curled against each other, legs tangled together, encouraging Clavis to rest his head on her shoulder. She toyed with the tag once more-the fire had banked for now, but the sight of something with her name right there on his neck was still overpowering in a way.

“How’d you know?” It was probably a pointless question; it didn’t take a genius to figure out her possessive streak. But to make the leap from hickeys and bite marks to what was essentially a collar? Clavis had come up with that idea somehow, and more than that, had a pretty spot on guess as to what her reaction would be.

“Oh, that was easy,” Clavis explained, “I knew how you’d feel about it because it was exactly how I felt about it.” That made a lot of sense, actually. If Lisette was possessive, Clavis was someone who enjoyed the thought of being possessed. “I was thinking of wearing it to the next meeting, maybe, or using it as an accessory for the next royal event we’re obligated to attend,” Clavis said off-handedly, like he didn’t just a lit match onto a gasoline drenched wood house.

The mere thought of Clavis wearing it in public had that previously banked fire roaring back to life. “Please don’t,” she said, distressed, “At least not without warning me first. I think I’d lose my mind.”

“No, no, I think I’m onto something here,” Clavis giggled gleefully, nuzzling into her, “Anytime I want you to immediately ravish me, I’ll simply put it on.”

“Fuck, I think I would,” Lisette blurted. She didn’t trust herself not to jump Clavis the second she caught sight of the choker and tag. Clavis laughed and laughed and laughed. In the morning, Clavis would wake Lisette up with his lips and tongue and fingers. In the morning, they’d have an actual conversation about when he could wear it in public. And when he’d get out of bed, he would fall straight to the floor, and Lisette would pick him up and carry him to the bathroom for the next round.

#My fics #Ikepri #Visions of Temptation 2023 #Kinktober #Age appropriate

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tea-the-reconstructor · 11 months ago

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hehehehehe new TTRPG just got delivered and oh my gosh it's so pretty

Eat the Reich by Rowan, Rook and Decard is genuinely one of the most stylish looking games I've seen in a hot minute, and while I've yet to have a chance to run a game, I'm obsessed with it nonetheless! The basic premise is that it's 1943, Europe is in flames during the 2nd World War, and you are all a part of a crack squadron of vampires being sent to occupied Paris to do one thing and one thing only; Drink all of Hitler's blood. There's a full list of the stuff I got and my thoughts below the cut.

It arrived in this really cool manila folder, like just look at the detail!! like this alone would be such a neat thing to have sitting on my desk just as a prop, but this is only the beginning

The book itself is nothing short of a masterpiece, and honestly the pictures do not do it justice. The title is done with a really nice glossy finish, the cover has an amazing texture along the bottom and back to give the sensation of dried blood. the inside also folds out!! that little slit in the front is a full piece of art, and it really sells the appearance of peering into a coffin. The style of the entire book is genuinely so crunchy and good and I wanna put it in my mouth-

There's also the bookmark, coin, and patches which, once again, are so stylish and feel so high quality. I've been just stimming with the coin since I got it, the patches are so bright and look so pretty, and the bookmark is just fantastic. Pretty much everything from this is something I'd genuinely wanna get tattooed on me. There is one more thing I got, arguably the most important piece from this entire set...

WE GOT PIN-UPS BABY WOOOOOOOOOO! So the game comes with six characters you can play as (there are options to make your own), and there are associated character sheets within the book, but good golly these got me blushin' up a storm so hard that they can all smell the blood in my cheeks. From left to right, top to bottom, we have: - Cosgrave, a hackney necromancer who's on the run from the undead mafia of East London, crooked, charming, and damn lucky. - Nicole, a resistance guerrilla fighter and demolitions expert. Turned by her girlfriend and packing hella heat, she wants to meet a glorious end in battle. - Iryna, the Old Money occultist and the black sheep of her clan, who provides a significant portion of the funding to F.A.N.G. - Chuck, a whole-ass-real-ass corpse eatin' cowpoke. Genuinely a sweetheart, if you can look past that bit. He's on this mission not just to survive, but to earn freedom after eating a county sherrif and half his deputy. - Astrid, an ex-fighter pilot that was bitten by something in the frozen taiga, now bearing the soul of a wild predator within her. - Flint, the half-human half-bat, all nightmare. He's a cave-dwelling hunter who may or may not talk, possibly because he's just shy. Each of the characters have their own unique traits, abilities and stuff and I wanna kiss them all so bad it's not even funny man they're all so goddamn fine I'd let them drink me dry for just a single chance to feel the sweet nip of their lips against my skin, like being granted by a mere glimpse of heaven while still on earth simply by the hand of some foul creature who has not seen the light of God in far too long for simply doing what they must to survive, just. I need help.

Anyway uh. Eat the Reich is a goddamn beautiful game, thank you Rowan, Rook and Decard for making hot nazi-killing vampires that have not paid rent within my mind despite occupying it since like August of last year.

#ttrpg #ttrpg stuff #eat the reich #I know Chuck would treat me right #and I want to do [REDACTED] to Flint and Astrid #maybe at the same time

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cryiling · 1 year ago

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in honor of totk NOT winning goty 🫡 here is my notes app from when totk first came out and I wrote all my thoughts abt the game down

today totk got released!! and I played for 8 hours straight 😭 I'm not suuper far in the game yet, I sort of just started the rito quest with tulin, but here are some things I love and dislike about the game so far:

first of all I love the archaic outfit 😊 however I'm very sad that it only does 1 protection because I wanted to wear it all the time AJDBAJDB

I love everything about the zonai, like the way they look, the music associated with them, the way they talk at the end of a shrine, the way you can tell something is of zonai make just by looking at it, like that's how you know a concept design is well done ✋ I'm so fascinated by how rauru looks, he's just so amazing

I do hate how extremely similar aspects of the great sky island are to the great plateau, though. "room of awakening" bro r u serious rn 😭 the way rauru follows you around like the king good bye. I just feel like this could have been done a little more uniquely so that it didn't feel like the great plateau with a texture pack slapped over it

there's also some things that I felt botw just did so much better than totk. like the way rauru's ghost would disappear felt very cheap and uneventful, like why does he just fade to 0 opacity and nothing else happens ?? at least with the king his ghost faded with the little blue flames and sparkles, it made it seem more interesting

I hate the inventory layout I'm sawryy 😭 the botw inventory looks very sleek and easy to comprehend, but the way the totk inventory is designed just feels very cheap and elementary to me. not the scrolling on one page instead of having multiple pages, that's not my issue. just the color design and how so much more information is crowded into each tiny box when you are selling things, it just confuses the player with too much info

uhh what else. oh! I also hate the animation for when you get the abilities at the beginning, and when you get those lights of blessing or whatever (honestly I hate that name too, why is it so long I literally can't remember it 😭). like why do the orbs with the abilities and blessings look so 2d and unfinished? they look like they were slapped on top as a fanmade effect rather than actually being a part of the game, and every time I see it, I feel removed from being immersed in the games because it's distracting

but I totally love the way the zonai statues are at the end of the shrines!!! the way they talk is SO 🙏🙏 like I'm totally obsessed with it. also!! this is very specific, but I love the music that plays during shrine battles, like why does that song go so hard fr

omg something else I love is the pony points system it's so cute 😭✋ and honestly it's a great incentive for me to use the stables, I don't think I used them that much in botw so I definitely appreciate this new addition

AND MY HORSES ARE HERE TOO IM SO HAPPY 🥺🥺

however I am devastated that we can't pet dogs ☹️ like was no one at nintendo listening to us when we were all asking abt it hello ??

this is more of a personal preference rather than a game quality thing but I AM SO HAPPY THERE'S PIRATES IN THIS GAME AAAAAAA i can't wait to go to lurelin village I rlly hope they let me join the pirates 🙏 (hi it's me from the future here, girl wtf why are the pirates literally just MONSTERS ON BOATS 🙁 give me real fucking pirates you cowards)

omg yeah I was obsessed with the frozen rito village ost, it had the core elements of the ost from botw but with that lonely haunted vibe and I was gonna cry omg it really set the mood and I loved listening to it 😭

ohh yeah something I didn't enjoy was how it felt like I was being overloaded with so much plot-heavy info, especially once I started the rito village quest. like yeah I get maybe playing for 8 hours in one day is probably gonna fry my brain and attention span but it just felt like they were telling me to do all these things and I just felt so overwhelmed that I literally had to put the game away and stop playing for the night 😭 I think if things were spaced out more for what they tell you then the plot might have been more digestible

oh yeah this is minor but I don't like how when you go to a new place it says "discovery!" and also when you cook a new food it says "new!" like it felt very commercial and broke the immersion in the game for me, there was literally no reason for it to be in the game? (upon playing the game further I've decided I don't mind the "discovery" notif. but I still don't like when it says "new!" on a food I cooked sorryyy)

OMG WAIT SOMETHING I LOVED was how link cycles through humming different things when he cooks!!! it's so cute and I love him for it 😭

also I loved the function of when you open a chest and get a weapon but your inventory is full, instead of having to close the chest drop a weapon and reopen the chest, they added the feature where your inventory pops up and you can drop a weapon while still in the chest so you don't have to switch back and forth. it was so relieving for me ✋

umm I definitely feel like there was more I wanted to say, I just forgot 😭 but let me just say, despite me having a lot of negatives on here, I still really enjoyed this game, and honestly aside from the things I mentioned I disliked, I love pretty much everything else about the game!! there's so much to love and appreciate, I really can't list it all or else I'd just be listing literally every aspect about this game ajdhskfj. so yeah. while I'm disappointed that I found parts of totk to be lesser than what I had hoped, I am still overall ecstatic about this game and I'm so excited to see what else I'll discover in this game!!!! (hey it's me as of writing this post, I definitely wrote this last paragraph to avoid getting bullied for not liking a lot of things LOLL)

hey I'm back (not as of writing this post, like a couple months after initially starting totk), listen ok I hate these stupid sage powers like 💀 they're literally not useful at all, I think tulin's is the only one I use regularly, and even then I'd rather have revali's gale bc at least it goes up ??

I've been watching other ppl play and I realize that actually yunobo and riju can kinda be useful when fighting large groups, like if you just activate yunobi's ability you don't really need to aim him, and he'll hit a bunch of monsters. same with riju, just activate her and shoot somewhere random and it'll do damage. but other than that, like sidon and mineru are useless 😭 also I get rlly annoyed when I'm trying to pick things up and tulin gets in the way like GIRL GO AWAY ugh it would just be so much better if the abilities were activated like the champions instead idk

ok I'm obsessed with the way rauru's ear twitches LOLL THAT'S SO RANDOM but in the memories it's just so satisfying to see

hm idk how to explain this but there's some aspects of this game that feel very aoc to me and it annoys me. like, the defend kara kara bazaar + gerudo village quests, and that one thing in hateno with the stupid pumpkins, idk but it totally threw me off guard with having to fight with npcs, like it felt very jarring to have in the middle of totk. i never liked aoc or any hyrule warriors games so that's probably why I don't like this very much, but yeah I just didn't enjoy it very much

god I can't describe how much I hate everything abt mineru I'm sorry I just hate her bc like,, bro I hate to say it but I never connected with her character at all. every part of her in the storyline felt forced, and her connection to zelda and the sages never felt authentic. also I hate the eng voice acting like why does she talk like that 😭

her talking about draconification felt sooo forced. she said "there are stories of eating the stone to turn into an immortal dragon" like that could be a solution, then when rauru asked if they could do that, she was like "however 🤓☝️ you'll lose your sense of self and it's forbidden. I thought this would give us an answer but maybe not 😞" like BITCH IF YOU KNEW IT WAS FORBIDDEN WHY WOULD YOU SAY ANYTHING 😭😭 the way she said it, it sounded like she was reading a book and learning this information as they went, which would make sense why she brought it up but turns out it won't work. BUT SHE KNEW THE FULL THING ALREADY WHY DID SHE SAY IT LIKE THAT???? god it annoyed me so much, it was such a bad foreshadowing plot point

and honestly her entire quest confused me, bc the whole first part has a very thunder/lightning theme so I thought her power would be related to that but it wasn't at all? like how come we didn't do anything spirit related meanwhile all the other sages had areas that related to their powers, ugh it felt so dumb. lightning is already heavily associated with riju + the gerudo, so it felt weird that they themed the whole first half of mineru's quest around it too.

I hate her stupid construct. IT'S SO LAME 😭 has anyone actually enjoyed fighting with it. has it actually benefitted anyone. like be so fr rn. I hated it so much that I built a freaking airbike and just flew to the final temple without fighting any of the stuff along the way bc I refuse to be forced to do things I don't like 🫶

and then at the end of the game when her spirit leaves her construct and she dies or whatever, I was just like 😐 they tried to make it emotional but literally mineru is my worst enemy and I was cheering and applauding atp. like I could care less. her character felt, idk how to describe it, like.. cringy and self-inserty? something about it felt very off to me and so I was just never able to like her. it felt like nintendo was trying to force me to like her and I was Not about to let that happen

hang on I have other things to complain about... oh yeah the STABLE TROTTER CONDUCTOR LIKE BRO 😭😭😭 why does he sound like mario, like I actually want to punch him in the face. the rest of the band is fine tho, I like their music 🤞

hm something I'm annoyed about is how much harder it is to find the dragons now. in botw their flight pattern was more predictable, but here like istg I can never find them when I need them 😭 it's just vv inconvenient

ok I'm back back. I think that about covered all my thoughts BUT one more thing. the map is so fucking cluttered. something that was done so well with botw was the openness of everything, it really fit the vibes and it immersed you in the expanse of the game. but the totk map was WAYY too busy 😭😭 not only with the purah pad map (which btw I still think sheikah slate is a better name) but just in general when you're walking around hyrule. there is Too Much going on and I don't like it

LAST THING although tbh this could be a whole separate rant. the way the purah pad is compatible with zonai technology makes no fucking sense???? like there is NO logical explanation for how it can mark waypoints at zonai shrines

in botw it made sense, because the shrines were sheikah-made and so was the slate, so ofc the sheikah would have built them to be compatible and programmable with one another. but the zonai shrines??? first of all they're just rocks on sand. no sort of technology the purah pad can latch onto. second, you activate the shrine with the ZONAI ARM, not the purah pad. literally no connection is made. this is such a small thing to fixate on but every time I think about it I am filled with inexplicable rage

I have a whole OTHER rant on why the sheikah tech disappearing makes literally No Sense but. this post is long enough as it is. if u want I can make a separate post but I think this is good enough for now 🤗

#tears of the kingdom #totk #the legend of zelda #tloz #loz #long post #me being So Normal about this game #hope this doesn't flop #also hope this doesn't get me cancelled #listen no one is doing it like botw. and if totk also won goty I feel like that would diminish botw's cultural impact

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zengroove · 2 years ago

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Jealous dude u can call me vanilla but u will never taste me so u no keep it real a, u hate whatever flavor I am so won't u stay off me wall damn? I don't like to hear dudes talking 'bout me flavor. I'm not gay. Also I don't date haters. It's obvious u hate some no matter what dey do. Cause u insecure dude. I no mind cause it cost me no kitty off this ducc of mine. Besides we read what u wrote. U n no position to call anybody extract yo. I see no flame anywhere around u, just a critic with a mouth when we look at u. Didn't u just lose a fine hottie to the Hive? Yet u reading me shit, stalking me, wasting ya Time. I no on the Hive. Focus ya hate in wrong direction never see the enemy stab u in the side. I'm not the one logging into to air damn network, obsessed with attention, loyal to none, stalking with a smirk, not knowing me worth. I give Tumblr likes n some needed life. U no like? Hit blocc alright? Or come talk ya trash n me face. Bet u won't. This is me space. Women are invited, u r not. U just mad she was frozen til I made her hot. U a boy kid with much to learn. Don't play with me Fire, u no get burned. U can't even rhyme. Dat hatred done fucced up yo Mind should go bacc to school get more education u no Have the vocabulary to keep up with me u need explaining. Grow up we all waiting for you're changing u need it if u ever plan to keep it know what I'm saying? Getting 1 easy, any True G know keeping 1 is Harder. Always someone with a bigger ducc, more money or faster car. Take ya losses with grace and dignity or u just look like a sore loser like trumpet b. If I'm extract u just food coloring as in u have no taste n u have no Bass n u just have a critics face. Without sumpin to criticize wtf r u? I didn't see ya name in the hall of fame dude. Stop trying to kill Tumblr u stupid twitter employee before ya hq burns to the ground again see? KILLING DOVES KILLING DOVES KILLING DOVES

#Killing Doves

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goodfish-bowl · 2 years ago

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Paved with Good Intentions

Ectoberhaunt Day 5: Wraith

AO3 Link

Summary: Vlad tried so hard, so desperately to help for once in his life. He just wanted to help Daniel overcome this, like he knew he could. Of course, for someone like him, this could only go terribly wrong.

Warnings: heavy angst, character death, self starvation, unhealthy ways of handling grief.

Words: 1733

Notes: I’ve never done much with Dan, so now let’s change that. 1700 words of pure grief, to the point it might be my most tragic piece of the month. Have fun, you’ve been warned.

@ectoberhaunt

In the days since his family had died, Vlad had been certain that the boy could recover just fine. This was just normal mourning. Daniel had closed himself off, hardly eating, hardly awake, hardly sleeping, trapped in a half-awake stupor. But he would get over it eventually. Of course, he was concerned, he had to practically force the boy to eat, but other than that, he left him alone. Vlad couldn’t quite understand, but Daniel had lost five of the most important people to him in one day and blamed himself. But despite all he goaded the child, Daniel was a force to be reckoned with when he wanted to be. Vlad was certain he could overcome his grief. It would come to pass, and he would move on.

The only thing that passed, however, was time. Daniel was decidedly not okay. His mourning grew deeper, and more self-destructive. He was growing thin, and his pale skin grew sickly, but the stubborn child refused help. He talked to no one and had to be physically dragged out of his room in Vlad’s manor. Vlad had tried everything he could think of to lift the boy’s spirits, from friendly bonding activities to things like going on a nightly flight. Vlad had even purchased tickets to an exclusive space expo he was certain would rouse the stubborn child, only to get no reaction. He had even tried to rile up the moody teen upon occasion, playing villain to the little badger’s hero, but there was no fight left in him.

Vlad had only managed it once, and that had been a mistake, he’d gone too far. Vlad should have known better than to disrespect the dead, even Jack, especially not to his mourning son. Vlad had never thought the boy had it in him, but Daniel had come at him with actual vicious intent. Attacking him with a mad fury that didn’t suit him, no banter or witty comebacks at all, just silent, feral rage. But that wasn’t what had given him a trail of crumbs to follow, no. Daniel’s ghost form had taken an abrupt shift in appearance. Skin so sallow and pale it was closer to his own form’s skin tone than the tan tone he normally sported. His hair wisped and flickered like the dying flames of a fire, with dark circles under his eyes that carried over from his human form. His teeth were sharpened to razor points in his feral rage, and his eyes burned a deep red rather than their normal ectoplasmic green. Daniel looked more like a ghost than he ever had before.

Vlad began looking into more ghastly explanations for Daniel’s condition. He called in favors, and asked around the Zone all he could, even incurring some debts of his own. It had taken digging and prodding, repeating the same story that wasn’t his own again and again. The whole Zone must know what happened to the boy’s family by now. He supposed that was the only reason he’d been allowed to seek help for Daniel in the Far Frozen. Frostbite, a powerful yeti-like ghost whom Vlad quickly decided he shouldn’t antagonize ever again, lowly suggested it could be a failure of obsession, knowing the nature of Phantom’s obsession, though never mentioning the taboo. If his loved ones had died under his watch, didn’t that fit perfectly? And it did.

Daniel showed all of the symptoms of a ghost that had failed their obsession to the point of destabilization. Humans could grow and move on, ghost couldn’t. It was up in the air for halfas like Vlad and the boy. Mixed with his grief, it could be disastrous. It was possibly already too late to do anything about it. The boy was destabilizing, practically killing himself in his grief.

Vlad doubled down on his efforts, nearly dragging Daniel out of his hovel of a room every day to participate in life, kicking and screaming if he had to. He had the bite marks and bruises to prove it. And it had helped, even if only marginally. The boy would come down by himself and eat food. Vlad had it prepared specially to help revitalize the boy’s ghost half, to help establish a semblance of stability. He was talking to him now, usually just senseless chatter and small talk, but it was better than the silence,or the screaming. But the boy didn’t join him in his offers for training, or deeper conversation, returning to his room nearly as soon as he could. But at least he wasn’t as thin. He was improving, and that’s all that mattered.

It was at dinner when Vlad decidedly told the boy what was happening to himself, how his ghost half had magnified his grief and was destabilizing him. Daniel had given him an odd look, somewhere between hopeful and immense self-hatred. Daniel looked over himself, as if finally realizing the damage he was doing to himself, pale skin, hollow eyes, thin figure and all. He thanked him, and then returned to his room for the evening like he always did. Vlad thought nothing of it.

Daniel barricaded himself in his room, even going as far to phase-proof it. Vlad couldn’t get in without knocking down a wall. He was only accepting food, completely decontaminated meals as well, without a trace of ectoplasm in them. Everything Vlad had been working towards these past few weeks came toppling down in a matter of days. It took him a few days to connect the lines of Daniel’s reasoning in his mind. He spat out curses as he rushed from his study to the boy’s room in a mad fury, darting through walls in human form.

Vlad pounded upon the door with a fist. “Daniel! We need to talk! Please!” He cried out urgently, “Daniel… Danny-”

The door creaked open, but Daniel wasn’t there on the other side to open it. It swung open on its own, as if it had just been left unlocked. Vlad took a step to collect himself before walking in.

The only light filtered in through the crack in the blackout curtains. The lights overhead had long since been shattered, with the remains of the glass scattered about, glinting in the sliver of sunlight. It looked like the sheets had been torn up by something with claws, burned in places as well. The bed itself wasn’t much better. There were scattered burn marks all throughout the room, the marks of an ectoblast familiar to him. Whatever belongings Daniel had brought with him, were scattered about the room, mixed in with the remains of the several meals Vlad had been allowed to bring in over the past few days. Most things were shredded or broken, scattered about like a twister had blitzed through the space. The only thing that remained relatively untouched was a photograph, laying in a spot clear from clutter, perfectly in the center of the destruction almost reverently. It was a picture of Daniel and his family long before Vlad had met him.

Huddled in the corner of the dark room was Daniel himself, hunched over in the shadows, staring at Vlad with hollow eyes, constantly flickering between colors like a broken screen. Blue one second, then green, or even red the next. He was skinnier than he had been a few days ago, nearly emaciated at this point. His dark circles were burrowing into his eyes, making their color all the more shocking. Wounds lined his arms, both burns and scratches, some looking more intentional than others. He looked at Vlad like a starving animal and Vlad approached him as such.

“Daniel…” Vlad whispered, “Oh, Little Badger.”

“Hey, Vlad,” the boy rasped out.

“You know this isn’t right. This isn’t the right way to be going about this. I’m… I’m worried about you, my boy. Why won’t you let me help you? Just this once?” Vlad pleaded.

Daniel uncurled himself and looked Vlad dead in the eye, the flickering behind his eyes coming to a halt at the frigid, dull blue they had become in human form. (And it was almost like that spark of fire had returned to them in those brief moments. It gave him a vain sort of hope, sour and bitter as it was).

“Are you sure? I… My ghost half is the cause of everything. I can’t do anything because of it! It’s the source of my nightmares. Of me dragging my friends into all my ghost hunting, the reason I had to give up everything, the reason I’m failing school, and it’s the reason they died! I’d rather be completely human again, Vlad. I want it gone.”

“And starving and killing yourself won’t help with that! You have to be strong, Daniel, and overcome this, I know you can.” Vlad hated the way he cried out.

“But I can’t, not with my ghost half tearing me apart. I failed, Vlad! I failed them, I couldn’t save them, and now my ghost half wants me to join them!”

“So, destabilizing yourself further is the solution?! You’re only speeding up the process.”

“Then help me.”

Vlad stopped dead, his heart nearly following suit. “What? What could you possibly mean?”

Daniel met his eyes, the first time since he’d moved in with Vlad, and blue eyes spilling with tears. That look did something to him then, so profound it ached deep in his chest.

“Help me get rid of my ghost half. You’re an ectobiologist just like my parents. Hell, you’re credited in nearly all of their early papers! You can figure out a way to remove my ghost half without killing me! If you really want to help, help me do this. Please, Vlad. I just want these emotions gone.”

Vlad hated the way he gave in.

Vlad should’ve known better. He always should’ve known better. He’d always had just enough intelligence to pull off whatever it was he had devised, but never enough to truly gauge the consequences. Phantom, full of grief and rage and self-hatred, destabilized not only from an obsession failure, but magnified by getting torn out from his human half. There was no saving him now, not when the consequence of his one, good-intentioned action stared at him across the lab like starved, rabid wolf.

Not with how Phantom hovered over his own corpse like a wraith.

#danny phantom #Ectoberhaunt22 #EH Chaos #Day 5 #wraith #goodfish writes #dp fic #angst #mourning #tw starvation #unhealthy grieving #Vlad POV #Dan Phantom #ectoberhaunt 2022 #gonna have to do a side-by-side with my disecc fic and see which one deserves the title of my most devastating fic

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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Closed Signal - Tom Hardy smut

The one where Tom fears he might be getting too old for you

Warnings: smut, implied age gap, implied size kink, inappropriate drunk friend, insecure!Tom, dirty talk, daddy kink, exhibitionism kink, mention of overstimulation, name-calling, jealousy, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: this idea came from a request and I took advantage of the plot bunny to make it as some sort of follow-up to this story. Can totally be read by itself though - as most of my stuff 🤔

The party was going in full swing by the time Tom arrived. He’d been working like crazy lately, doing pre-production work for his next movie, which was one he was quite excited about.

It was completely different from anything he’d ever done before, and while that in itself presented a risk, my boyfriend was precisely the type to thrive in that anxiety. He just put a lot of himself in the process, and it’d been getting more and more difficult to see him outside of breakfast or bed time, so I was really excited when he agreed to meet me here.

“There you are, baby.” I smiled widely as his familiar mob of hair - now slightly grown for the role - appeared in the distance, briefly distracted from the conversation I’d been entertaining with my friend Chris. “I missed you.”

I stood up on my tiptoes to kiss him when he was close enough, rubbing my cheek against his bearded one. He was also letting it grow for the role, and I didn’t tell him, but the spots of white hair were disturbingly arousing to me, as if it reminded me of the age gap in our relationship, the almost taboo nature of it.

“Hey man, how have you been?” Chris nodded towards Tom, slapping his bicep as he approached to say hello. My boyfriend pointed at the beer in our hands, confirming, “Are you drinking beer?” to which I sheepishly waved the empty bottle I was holding.

“I finished mine, I was about to go and get another.” But Tom, ever the gentleman, was already shaking his head.

“Stay here, I’ll grab us both new ones.” My eyes trailed after him as he left, taking in the expanse of his back, how it signaled how much larger than my body his was. It still brought a shiver down my spine, a year after we’d started dating.

It was silent for a while as I couldn’t remember what it was that I’d been chatting with Chris until he was the one who broke the silence. “I’ll never understand how the hell Tom managed to get with you.”

The sentence was so out of place it took me a while to figure out how the hell to respond to it, and in that silence, drunk and inappropriate Chris prospered.

“Is it a kinky thing?” I was once again taken by surprise, mouth hanging open as I stared at my friend without believing what was coming out of his. “Do you get off on being his little girl or something?”

My face felt warm as he finally shut his mouth, but I didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or pure, unadulterated anger. “Why the fuck do you think that it’s appropriate to talk to me like that, Chris?”

My tone and words shocked him, the widened eyes said as much. “Oh, sorry.” He gulped and shifted from one foot to another, and still he couldn’t help but insist, “I just… Isn’t he a bit too old for you?”

I narrowed my eyes at him with my blood pumping inside my veins, particularly because I could see Tom had frozen in his tracks right behind the man that had angered me, clearly having heard what was said and also clearly taken back by it.

“Chris, he’s not even five years older than you.” The way is eyebrows shot up wasn’t comforting to me in the slightest.

“Oh, shit! Really? The white beard threw me off completely.”

The night was pretty much over for the both of us after this. I knew Tom was stuck on Chris’s words and I also knew I wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it. I’d have to wait until he decided to speak his mind to me.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long. As we prepared for bed that evening, he approached me with cautious steps as I braced myself for what was coming, but I was pleasantly surprised by the tone of jest he assumed to complain, “My bones ache.”

I stared at his childish pout for a long time, not quite believing this is how he was going to go on about this until finally laughter escaped my chest. “And still, you fuck me just right,” I teased him, making him scoff as he averted his gaze, but I knew I’d played this to his ego.

A small silence followed my response, a pause in which I watched him gather his thoughts before he met my eyes to question, “Don’t you think I’m too old for you?” Opening up a slow smile, I opened my arms to welcome him into my embrace as I retorted, “I obviously don’t.”

Still, he sighed, rubbing his full beard against my neck as he listened to my heartbeat, so I proceeded, “And I also think our age gap is sexy.” That got his attention. He licked his lips as he sat up slightly, hovering over my lying body as he took in the shirt of his I was wearing to bed - and nothing else.

“Oh, is that so?”

Biting my lip to stop my smirk from growing, I nodded before voicing, “Yes… daddy.”

The way his eyes darkened was undeniable and it fed this hunger inside of me that I wasn’t expecting to feel. Suddenly, I was up on my knees, pushing him back against the bed as I took my place over his lap.

“Would you like to fuck me in front of Chris, baby?” His hands on my naked hips tightened to the point of bruising. I relished in it. “Make him see how well you give it to me?”

The fact that he wasn’t wearing any underwear under his sweatpants definitely helped me when I slid them down just enough to grab a hold of his dick. “Make him watch as you fucked me senseless, make me cry for you to stop while you kept fucking me until I pass out?”

“He could never get me this wet.” He felt what I meant the second I started to slowly sit down on his dick, biting my lower lip to stop myself from screaming at the pleasurable stretch. “All you have to do is stare at me and I’m ready for your cock, daddy.”

He pulled me by the back of my neck to meet his lips, panting against mine in something that was less of a kiss and more of a different way to breathe me in. “You’re too fucking hot.” It sounded almost like a complaint. It made me laugh.

“C’mon, daddy,” I whined in my best bratty voice, the one that called out to Tom like a flame did to a moth. “Take it out on me. Use me.” This time he did kiss me - and it was wild and forceful, like the way he started thrusting up against me just before he threw me on the bed to take his place on top of my body.

“You’re my perfect little slut, huh?” He nuzzled the crook of my neck, breathing me in as I wiped away the taste of him from my lips. I was obsessed with it, just like I was obsessed with every part of him. “So you don’t think about him when I’m fucking you?”

The question was paired with a forceful thrust that ended with the head of his cock rubbing precisely against my sweet spot, making me mewl underneath him. “Answer me, darling.”

His hand covered my throat, easily catching my attention. I answered honestly. “I don’t think about him at all, daddy.” He seemed to like it, judging by the way he immediately started fucking me against the bed, forcing me to hold onto his shoulders as I screamed in pleasure.

“Good answer, sweetheart,” he chuckled, mouth exploring every inch of skin he could reach. “You take me so well, baby,” he complimented, knowing how it always got to me. “I bet Chris gets off thinking about doing this to you, fucking you like I’m doing right now. But he never will, huh?”

I was quick to shake my head, incapable of voicing a simple ‘no’ with how drunk on his cock I felt. “That’s my girl.” The thought of being his had been such a distant dream for so long that just those words were enough to set me off, leading me to an orgasm that milked his too.

As he emptied himself inside of me, he softly fell over my body, smashing me against the mattress. “Tommy…” I whined, trying to push him away, much to his amusement. “’Can’t breathe.”

He was still laughing when he rolled onto his back, pulling me with him so I’d lay my head on his chest. It was quiet and peaceful for a while, my breathing slowly getting deeper and deeper as I listened to his heartbeat right by my ear until…

“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby.” His voice was quiet as he brushed my hair away from my face, trying to get a clear view of my expression before he continued, “I still have enough stamina to fuck you through the night.”

All I could do was snort, hiding my face against his skin before I teased him, “Good, because I desperately want your cock in my mouth.”

#my fics #tom hardy smut #tom hardy #smut #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy reader #tom hardy reader insert #tom hardy reader inserts #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy one-shot #tom hardy one-shots #tom hardy writing

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literaila · 4 years ago

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flick, flick, burn

spencer reid x reader

request: Can i request a fic where the reader and spencer are dating and the reader believes that spencer if in love with jj so she distances herself from him??? and garcia finds out and reassures her?? sorry if this doesn’t make sense but thank u if you do decide to write it!😊

warnings: none.. theres lots of mentions of fire.. and jealousy...

a/n: lovely lovely request, i’m sorry if i butchered it.

It started with text messages.

The stupid text messages.

Spencer and Y/N were sitting on the couch, practically on each other's lap, watching some documentary about ancient Greece when Spencer got a text.

Which was unusual.

Every one of Spencer's friends knew that he hated texting, and hated using his phone in general. Which is why his pocket was constantly buzzing out of soft ringtone, instead of insistent messages.

But he had gotten a text.

Y/N didn't think of it until later.

Later when he started taking long phone calls late at night.

When he started taking phone calls when he thought she was asleep. When Y/N laid in bed and wondered, wondered where he went, wondered when he was coming back, wondered why he had left.

He never took phone calls that late.

She pretended it wasn't happening, after all, he always came back to bed, always came back and always wrapped his arms around her waist, and she always pretended to be asleep, she always listened to him breathe into her neck until he was asleep again.

He didn't know she was awake.

Phone calls didn't mean something was wrong.

Everything else was the same, Spencer still woke Y/N up with soft kisses in the morning, he still called her ‘love’ and reminded her to be safe at work. He still got flustered at Morgan calling them “lovebirds” and he still waited until everyone looked away to kiss her. He still brought her coffee at her desk, still read to her at night before they slept. Everything else was exactly the same.

And if Spencer wasn't going to say anything about the phone calls, neither was Y/N.

It wasn't until later, later when he seemed more distracted, later when he had to skip out on dinner, “I just have to- have to go get this book. I’ll be back later.” he had said, it wasn't until later when he didn't get back for several hours, it wasn't until then Y/N really started paying attention.

Something was going on.

It didn't take a profiler to see that.

It wasn't that he had to tell her everything, no she didn't expect that from him, but she also didn't expect him to start leaving the house almost every time they were home, and she didn't expect him to get back when she had already gone to bed.

So she started paying more attention.

And the texts, and phone calls, and the leaving at strange times of night, they all continued.

Y/N thought about asking, thought about telling Spencer what she had noticed, but she didn't want him to think she didn't trust him. She didn't want him to feel like he wasn't allowed to have his own things.

And then she noticed something else.

Near the end of the workday she had been walking to Hotch's office to turn in her case reports, she was exhausted and on her 6th cup of coffee, she walked by JJ’s office when she noticed something in the window.

JJ and Spencer.

Talking.

That wasn't weird, it wasn't unusual. Since Y/N’s first day of work, she had known about the strong friendship the two of them shared.

It wasn't them being together that she noticed.

It was the way Spencer was looking at her.

The way he was standing in front of her, smiling, a far off look in his face.

It was the way JJ was smiling back.

It was the look, a look Y/N had seen so many times, a look Spencer only used when he was looking at her, it was the look that she’d fallen in love with.

It was the look he was giving JJ.

She felt her heart racing as she thought of the prospect that Spencer was looking at JJ the way he looked at Y/N. She felt gasoline fill her stomach, and then her lungs, and she felt it when the gas was ignited in her brain.

She was on fire.

She stared and felt her mind turning. She remembered something Spencer had told her, years ago, when they were still just friends. She remembered the dazed look on his face and the smile in his eyes. She remembered the words that he said, the words that she repeated in her head even then

I think I’m in love with her.

She was burning.

She remembered the way he used to stare at her, used to be amazed at everything she did. She remembered him trying to act more mature, less awkward, around her.

Her chest was burning.

She remembered how innocent and lovestruck he had been.

Her stomach was burning.

She remembered watching as he went to invite her to the football game.

Her mind was burning.

She remembered how crushed he’d been when the date hadn’t gone as planned.

She was burning hot, and stuck in place, and frozen staring at them. She was being melted from the inside out. She watched and she watched and eventually, when she felt like it was almost over, when she could almost feel her body turn to ash, it was then that she walked away.

It was then that she walked into the bathroom and gasped, and cursed at herself for thinking the way she was thinking. She shouldn't have been thinking that Spencer would never do that. She trusted Spencer and she shouldn't have been thinking that.

How could she ever think that?

Even though she reassured herself, told herself, over and over, Spencer would never do that, even though she repeated that in her head, and out loud in front of the mirror, even though she said it over and over again, it didn't go away.

The flame in her body had died down, it stopped scaring her from the inside, but it wasn't gone. It was only a sliver of a flame, barely big enough to be noticeable, but it wasn't gone. No, it didn't leave.

In fact, the fire, the blaze in her body, it had only just begun.

***

“But, Pen! I saw it.”

“Sweetheart, you’re making stuff up.”

Y/N walked -paced- around Penelope’s office. She was holding a ball in her hands, which she threw in the air over and over again as she thought about JJ and Spencer.

It had been almost two weeks since she first saw them in the office, two weeks since she had started obsessing over JJ and Spencer.

She noticed everything now.

She noticed Spencer smile at JJ whenever he looked at her, she noticed how JJ smiled back, she noticed how Spencer always seemed to focus all his attention on JJ when she was around, she noticed the way they teased and laughed together. She noticed how Spencer was always waiting after something he said for feedback from JJ, and how JJ always gave him it. She noticed how empty her house was when Spencer was gone and thought how lonely she felt when she had no idea where he’d gone. She noticed the constant text messages and hour-long phone calls.

She noticed how the flame inside of her only got bigger anytime any of those things happened.

Y/N couldn't keep it to herself, couldn't keep noticing all these things, and keeping them ingrained in her head.

She noticed how distant she had become from Spencer, choosing to watch him instead of being with him, and she noticed the fear of living in her body every time he was around. She didn't want to talk to him about it, didn't want him to get the wrong idea- didn't want to hear the truth.

So she talked to Garcia instead.

“No. No.” Y/N walked over to Penelope and sat down in the spare chair next to her. “He looked at her like he looked at me.”

“Did he really, or are you making it up?” Penelope said, dubious, as she typed something.

Y/N could feel herself getting more and more annoyed. She knew what she saw.

“Penelope. I know that look. It's the look he gives me.”

It was then that Garica looked at Y/N, really looked at her. What she saw was a panicked girl, who looked like she hadn't been getting enough sleep. She saw a panicked girl who looked scared.

Garcia turned to face her, deciding that what Y/N needed right then, more than anything, was someone to listen.

“Okay cupcake, tell me what happened.”

And Y/N explained, she explained what she saw in the office, she explained the words Spencer had explained so long ago, she explained the texts and the phone calls, and the late night's Spencer was gone. She explained and she kept going, kept thinking, overthinking. The flame inside her was flickering higher and higher.

Garcia listened to everything, and after Y/N was finished she looked at her and sighed. “Are you sure we’re thinking about the same person?”

“Penelope.”

“What? The genius I know loves you, with his entire heart.” she paused, “besides, Spencer would never do that.”

Y/N quietly mumbled, “yeah I know…”

“Okay, then what's still bothering you sugar?”

“I just.. I feel like something is going on. I can't explain it..” Y/N said desperately, the heat in her chest branding her. “And I don't want to talk to him about it, actually I’m not even sure when I could get a chance!” she said and threw her hands up “It's not like he's been home recently…”

“Pumpkin I’m sure there's a reasonable explanation…”

“Yes, I know. I know that! But I just, we haven't even had the time to talk about anything these past couple of weeks and he’d rather go out and do something than spend time with me…”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Burn baby, burn to the ground.

***

Another week passed. Another week of Y/N avoiding talking to her boyfriend, the man she was infuriatingly in love with. Another week of watching from the sidelines as JJ got more smiles than Y/N got glances. Another week of spending hours in bed waiting for him to come back, and then pretending to be asleep.

It was another dreadful week.

It was a bit different this week though, this week Y/N had been actively trying to avoid Spencer. It wasn't because she didn't want to see him, she wanted to see him so much it killed her, it was because she was tired of feeling alone with him. She was tired of cuddling with him at night but barely talking to him the next morning. She was tired of watching him talk with JJ, tired of watching the two of them leave the room together, not knowing what either of them were doing. She was tired of him not being home, tired of it all.

So she avoided it.

And that included avoiding Spencer.

She didn't wait for him to bring her coffee, set her alarm to wake up to- earlier than him -sat on the opposite side of the plane, reading her file instead of going over it with him.

She got the feeling that Spencer noticed, based on the reassuring smiles she got more often than not from him, which she assumed were messages asking if she was okay, messages promising he was there for her.

She ignored them.

She just looked away.

Y/N knew it was childish, avoiding him instead of talking out their issues, instead of talking to him about what was bothering her. Most of the time she felt ridiculous doing it, but she couldn't take any more of the exhaustion that came with being present all the time.

It was the night after a short case, one that had worked out in favor of all of them, when Spencer asked her if she wanted to go to dinner.

“Um, I don't know if I can,” she replied, not looking at him, “I think me and Pen are doing something tonight…”

She didn't see the way Spencer frowned, his almost nervous, almost hopeful stance deflating.

“Oh. I um-” he cleared his throat “its.. kind of important.” his face was tense and his eyes were staring right at her, hoping she would look at him and see how important it really was.

When she didn't answer, instead choosing to continue unpacking her bag, he tried again.

“Y/N… I really need to talk to you,” he said teasingly.

“Can't see why you would need to talk to me now.” Y/N mumbled under her breath, the past couple of weeks flying through her head. Why did he need her now? What about JJ?

“What?” Spencer said, stepping closer to her.

“Nothing Spence..” she sighed. She was going to have to run out of the house and barge into Garcias without any warning. That's what I get for lying, she thought. “I really have to go though.” She said walking past Spencer, who now had a frown on his face.

He had noticed the distance between them in the past couple of weeks, noticed how little he had really seen her, but he figured it was only because he started it, he figured Y/N was just trying to leave him alone.

He didn't think she didn't want to spend time with him.

Just as Y/N was about to walk out the door and go crying to her friend, she heard her boyfriend speak from behind her.

“Are you trying to avoid me?”

Y/N jumped, surprised he had followed her to the door. It took a couple of moments before she processed the question.

Was she actively avoiding him? Yes. Did he need to know that? Probably not.

“No,” she said quietly, cursing herself for not being more convincing.

“Y/N, we haven't spent any proper time together in…” he paused for only a second, just a second, “23 days. I miss you, love.”

She stayed silent. She missed him too.

Flick, flick.

Fire.

“Y/N?”

Burn. Fire. Burning her. From. The inside out. Talk to him. Say something.

Y/N shakily let out a breath. If she could just breathe, maybe it would be enough for the fire to burn out, maybe it would just be enough for the flame inside of her to extinguish.

Flick, flick, higher.

Her head was running, running away from Spencer away from it all. But her body was there, she was there, and she was running closer.

“Y/N? Is there something going on?”

Maybe Spencer had been talking this entire time, maybe she just hadn't noticed it, maybe she had missed something. She didn't know, she only caught a couple of words, a couple of words between the insistent voice in her head, between all the worried thoughts that came to her, burning the fire up her throat.

Why haven't you been home? Where have you been? Why are you getting so many text messages, who is texting you? I’m going crazy. Is there something happening with JJ, is there some rational answer to all my questions. Why am I still here? Why am I burning. Why do you look at JJ like that what is going on-

Flick, flick, flame.

“Is there something going on with JJ?” she said finally. Quickly. Quietly.

She didn't even know if Spencer heard her.

“What?”

He did.

“I saw you.” burn. “A couple of weeks ago.” burn. “In her office, you were,” burn “you were standing with her and- and it…” a flash. “And you were... You were just.” just burn. “You were looking…” swallow. breathe. Burn.

She paused. She paused because she didn't know what to say, didn't understand why it hurt her so much to talk to him, didn't understand why she couldn't just say the words, why it was so difficult for her to tell him, she didn't understand why she was talking at all.

She didn't understand why she was burning alive.

She heard Spencer say something behind her. Something that sounded like encouragement to go on. She didn't realize that he was standing in front of her, she didn't look up to see him, he was standing in front of her, staring at her, wondering what was wrong.

“You were looking at her,” flick “looking at her.” higher “like you look.” and “like you look at me.” higher.

The fire had reached her brain, had scarred her entire body, had devoured her whole, had left her with no mercy.

Burn, baby, burn.

And Spencer was thinking, he knew what his girlfriend was saying, he knew her inside and out. He was trying, trying to remember, trying to recall a time where he had ever looked at JJ, a time where he had looked at anyone, like he had looked at Y/N, trying to remember what had happened in her office a couple of weeks ago.

“Do you love her?” Y/N said finally.

And to her, it was as if she couldn't think anymore, she didn't have the room to think with the fire inside her body, her mental block was gone, and all she could say were the words that scared her, the words she wished were not true.

She didn't look at Spencer to see him shocked. She didn't look to see the way his eyes widened.

She didn't look to see him remembering exactly what had happened. He smiled at the memory, at the memory at him and JJ in her office, talking.

Spencer realized where all of this had gone wrong. But his words didn't come quick enough and Y/N continued.

“You’ve been gone. You’ve been gone a lot, and you’ve been taking phone calls late at night” the fire was getting hotter and hotter “and I’ve been pretending to sleep, and you haven't been smiling at me and- and I-” her entire body was begging her to stop but she continued, continued helping the flames rise “I’ve been thinking you would never do that- because you- you wouldn't but I can't think of anything else and.”

Burn.

Spencer watched his girlfriend crumble before him. He watched her, and he saw all the things he’d been missing, he saw her eyes break and her body fall, and he wondered when he had missed how alone he’d left her.

“I don't know what to do Spence,” she said finally.

And the flame was in her heart, it was in her heart turning her to ash. She wondered, if she was gone, if her body was finally too tired, too strained to go on, she wondered if she was a pile of char on their carpet, she wondered if the fire had stopped.

She looked up at her boyfriend.

She didn't know what was going on.

Spencer was talking to her, he was trying to explain, trying to tell her, but when he looked in her eyes he could tell that she wasn't listening. He could tell he had to do something else.

They were already running late.

He wondered how to fix this.

“Y/N..” he said.

And she could hear him. She could always hear him. Even over the fire in her ears.

“Y/N love, I need to take you somewhere okay? I need to take you somewhere, and I’ll explain everything I promise. I just need you to come with me okay?”

Y/N nodded.

Maybe the fire would go away soon.

***

It was silent in the car.

Y/N was silent. She was sitting in the passenger seat, trying to breathe, trying to collect herself. She didn't want to be a pile of ash sitting in her seat, she wanted to be there, she wanted to listen, she wanted to listen, she wanted to understand. She was trying her best to breathe.

She wondered where they were going. She didn't recognize anything around her.

Spencer was silent. He was collecting his thoughts, collecting his nerves, he knew right now he should be taking care of his girlfriend, his girlfriend who looked so broken standing in their doorway only a half an hour ago, but he needed to think. He needed to think about what he would tell her how he would explain.

Both of them stayed quiet.

It was 15 minutes later when Spencer made a right turn, into an empty parking lot. They were 45 minutes away from their house, 45 minutes away from the fire, 45 minutes closer to the truth.

Y/N still had no idea what was going on.

Spencer parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt.

Y/N built up the courage to look at him, she still didn't say a word.

“Come on, we’re almost there,” Spencer said, giving her a hesitant smile. She didn't smile back.

Spencer walked away from the car, and Y/N followed him. She followed him on a light path made in the ground, followed him past a small pond, followed him up a hill, up up the hill where Spencer stopped, where he waited for her to catch up, looking ahead of him.

Y/N made it up and looked with him.

There was a pavilion 10 feet away from them, it sat on top of the hill, lit up with fairy lights, Y/N walked closer. She saw flowers that laid the ground, candles that she assumed were meant for when it got dark.

She saw a plan in front of her.

She still had no idea what was going on.

“What's-” she swallowed her voice almost numb with disbelief “what's this?” she asked.

Spencer smiled, only a little, and grabbed her hand leading her inside the pavilion.

“This,” he said “is what was so important.”

Y/N looked around again. “I-I still don't understand.”

She was trying to breathe. Trying to put out the flame still alive inside of her. She was trying to understand why they were here.

“Let's sit down. I can explain everything.”

“Explain,” she said softly, almost as if a question, as he helped her sit down.

It was silent for a few moments, Y/N could feel her heart racing, burning, as she waited for him to speak.

“I don't- I don't know when I got so caught up..I’m not- I-” Spencer sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He had no idea how to explain it all to her, no idea how to make her feel better.

Y/N sat there patiently with her hands in her lap, she watched Spencer's expression change, she felt her own body buzzing, waiting for an answer.

Flick.

“I needed JJ’s help. I was panicking freaking out, and I needed her help.”

Flicker.

“Why?” Y/N asked softly.

“I couldn't talk to you- you’ll understand more soon but, I have to explain something. I have to make you understand. Alright?” Spencer stopped, and he looked at her, his brown eyes were shining, staring into Y/N’s, and she nodded.

“I may have loved JJ at one point,”

Burn, burn bright.

“I may have loved her, but never, not once in my entire life, have I loved someone as much as I love you.”

I love you, burn.

“And I’ve never looked at anyone the way I look at you. Okay?”

Y/N stayed silent. Fire, deep within her body, flared, bright, hot.

“That day-” Spencer said quickly, grabbing Y/N’s hands from her lap and holding them in his, “That day in the office, I wasn't thinking about JJ, I was thinking about you. She had asked me, a question, about you, and I was thinking about you. And how much I love you. I wasn't thinking about her. I haven't thought about her like that in years.”

Y/N breathed in. She breathed out.

“Then what's been going on?” She asked, she believed him, but she still didn't understand, still couldn't grasp why any of this was happening in the first place.

“I needed JJ’s help. It's proven by research that females are much better at planning and strategy. Males tend to jump into things and be far less organized and thorough and-”

“Spencer.” Y/N cut in, even confused, she knew when Spencer was rambling off-topic.

“Right, sorry. Anyway, I needed her help. About a month ago I panicked and asked for her help, and then she was texting me, and the calling was just so you didn't hear and- the day in the office, it was... We were doing more planning.”

“Planning for what Spencer? I still don't understand.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up at the question. He smiled, and he stared at her for a moment. He looked away and laughed quietly, then looked back at Y/N who had a frown on her face.

Spencer gently moved his hand to grab her forearm and he helped her stand up.

Y/N didn't understand what was happening, all she knew was that no matter how much she breathed, the boiling fire in her chest wouldn't leave, wouldn't leave.

“Y/N… do you remember the first time I told you I loved you?” Spencer said softly.

Y/N nodded remembering very clearly, remembering the case they had been on, remembering how tense Spencer was, remembering how she told him to breathe, to just think, remembering how she reminded him of how smart he was. She remembered pointing something out, just something small, and it was like the dots in Spencer's brain had connected. She remembered how he’d marked something down quickly, remembered how he turned back to her with a breathtaking smile on his face.

She remembered how he moved forward and grasped her face, she remembered his words, his words that had made her feel a million different feelings, and almost nothing at the same time.

I love you.

She remembered every moment after, the shock on his face like he hadn't meant to say it, she remembered kissing him softly, she remembered repeating it back to him.

They hadn't stopped saying it since.

“Well, all I can remember is feeling amazed, feeling amazed that you could make me feel something I’d never felt before. I thought I knew everything, but I was wrong because I never knew how wonderful it would feel to love you. It was you, you were the one that taught me how wonderful being someones everything was, not JJ, not anyone else.”

There was a moment, a moment Y/N almost felt like the fire was gone, a moment she thought Spencer's words had blown it away.

It still wasn't enough though.

Flick, flick.

She still didn't understand completely.

“This is where I wanted to take you tonight, this was all planned, all for you,” Spencer said, leaning down and kissing her forehead.

He must have looked back at her and seen the confusion on her face because he continued. “You told me once when we had first started dating, that you loved sunsets.”

“You remember that?” Y/N answered back, surprising herself with her own voice.

Spencer chuckled softly at her, his smile reminding her of the one he had worn when he’d first said I love you. Everything he was doing was reminding her of little moments in their relationship.

She stared at his chest, her mind practically in the clouds.

“Well technically I remember everything…” he said.

Y/N looked up at him, looked up at his smile, her mind back with her body, she could feel her face contract with the muscles of her mouth.

It felt like the first time she’d smiled in days.

She shoved him back a little, softly, “Don't be a jerk.” she said, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Y/N…” she looked at his eyes. “This.” he pecked her lips, moving back far too quickly. “This is why we’re here. This is why I needed JJ's help, why we were talking about you, why I was panicking. This is why I've been so secretive.”

The fire.

He moved back. Burn.

He pulled something out of his pocket.

Y/N’s chest was flaring, her heart was beating, her head was finally, finally beginning to understand, finally beginning to know what was happening.

Her stomach was still on fire.

He kneeled down.

Too much, too much, too hot.

Flick, flick.

“Y/N.” a flare in her chest “You are,” a flare in her throat “the only person I have ever loved this much.” a flare burning up into her brain “the only person, I think, to be everything.”

Burn, baby burn.

“You are the only person to ever prove me wrong.”

A box.

A flame.

A ring.

“You are the only person who makes me forget everything,” Spencer said, he said as her chest burned, as the fire in her stomach, in her heart, in her head, as the fire flared. Spencer looked at her, he looked at her just as he always looked at her, looked at her like there was no other way he could spend the rest of his life, looked at her like he wanted to look at her forever.

She could feel her heart burn hotter and hotter.

Tears were coming out of her eyes.

She gasped.

“Y/N..”

Burn.

Bright.

“Will you marry me?”

Flick, fire, gone.

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#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds rp #criminal minds headcanons #emily prentiss x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg blurb

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dingdongitsbees · 4 years ago

Text

Gojo is a strong person | Gojo x gn!reader oneshot (Angst)

Synopsis: Gojo is the strongest, that was an agreed upon fact, or at least he thought it was until he met you.

The first time you had laid eyes upon him, you laughed.

“This is almighty Gojo Satoru, huh?”

Ao3 Link

WC: 3k Tw: canon typical violence, death Just send an ask to be added to Gojo taglist! (specify if you don’t want angst etc)

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Gojo Satoru is a strong person, that’s what everyone knew. That fact was known by every shaman that had had their first breath and by anyone that laid their eyes on him, even if only for a split moment in the bustling crowds of Tokyo. It was a fact that the man knew himself, it could hardly be called egotistical if it was simply the truth that he was the strongest, though he toed the line of cocky so much that he had fully passed its threshold far before he even attended school. But his parents and his clan and the servants that worked there never gave him anything else to think.

He was better than them by the time he had first opened his eyes. He was a man whose mere existence disrupted the world so chaotically that any possible adversary would tremble at the mere thought of facing him. Gojo Satoru is the strongest, that was an agreed upon fact, or at least he thought it was until he met you.

The first time you had laid eyes upon him, you laughed.

“This is almighty Gojo Satoru, huh?”

He was stunned. People rarely smiled at him, only when trying to please him or gain something from him, laughs and giggles became shushed when he came near. Never had he heard such a clear laugh from someone aware of his presence, let alone laughing at him.

And like you had expected his frozen form, you gave him a knowing look and a smile. “I look forward to getting to know you, Satoru.”

To say that he was enamoured by you by the moment your smile reached your crinkling eyes was an understatement.

His high school years began and never had he felt more challenged in his life. He was the strongest, that still rung true, but until then he had never felt a desire to prove it, a desire to impress. His ideals and methods were questioned and criticised, his techniques scrutinised and forced to improve and adapt. His teachers, Getou, Shoko, even the younger students like Nanami, all challenged him.

Prove to us that you are the strongest. We will not accept a statement like that at face value. Prove it.

Now get better.

But none of them came close to you. You hounded him at every open opportunity, around every corner. And oh, did he welcome it. You’d challenge him to fights, lose almost every time, but always find something he did badly or should have done that he would obsess over for the days and weeks to come. You’d think of new ways for him to apply his techniques and go further beyond anyone that had inherited Infinity, aiding him reach potentials he didn’t even think existed or that he needed. You’d come back with an argument to anything and everything you disagreed with, answers he couldn’t look past or debunk, forcing him into a state of reflection which his parents had deprived him of.

Gojo Satoru was the strongest, but he learned very quickly that he wasn’t perfect.

He continued to change; adapt to everything you threw at him. His cocky attitude stayed carved in stone, his laughs at the weak were never missed, but he looked forward in excitement. He had never had that before you. His life path was laid out perfectly for him since birth, a life he had never asked for he once said. And you had replied.

“Then why are you following it? You’re the strongest, aren’t you? Then do what you want, no one can stop you.”

He soon realised that the flutters his heart experienced as he laid down in the grass next to you, staring up at the stars, was not just his heart stuttering at the beauty of the universe. His heart imploded whenever your fingers came close to his, subtle shoulder touches from passing in the corridors, laughs at his jokes that would get you into stitches, smiles that seemed to lighten his heart and drop his stomach like a rollercoaster, and eyes that stared into his soul.

And you knew, oh by god you knew what effect you had on him. You were no fool. But oh my, was it fun.

You had feelings for him too, you weren’t that cruel, and you knew that he knew that too. But you weren’t going to jump headfirst into a boy who couldn’t differentiate between what he wanted, and what he was expected to want. Who he was, and who he was supposed to be.

One night, like many nights before, you laid on his bed together, chips and chocolates and any wrappers of sweets he had impulsively bought surrounding you two. And that night he turned to you, question hesitant on his lips.

“What do you think of me? Who do you think I am?”

You pursed your lips, tilting your head towards him, thinking of what to say but you already knew the answer the moment he asked.

“You’re Satoru,” you said, a grin taking up half your face. “You’re just Satoru.”

He would never admit it, but he cried that night, he cried hard. And he wouldn’t have to worry, because you expected this of him, of course you did, you always did, and you held him. You held him as tight as you possibly could, as tight as you could hold a lonely boy crushed by the weight of the world that he never volunteered to lift. He was Atlas, but you were next to him, helping hold the world on your shoulders, even if you were scared that it would crush your shoulders into splinters, never would you have mentioned it.

The two of you continued to dance to the song that the pair of you had been listening to for years, waiting for one to take the step forward, to dip the other into no return. Dance the dance that had been safely done with a metre in between the two of you, not wanting to step on the other’s feet, not wanting to come in before the bridge started, not wanting to get the timing of the beat drop wrong. Things caused chaos around the ballroom that you danced in, friends lost to death or to wars of morals and ideals, faith lost in elders meant to protect you but instead fetishized tradition, guidance into the adult world being left in the air. But the two of you continued to dance, getting incrementally closer to each other, breath reaching skin, fabrics tripping over each other, but never quite close enough to feel the other, always a hair width away.

And like you had expected, like you had waited patiently for, he stepped closer, bridging the gap between the two of you. A smile stayed on your lips as he pressed his mouth to yours gently, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks in greeting. Satoru had finally become him. Not the shaman that was whispered between hands, the sorcerer who elders expected great things from, not just the strongest. He was Satoru, and that was as perfect as he was ever going to be, and as perfect as you wanted him.

Years passed and not even for a moment could you be bored when existing in the same world as Gojo Satoru. Every day was something new, something to tease about the other, another sign of affection that would make the other’s heart stumble, another reason to fall even more irrevocably in love.

You stood by his side with everything he stood for, staying grounded and as a point of reference of what he wanted this world to be. The world he wanted you to be able to live in. You argued by his side when trying to revoke death wishes that were put on Itadori, giving a smile to the higher ups when he insinuated the length he would go to in order to get the world of his own design. You would be slitting throats next to him before he had the chance to ask and everyone knew it.

Your name was whispered beside his now, one couldn’t be mentioned without mentioning the other. The strongest and the tamer. The one that had incapsulated every corner of Gojo Satoru’s heart and would never leave. The one that the man would burn down the world for if it dared to insult the love of his life, and the two of you would just smile through the flames.

Good and evil is relative, but neither compares to the terrifying ordeal yet comfort of being known by someone else through and through. Every pore and freckle and hair studied by the other until they know the other’s face and soul better than they know their own.

Satoru was only ever approached when you were away on a mission. There was no chance of compromise or pushing when you were in the vicinity. You knew what he wanted, and you wouldn’t settle for anything less than. Gojo Satoru was the strongest, but you had him happily in your hands at your mercy and direction, you were the scariest.

So it was no surprise to either of you as your missions were set far away from each other and at the most inopportune times. You barely had anytime to look in his eyes let alone talk of creating the world together like gods. But if they thought that mere curses would separate the two of you, they were fooling themselves. No amount of time, nothing the other could do, would ever stop the tyrannical love you held for each other, nothing would be allowed to get in the way.

Every night the other came home, they would hold the other’s cheeks in their hands softly, letting their love’s head surrender to gravity. You wouldn’t need to say a word, and neither would he, just quietly in your world for another moment before the other would inevitably have to leave. You would figure it out, the two of you always did, you would eventually get the world you talked about in the company of the stars like you had since you were teenagers.

When you got the call of your next mission you frowned. It seemed off, a special grade that had been spotted in Osaka, nothing you hadn’t dealt with before, but the slight stutter of the caller rang alarm bells in your head. As you packed for your mission Satoru stared at you from the other side of the living room, reading you.

“How bad?” he asked, his blue eyes caressing your face gently, a book on his chest he had long abandoned to just watch you.

“Just a special grade but…” you started.

“It feels wrong?”

You nodded. Asking him to come with you was out of the question for multiple reasons, both of you worked better alone, leaving no risk of the other getting harmed by a technique, Satoru had a lot on his plate already, caring for students and attempting to research and protect his students from the special grades that had begun popping up. And well, you were capable, this was something you knew how to do and had done for years. But still, at the back of your mind, it was screaming at you to run, to take the man in front of you and just run.

But you didn’t.

Instead, the two of you swayed in your kitchen together to silent music, his arms holding you tightly, afraid you would be stolen from him. You held your ear to him, his heartbeat calming down your neurons that were lighting fires in your brain. You stayed there for a little eternity, intoxicated with the other’s touches and love, but soon you picked your bag up from the kitchen counter, and gave him a soft and slow kiss. His eyes looking down at you half-lidded, drunk on the person in front of him, euphoric he got to be called yours. He watched as you left, your eyes catching his through the closing gap, giving him that knowing look and smile you always had.

It was worse that had been described in the report, far worse. The paper was practically a list of lies. You wished you could call for back up, to call for Satoru, but there was literally no time. The moment you arrived the scene was already in chaos, people getting eaten and dismembered like playthings by not one, but three special grades.

People weren’t listening to your directions, practically running into the mouths of the curses, several lower grade ones had come as well, as if called, making everything so much harder. You were in the middle of the war zone, trying to kill lower grades that were seconds away from killing a civilian, getting people out of there and to run, and fighting the special grades that didn’t give you a moment to breathe. Adults' limbs were torn off of them as they screamed to be helped, kids' heads exploded as you held them under your arms. The special grades just laughed.

They had cut you down more times than you could count on the fingers you had left, you couldn’t differentiate the blood pouring down your body from the ones who had died around you. You had managed to kill two of the three special grades, but the other evaded everything with a wide grin, directing the other curses like an orchestra. A symphony of shattering bones and blood curdling screams filled your ears everywhere, inescapable.

A child, one that couldn’t have been older than four, ran to you, stumbling over their feet as they sobbed. The special grade geared up, charging their attack. You took a deep breath and calmly looked at the world in front of you for a moment, time slowing down. Your mouth twitched up at the ludicrousness of it all and looked to the sky you had spent a lifetime staring at.

Sorry Satoru, looks like I won’t be coming home.

You grabbed the child, and curled around it, protecting it as best as you could, and waited for impact.

There was no other answer to draw from your mission than the fact that the higher ups had sent you on a suicide mission, they knew you worked alone, they knew that there was a limit to even how much you could handle. Because after you all, you weren’t the strongest. You were the disposable one. They had sent you, but not just so you would be the one to crumble.

No. That’s all Gojo Satoru could think as he raced through the corridors, he didn’t want to believe it, he refused to believe it. There was no such timeline where you could be separated from him, it was simply not allowed. A reality that was forbidden from coming to fruition. He slammed open the doors to Shoko’s lab, teary eyes glanced up at him before looking to the ground. They surrounded a table in the middle of the floor, barring him from seeing. He just stared with wide eyes, looking insane, not a single thought that they would be able to read. But you would know, you would only have to take one look at him and you would know what he was thinking, because you would sit up and look him in the eyes with the smile that he had carved into his soul. You would, you had to.

The group parted slowly, giving him access to the metal table.

There you were, lying down in what had to be a deep slumber, eyes closed, looking as beautiful as you always did and would continue to be. You had to, you had to. He took a step closer, his hands trembling at his sides, he reached forward, touching your cold cheek, his shaking sending little waves across your skin.

Shoko stood next to him with red eyes. She reached up to touch his shoulder, but her hand froze, stopped by Infinity. Her eyes widened. He took no notice of her, not acknowledging her for even a second. Her hand curled into a fist and dropped, looking away with a wobbly breath.

He cupped his hand underneath your head, lifting you to his chest. It was a mystery of how he managed to keep you steady. Ever so slowly he picked up your whole body, walking out of the room. No one stopped him.

He refused to acknowledge what his six eyes were telling him. There was no way, no conceivable way, that you could have left him. You would never do that to him. You would never dare leave him all alone in this world, the world that hadn’t been theirs yet. There were so many things they had left to do. So many things they were meant to fix. So many more days left to love each other. So many more days where you were meant to look at him and just see him, just see Satoru. So, there was no way you left. You wouldn’t do that to him, right?

Gojo Satoru was a strong person, that’s what everyone thought. He was the strongest. But the sound that came out of him as he knelt in the dirt outside the building as his body wracked with sobs, cradling you to his chest desperately, haunted all the hearer’s waking and sleeping states. Their dreams stayed infected with it for weeks. He begged to the universe and to you, begging through screams. It was so loud. It was so excruciating. And it was so, so raw. It sounded like his vocal cords were being ripped apart, and they wouldn’t have been surprised if that came to be true.

Gojo Satoru was a strong person, that’s what everyone thought, but now they weren’t so sure.

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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redrobin-detective · 4 years ago

Text

The 101 Deaths of Danny Phantom

AO3 link

One of the first things people learned about dealing with ghosts, other than not to try and date them, is to never asks about their death or obsessions. That doesn’t mean the citizens of Amity Park aren’t curious though, especially about their resident ghostly hero and the confusing and concerning comments he sometimes makes.

“Are you okay?” Phantom asked Maisie as she shook and tried to hold back tears after that car had almost slammed into her. She sometimes joked about getting hit crossing the street of her college campus to pay her obnoxious loans but it was another thing entirely to almost experience it herself. Maisie was nearly twenty, she shouldn’t be comforted by someone younger than her little step sister but here she was, shaking like a lead and leaning into Phantom’s comforting, chilly touch.

“Sorry,” she stuttered, “thank you, I’m sorry I’m just-”

“Hey, it’s okay to be upset that was very scary. The thought of dying is very scary.” Through her adrenaline and her tears, she took in the ghost’s unnatural glow, his faded, barely visible appearance and the fact that he was floating a foot off the ground. Maisie knows this ghost, this boy, knows more than she ever could about death.

“And getting run over by a car sure is a bad way to go,” the ghost kid chuckled awkwardly, taking his cold hand off her shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck. “You should see how my dad drives or my mom or my sister if she’s running late enough,” Phantom paused in thought. “No one in my family should have a license now that I think about it. Anyway,” he dismissed with a wave.

“My sister and I were getting ready to head out to school and my dad was backing out of driveway too fast and didn’t see us and uh, luckily I got my sister out of the way in time haha,” Phantom trailed off awkwardly. Was it because of the uncomfortable conversation or because he noticed her dawning horror.

Her best friend ran the community college’s Phan club so Maisie was a member by default. Phantom’s death was sometimes talked about late at night, everything from wrongful murder to a freak accident. She never in her worst nightmares imagined being him being runover in front of his own house by parental ignorance. It was so normal, a quick mistake and a life lost.

“Oh my god,” he said with an adorable little green blush. “Why am I babbling about that? You almost got hit by a car, I’m probably retraumatizing you or something. I should probably go get the jerk who almost hit you,” he said before disappearing into thin air.

“Tia is not going to believe this,” she whispered to no one. All she knew is that for the rest of her damned life she was going to look both ways when crossing the street. She’d seen first hand what a single moment of reckless driving could cause.

XxX

Matthew, not Matt or Matty or Hughie, Matthew shivered from the cold. He was only in his boxers with little Pacman on them. It had been fine when he’d gone to bed considering it was mid-August but Phantom and this stupid flaming mecha ghost had tussled outside the summer camp he was working at. He could see some of the kids snickering at his state of undress though he was just extremely glad they were alive enough to disrespect him like this.

“Oh man, I’m sorry,” the ghost kid said with big, sad eyes that looked so human despite the fact that they were literally glowing. He looked around at all the snow and ice left over from his fight. “Jeez you guys must be freezing, I wish I could warm you all up but all I can do is make things colder.”

“S’okay,” Matthew said through his chattering teeth. “Teaching the kids how to start a fire was supposed to be next week but we can get a jump on it.” That got a smile out of the ghost and within a half hour, the other counselors were distributing blankets and hot beverages to the kids clustered around multiple fires. They didn’t seem particularly upset by the potentially fatal attack, Matthew will breakdown about that at a later time when he was alone. For now, he just smiled as the children chattered happily with the ghost while he cleaned up as much of the damage as possible.

“So you spend all day fighting ghosts?” Zoe asked with stars in her eyes.

“A lot of the nights too,” Phantom nodded, “I do other stuff but yeah it seems ghost fighting takes up most of my time.”

“Where’d you learn those cool powers?” Zuri asked, miming a punch.

“Comes with being a ghost,” Phantom shrugged, “my ice powers came in later though so I still struggle a bit with them but I’m getting better every day.”

“Why ice though?” Morris said with his cocked curiously to the side. “I see some ghosts use fire or shadows, why do you have ice?”

“Ah that’s a little personal,” Phantom chuckled but his posture was easy despite the invasive question. “Specialty powers like my ice require special circumstances and a certain uh connection to the ghost. Someone like me couldn’t use fire or electricity or plants, ice is in my soul, it’s who I am.”

Matthew paused in drinking his lukewarm coffee as a horrible thought came to mind. He’s been an outdoorsman all his life, practically from the time he could walk. He’d been a deep woods camping guide for a decade before switching to working at summer camps. But the years working in the relative comfort of a stable camp didn’t erase his knowledge of how unforgiving and deadly the woods in the winter could be. A grown man, much less a young teen, would freeze to death in 20 minutes if it was cold enough.

It made sense for ghosts to develop powers related to their deaths. Had Phantom been one of the dozens of unfortunate kids he read about every year who ran away in the middle of winter only to found later as a frozen corpse. He eyed the boy’s snow white hair and frigid aura he exuded with mournful trepidation. God, what a horrible way to die.

“I’d get chilly with ice powers,” Tabby said with a shudder, she held out her cup of cocoa. “You want some of my cocoa to warm you up?”

“No thanks,” Phantom said with a soft smile that was warm despite everything. “The cold hasn’t bothered me for a while.”

XxX

Ghost attacks may be the norm but, if there was one good thing that came out of whole mess it was the fact that violent human crimes went down drastically. So when the rare murder did happen, the shock and fear rippled through the whole town.

Stanford Newton had only been sheriff of Amity Park for eight months after the last guy had gone gray overnight and moved to Florida the next day. It was a daunting position but one he bore proudly. This wouldn’t be his first murder investigation having initially cut his teeth as a beat cop in Chicago but it would be the first in Amity. And it certainly was the first in which the dead served in an active capacity.

“Amanda Chastain, 27. Officially she was a waitress down at Spengler’s Diner but she’s been picked up for prostitution twice in the last year,” Stan said calmly, ignoring the cold, angry presence over his shoulder. “History of polysubstance abuse as well, not that either of those things mean she deserved this.” Used, beaten to death and then dumped in the trash like yesterday’s paper.

He wondered if she’d come back a ghost or if she’d finally get some peace this world hadn’t offered her. “We don’t have many leads right now, I’m afraid. Acting illegally as they are, there’s not a lot of resources these poor girls have to turn to.”

“I’ll find them,” The Phantom said with blazing conviction, his voice thick and sharp as ice. “I’ll find and bring them to justice and make sure no one else is hurt again.”

“I believe you,” Stan nodded, shutting his notebook as he finally turned to face the teenage superhero haunting his town. He can’t say he liked what he saw. The Phantom looked even less human than usual, his aura flaring and flickering like the foggy mist before a heavy snowstorm. His unnatural green eyes glowered, painting his too young face in a terrifying light.

The kid looked furious, clearly taking this death to heart. He’d read the Fenton’s memos about obsessions and such but this seemed beyond that. “But don’t hurt anyone to do it, or yourself while you’re at it.”

“I won’t, I’ll make sure they’ll face human justice and don’t worry,” Phantom gave a snarling smile. “No mortal can hurt me, not like this,” he growled causing the hairs on Stan’s arms and neck to stand on end. He flew off after that, presumably to track down Amanda’s killer.

“Not like this,” Stan mumbled to him, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his brow where a cold sweat had broken out. “Jesus Christ that poor kid.” Stan had seen plenty of murdered and mutilated bodies in his lifetime, some of them even kids. He just never got to talk to them after they’d had their life forcibly snatched away. It would explain the ghost’s near fanatical determination to save others, why he took a stranger’s murder so personally.

“I hope your own murderer is behind bars,” Stan said as he tucked his handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Or even six feet under, for killing a good kid like you.” Stan made his way back to his squad car so he could head back to the station and move forward with the official investigation. But he’d eat his hat if there wasn’t a stammering lowlife there by tomorrow ready to turn themselves in.

Maybe after all this was settled down, he’d delve into some of the cold cases stacked in the cellar. Maybe in there he’ll find a picture of a smiling, carefree teen who’d disappeared and returned with the power now to ensure no one else suffered as he had.

XxX

“Yes, I know about the Phantom,” Luis Oliveira will say to anyone who so much as brings up the ghost kid. Locals know better by now but the tourists eat it up every time. He twists his finely combed mustache and gestures to the floor where his audience is standing. “He died right there oh ten or eleven years ago.”

Luis has worked his way all across the the United States since he emigrated from Brazil in the 70s. He finally settled in Amity Park about twelve years ago. He’d never intended to stay in the small Midwest town but the fatal shooting of a young customer kept his little corner market open.

“He was a nice kid, always said hi to me and paid in exact change. Was big fan of the snacks I made, would stop by after school and take half my inventory. He had big brown eyes and a crooked nose,” Luis would smile at the memory before closing his eyes and frowning sadly. “One day, he came late. His teacher made him stay after to go over a failed test, I remember he complained. He was pulling out his money when robber burst in, demanding my money. I fumbled for the register key, dropped it. I bent down to grab it and I hear shots going off. Two over my head, another right into the boy’s throat.”

Luis will hear the sound of that sweet boy’s guttural choking sounds as he drowned in his own blood until the day he himself died. The robber left after the shot, Luis called the police and held the young man’s hand as he died. The would be thief were never found and Luis never did learn anything about the boy who’d died on his floor for getting hungry after school.

“As soon as I saw Phantom on the TV,” Luis would say, perking up after his moment of somber grief, “I knew it was that boy come back. Those kind eyes, I’d recognize them anywhere. He’s never come here but one day he will and I will be able to pass on my regret on not being able to save his life that day.”

XxX

“I think he killed himself,” Mikey whispered to Lester during lunch period, angling his voice low. “The jocks may love Phantom for his powers but I just know he was one of us, an unwanted nerd. I’ve seen him chatting up a ghost I’m pretty sure is Poindexter, Casper’s suicide kid. They’re probably bonding over their similar deaths and the circumstances that led to it.”

“That’s pretty dark,” Lester whispered back. “I also get unpopular vibes from him but I don’t think he’s the time do uh do that to himself; he’s too stubborn and protective. But I bet he was the victim of a prank gone wrong. Dash locked Fenton in the Janitor’s closet last Wednesday, he got out okay somehow but maybe something like that happened to Phantom. He always looks kind of annoyed at the A-listers, maybe they remind him of old bullies.”

“Nuh-uh,” Clara said, pushing up her glasses with her middle finger. “The ghost kid totally got electrocuted or something. He was fighting that weather ghost and he sent lightning bolts his way and Phantom flinched. He fought the Ghost King and yet a little electricity scares him? It might not’ve even been a lightning strike but something manmade like a machine backfiring or something.”

“Get real,” Mikey scoffed, sipping his milk with an eyeroll. “I’m sure we’d have heard about some poor kid getting zapped to death; this town isn’t that big.”

“We’d have heard about a suicide too,” Lester noted with a wry grin.

“Shut up Mr. I base my theories around Fenton who’s a known weirdo”.

XxX

“I’m telling you, the ghost kid died of some debilitating illness,” Abbie McMillian, retired school teacher and three year reigning champ at the Tristate area’s Daylily Competition. She sipped her tea and spoke with as much confidence as she had back in the day wrangling Amity’s impressionable youths. “The superhero thing is clear wish childhood fulfillment, a chance to live and be free like he never got to in life. You see how happy and carefree that young man looks while flying? Clearly he spent his formative years sick and weak.”

“No way,” Greta von Martin frowned as she aggressively stirred her own tea to show her displeasure. “I worked in a hospital for close to 30 years and I know what chronically sick kids look like and Phantom doesn’t fit the bill. I will agree he’s carefree when he’s not battling spooks but he acts like a stupid teen. I’m telling you, the boy got into his parent’s liquor cabinet or took a few too many of whatever pill was going around his school. Tragic but something that happens every day.”

“Greta, dearie,” Abbie said with a pinched frown. “We’ve been friends since grade school and I love you like a sister but you are wrong and until you admit it, I won’t share anymore of my recipes.”

“You’re just being stubborn because you can’t see what’s right in front of you even after working with kids half of your life, Abbie, love,” Greta sniffed. “And you can kiss my grandson’s help weeding you garden goodbye until you relent.”

XxX

Perhaps one of the most human traits is curiosity, especially about what comes after death. Now the good people of Amity Park know a great deal about the dead so the lives before is what attracts their attention and none so more than the ghost boy. Maybe it’s because he’s their hero or maybe it’s because he’s so young. Or perhaps it’s because Phantom is such a mess of contradictions that it’s very hard to guess how the unfortunate boy met his end. But everyone has their own theories, from the mundane to the fantastic, some with evidence backing them up and others pure poppycock.

But for all their curiosity, as much as it burns them to know, they’ll never ask. They don’t want to risk the powerful ghost’s wrath but, moreover, it seemed in poor taste. The boy risked his afterlife to keep them safe, they couldn’t ask what traumatic and miserable circumstances had led to this point.

And besides, it was so much more fun to look up at ghostly figure as he sped through the skies and wonder.

#danny phantom #my writing #i made a headcanon post and immeaditly said 'i have to write this'#and then I did #tw: suicide mention #there is a non described background death of an OC #opinions are like assholes #everyone has one #and *everyone* has an opinion on how phantom died #some are reasonably close and some are waaaay far off #but they wonder and gossip and argue when the kid cant hear #its human nature

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animeyanderelover · 4 years ago

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Hello😊(I love the new system you have going on🥰)Could I request Hashirama,Tobirama,Madara,Itachi,Shisui,PeinSakura with a darling with powers like Elsa? Thank you 😁

Sorry for not posting sooner, but I had a small meltdown due to having screwed up my math exams. I wasn’t even able to do half of the tasks and literally drowned myself in Latin the last few hours so I wouldn’t ruin the second test as well. So I apologize if this became bad, but I’m that 🤏 far away from reaching my limit and I am letting my frustrations and disappointment in writing out. You meant Elsa from Frozen, right?

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, paranoia, manipulation, blackmailing, kidnapping, threatening, harsh behavior

Frozen

Madara Uchiha

🌑Madara will always be obsessed with powers so having a darling who can control ice that is extremely heat-resistent, an advantage against his flames, will always attract him in some way. He can not copy the techniques of his darling due to all of them being connected to their powers. It impresses him and he constantly wants to challenge them and fight them to see how they stand against him and if they seem to be a good match for him, he will monopolize their time in constant wants of challenges.

🌑Of course initially he might be more suspicious looking at how the Yuki Clan is a clan from Kirigakure. Since he sees himself and the village as something superior, he is a bit discriminating and suspicious of them. Though that of course changes when finding out about their fearful power and wanting to have it for himself which he can’t, making him frustrated in the process. But he can keep his darling and he absolutely will do so, he’s possessive.

Hashirama Senju

🌳Different from his Uchiha friend, Hashirama welcomes his darling pretty openly and friendly in the village, seeing it as a good chance to build more trust with the land from which they come from and also making new allies with them. But next to the political reasons he of course just wants them to feel comfortable in his village and kind of looks after them at the beginning so he can help if they need something and also to make sure that no one will be mean to them for being a foreigner and due to them being in possession of something not many people have, a rare kekkai genkai.

🌳Hashirama himself is totally fascinated from your kekkai genkai, always amazed when you do some stuff with it, it might almost remind you of a small child seeing snow for the first time in real, he’s excited. This might be pleasant if you and your clan should have been treated wrongly and used as weapons due to this and if that is the case, Hashi will say a few words to the Mizukage additionally to not wanting to let you go back and risk you being treated terribly. Of course this all comes to the pleasure of his clan because if you’re female, they can await some very strong heirs.

Tobirama Senju

🌊His reasons might be more political than the ones of his brother since he most likely let someone like his darling in his village because he either wanted to ensure a stable relationship with Kirigakure or didn’t want to miss out on the chance of having a kekkai genkai like the one of his darling’s in his village, though he as well is at the beginning a bit more iffy around them. But Tobirama is also easily to impress if his darling has some interesting jutsus up their sleeves which they most definitely have given their ability to create ice and freeze things. Whilst he needs time, he might bond by talking with them about political things since their clan might already be put in great dangers due to being targeted in Kirigakure or because he wants to know more about how their kekkai genkai works.

🌊He is also someone who trains with his darling, mostly because he wants to see where they stand, though he is not that dumb to underestimate them and the more talented they are, the more he is willing to let them go on difficult missions since he has trust that they will be able to handle themselves. And similar as with Hashi, his clan makes a commotion about the future addition of a powerful person in their clan as well, just as about the possibility of children.

Pain

🌧In this case I see him actually seeking out his darling to make them a member of the Akatsuki due to needing new and powerful members after Orochimaru left. The rumors about some descendant of the Yuki clan would be what would awake his interest, having heard before that the clan shattered all over the place due to being haunted and he mostly lured them in with promises of avenging them and what happened to their clan. So at the very early beginning you’re just a pawn to him, someone who goes on dangerous missions and who has a partner.

🌧This is until he manages to fall for darling and that’s the moment freedom will be over for them and instead they’ll be greeted with the cold and chilly tower where he keeps them. Konan is busily trying to explain what just happened since it is confusing to be kidnapped by him so he can keep you safe if he was the one who wanted to have you in the organization for this in the first place. And afterwards you might not be able to use your powers as often as before because Pain doesn’t let you go on missions anymore and using them against him is not the best idea.

Shisui Uchiha

🍂Whilst not being someone who is necessarily power hungry, Shisui still is impressed with the abilities his s/o has, their abilities to freeze things being quite the opposite of his clan’s fire jutsus and the fact that there needs to be a lot of heat and warmth to melt their ice in the first place is also quite something. But Shisui is also aware that despite this power being very cool, it is also the reason you and your parents were forced to hide and live in constant fear of being exposed and having to run away.

🍂Until you arrived in the Leaf where the Third took you in until a solution was found because going back was not really an option and it is likely that Shisui is either someone who found you on your way or who found out afterwards by observing and maybe even being ordered by the Hokage to look after you a bit. Your powers might have to be kept a secret for now until everything is solved, but Shisui still trains with you, mostly because you might have never learned how to use your abilities and whilst he can’t help you either, not being able to copy them, he still wants you to be able to defend yourself in the worst case scenario.

Itachi Uchiha

🍡Here are two ways of him meeting his darling, either they’re a member of the Akatsuki as well or he met them during one of his missions. And I’m pretty sure he heard from Kisame already before the story of the famous Yūki clan who has gone hiding due to people wanting them dead, the current amount members unknown. So in the scenario of them joining the Akatsuki there is the chance the darling and Kisame might grow close due to being from the same village. And whilst Itachi is not happy that his darling joined the Akatsuki, he can’t do anything against it either since them being allowed to join in the first place must mean they’re strong. Of course he still trains a bit with them to make them a good Allrounder, but he is sane enough to know they can stand their own ground.

🍡If he meets you without you being part of the organization, he would prefer to keep you away from unnecessary danger, though being with him is already danger enough which leads in here as well to training you to make you a bit stronger. Itachi and his darling might also be able to share some rather sensitive stories since both have gone through some terrible things in life with him having been forced to kill his own clan and you having been forced to hide your whole life due to wanting to be seen dead by everyone due to your skills.

Sakura Haruno

🌸She is kind of scared because she has met someone from your clan before during her first real mission, Haku. And whilst it was not her fault, she thinks you might blame her and her teammates and sensei for it which might make you not want to spend time with them which would make her sad since she wants you to get along with those she views as her closest. Sakura also feels absolutely terrible for whatever you might had to go through and whilst she knows that the current Mizukage is not like this, a friendly woman, she still is a bit grumpy with Kirigakure.

🌸I actually see the Mizukage apologizing to you for what happened and wanting to have you back in her village which might frighten the girl since you might agree. But if you reject and prefer to stay, I can see the Mizukage still lenient enough to agree, understanding that you have a rather lovely girlfriend. Naruto might want to challenge you to see how he stands with his current powers against someone from the Yuki clan now without the help of Kurama and secretly Sakura wants the same, though she wouldn’t force you. She’s just smitten with her darling and whilst she doesn’t really care for power, there is some beautiful things her darling can do with their Kekkai genkai.

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere madara #yandere madara uchiha #yandere hashirama #yandere hashirama senju #yandere tobirama #yandere tobirama senju #yandere pain #yandere shisui #yandere shisui uchiha #yandere itachi #yandere itachi uchiha #yandere sakura #yandere sakura haruno

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years ago

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Turtle person PLEASE give us more of the gift from the force au

Anakin’s just so happy. He’s radiant, okay? This is, literally, the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Becoming freed was tainted by his Mother’s bondage, becoming a Jedi was shadowed by Qui-Gon’s death, becoming a Knight was rushed by the war, becoming a Husband was clouded by secrets, but this? Becoming a father? A miracle not even the Council could deny was willed by the force? Nothing can ruin this, not the vindicating bafflement of Vokare Che and Kix, not the food cravings that Ahsoka and Obi-Wan scrambled to oblige, not the aches that Padme lovingly massaged away, not the pressures of the battlefield that Rex fretted needlessly over.

Everyone else is...someone less radiant, but mostly just by comparison.

The 501st are 110% behind their General, who, to their relief, has gotten at least slightly more cautious with himself on the battlefield. He’s also started projecting mood swings. It was slightly unnerving at first, but honestly morale skyrocketed after the last sobbing puppy pile where veterans and shinies alike couldn’t help but weep over the beauty of life. In any case, anything that can get a Jedi to wear more armor instead of less is great. They were a little uncertain about the future immediately before and after decanting, but General Skywalker has assured them that he wouldn’t abandon them, returning after paternity leave. There was a grim set to his jaw as he assured them that he would be ending the war as soon as soon as possible.

It was hard not to believe him.

Padme is excited too, if even more worried about long missions and brutal fights than she was before. Fortunately he acquiesced to her requests to take better care of himself, accepting the reduced mission-load with only minor grumbling. Not that she needed it, but a simple blood test confirmed that she was, in fact, biologically the baby’s other parent. There was some muttering on the Council about attachment but eventually the council admitted that, ah, fraternization wasn’t forbidden, and there’s not exactly a way to prevent pregnancy when it’s medically impossible anyway. The force willed it. Padme felt a little guilty about the pained expression Master Windu got on his face over the repeated use of that phrase.

Obi-Wan is fine. He’s doing fine. This is fine. Great, even! Why wouldn’t it be fine? Why do people keep asking him that? It’s not as though, for a literal decade, he had desperately and obsessively attempted to prepare for every possible form of trouble his over-powered, deeply-emotional, and tirelessly-fiery padawan could get into. Ha, imagine if, in a fit of insanity, he had stayed awake late the night of Anakin’s 13th birthday meticulously transcribing every possible applicable form of teenage rebellion documented in ancient tomes and hyperweb parenting forms! Haha! How absurd would it be if at 4am barely 7 years ago he had clung desperately to the thought that at least he can’t get pregnant at least he can’t get pregnant like a pool noodle in a hurricane, even as he added ‘safe-sex talk’ to his growing list of must do’s! Imagine if, when bailing his padawan out of jail (number 105 on list of teenage rebellion), or dragging him from a ill-picked fight (number 49) or pulling him out of a flaming speeder (number 77) or holding back his braid while puking up a night’s drinking (number 7), he had repeated like a mantra the list of trouble that Anakin, physically couldn’t get in! He might have inadvertently pissed of a drug trafficking ring (number 219), but he couldn’t get mange! His padawan might might be inexplicably naked and panicked in another royal palace (number 344) but his skin sheds would never get moldy! And he might have modified the toaster into a flamethrower (number ???) but at least he would never end up pregnant! Obi-Wan is definitely fine with the force deciding it wants grandchildren now, leading to his 20 year old padawan, no knight, they knighted him so he could be a General faster Anakin waddling his way into active warzones. Obi-Wan’s fine. Obi-Wan’s especially fine when Anakin bluntly states his intention to raise the child himself, not leave him to the creche, with Padme’s help, of course. Obi-Wan is absolutely fine when Anakin breaks down crying immediately after the declaration, not stopping until Obi-Wan desperately assures him that he’ll help, of course he’ll help, he’s honored to be the godfather, please calm down, he’ll help with the baby, whatever Anakin wants, does Anakin want more frozen beetles? He’s extra, definitely fine when Anakin excitedly informs him at 7 months pregnant that it’s actually twins.

#star wars #ask #gift from the force au #star wars au #wrinklecat #i love being named turtle person #my au #star wars au no 37

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talkfantasytome · 4 years ago

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Should I Text Your Boyfriend?

Nessian Month Prompt: Jealousy

Nesta's meeting Cassian at the tattoo parlor when she sees him hugging a woman she doesn't know.

Word Count: 1,629

Decided to create another one-shot in the Velaris Tattoo Parlor AU for Nessian Month! And if anyone would like to send me prompts for any characters/ships within this AU, just shoot me an ask! Would love to do more with these two and the others.

You can read this new one-shot below, or on AO3.

And if you're interested in the other two stories, you can find the full collection here. They're not necessary for the purposes of this fic, but they can provide a far more... detailed background. 😉

Nesta was frozen in place.

Completely and utterly frozen.

It didn't matter that she was in the middle of the sidewalk, that she was definitely blocking people and forcing them to step around her. She didn't notice the stares and dirty looks she got.

Not as she watched Cassian smile down at some petite, dark haired woman and give her a tight hug. Not as she felt her heart start to beat as loud as a drum, reverberating through her entire body.

It had been about two months since Nesta got her tattoo and met this god-like man. Two months of trying to pretend she wasn't obsessed.

His body was a work of art, only made more beautiful by the whorls tattooed across his chest and down his arms. His face was devastating and looking into his eyes was like being truly seen for the first time; seen and desired. She'd never felt more beautiful, more cared for, more wanted from just a look as she did every time Cassian glanced her way. But that barely began to cover the true depths of him and how he made her feel. The beauty that lay beneath his perfect skin.

Over the past two months they'd gotten to know each other and she spent far too many nights out with him or wrapped up in his arms. She couldn't bring herself to regret it, though. Couldn't bring herself to be annoyed at how he'd become a fixture in her life so quickly - he'd take her grocery shopping and then use those ingredients to cook her dinner, he'd sit on her tiny couch working on designs as she planned out her next novel, he'd go with her to different literary events and drag her to small festivals the town would hold on the weekends. Hell, she'd even brought him to a showing of her sister's art, not to mention all the times she'd met and hung out with his housemates.

They hadn't discussed it yet, but it sure felt like a relationship. And Nesta had thought, even without the conversation, that he felt the same way.

After a moment she managed to compose herself and pivot quickly, rushing back to her car before she could be spotted staring at the couple as they pulled apart from their hug just outside the tattoo parlor.

Still feeling the pounding inside, she sat there and breathed deeply. She was supposed to meet Cassian at the parlor, something about him wanting to talk to her before they headed to dinner. A big, important dinner. Cassian's other best friend and brother was coming home after some long business trip and they wanted to welcome him properly.

She'd been so excited, so touched that he would invite her to that. That he would want his brother to meet her almost as soon as possible.

But now…now she felt the first tendrils of rage start do dance within her, unsure if it was toward the girl, toward Cassian, or toward the general situation. All she knew was that the drum beat had become a war march within her. Cassian was hers.

Stepping back out of the car, she made her way toward the parlor with a renewed purpose, seeing Cassian still standing on the street with the girl, the two seemingly back in conversation.

Nesta walked right up to them, not faltering for a moment, and when Cassian saw her he smiled brightly. It only fueled the flame within and, based on the way his face fell, he could see that in her.

"Nesta. Wha-"

She cut him off as soon as she reached him, pulling his face down to crash her lips to his and give him something far beyond a hello kiss. Nesta could feel the shock in Cassian's lips, but it didn't stop him from opening as she licked his bottom lip. Didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around her waist and deepening the kiss. She let him as she used her tongue and lips to claim him thoroughly before pulling away and leaving him struck dumb.

She turned to the little bitch, a knowing smirk resting on the woman's light brown face, her near-silver eyes lit with amusement.

In as cordial a voice as Nesta could muster, she offered a, "Hello. I'm Nesta." She then stuck out her hand as she tried to pretend she couldn't hear how fake she sounded.

The girl took her hand and shook. "Amren."

Well shit.

This is Amren?

Nesta cursed herself. She'd heard of Amren, of course. One of Cassian's friends, met through the brother - Rhys - that Nesta was meeting tonight. Cassian had been trying to introduce the two since they got together, believing Amren would love Nesta and vice versa.

"Nice to meet you." Nesta's voice was suddenly lower and far less sure as she practically stumbled over the words.

"Likewise," Amren offered with a feral grin. "I'll leave you two to…whatever you're going to do. See you at dinner." With a wink at Nesta and a wave she got into a sleek, black convertible and pulled away.

Cassian and Nesta stood there awkwardly for a moment, both in shock for their own reasons. Eventually Nesta managed to move, going across the sidewalk and starting up the steps toward the tattoo parlor, Cassian right behind her.

"So…want to tell me what that was about?" Cassian asked, finally breaking the silence once he shut the door to the parlor and locked it.

Nesta looked around, thanking the gods that Mor seemed to have gone home already. Likely over an hour ago so she could take the time to get ready 'properly', as she would say.

"Not particularly," Nesta responded, gluing her eyes to the wall of pictures of their work.

"No? So you won't tell my why you practically mauled me in greeting? In front of my friend?" he said, a hint of a chuckle in his voice as he stepped closer to her.

"Nope." She popped the p with her lips, still avoiding looking at him.

"Nesta," he all but sang as he moved to stand in front of her, forcing her eyes to his as a smirk grew on his face. "Were you jealous?"

"No!" she exclaimed too quickly, her voice raising an octave as she did. "I was not jealous."

His smirk turned into a full on grin at that response. "You were. You were totally jealous!" Cassian looked like a kid who'd just gotten some insane conspiracy theory right, and damn her if she didn't love the sight, even as she hated the reasoning.

"I wasn't jealous," she argued. "I was…nervous."

"Nervous?"

"Yes. And excuse me if I got a little nervous seeing my boyfriend looking rather close with some other girl." Fuck.

Nesta stiffened, her eyes widening at what she realized just slipped out of her mouth.

"I'm sorry, your what?" Cassian asked, his mouth slightly open but the edges still curved upward.

Nesta didn't respond beyond her eyes blinking up at him as blood seemed to drain from every extremity. Her hands grew cold and clammy, her face paling beneath his stare even as that smile returned to Cassian's face.

"Tell me more about this boyfriend," he taunted, mischief dancing in his eyes.

At that look Nesta felt herself lighten up, loosen, and she was able to bring her hand up to slap him on the bicep. "Shut up. It slipped."

Cassian chose to ignore her comments as his face only seemed to become brighter with amusement. "Is he handsome? Strong? Could I take him?"

"Not if you don't deflate that head of yours," she snapped, glaring up at him even as he stepped closer until they were sharing breath.

"I should probably text your boyfriend." Cassian lowered his voice, the tone turning guttural as he lifted a hand and brushed it through her hair, tangling his fingers within the strands. "Let him know all the things I'm about to do to you."

"If I let you," Nesta countered, though the words didn't hold much bite. Not as a tingling warmth spread through her from where his hand rested.

Cassian leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Or maybe I'll just text Amren. Apologize for the PDA and tell her how my girlfriend, silly as she can be, got a bit jealous."

Nesta inhaled sharply at the words, at hearing him call her his girlfriend. Her hands grabbed the top of his shirt and she pulled him down, kissing him deeply as a new sensation flooded her body. A warm exhilaration spread through her, her heart beating to an upbeat melody.

Cassian pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead on hers as they panted in harmony to each other. "I can't believe you beat me to it," he chuckled, looking straight into her blue-grey eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked in a breathy whisper.

He kissed her softly. "That was exactly what I wanted to talk to you about before the dinner."

Nesta laughed with him and then pushed herself onto her toes, bringing her lips to his briefly. "About that dinner," she started slowly. "How on time to we have to be?"

Cassian beamed down at her and then captured her lips in his again before lifting her up and bringing her to one of the tattoo tables. "It's not until seven. I wanted to make sure we had plenty of time alone," he answered as he lay her down on the flat surface, bringing his own body over hers and kissing her again.

They still managed to miss cocktails…and appetizers. But Nesta and Cassian got there in time to order entrees with the group, and then agreed Cassian would never be in charge of timing again.

#nessianmonth #nessian modern au #nessian jealousy #nessian tattoo au #nessian fic #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #jealousy #acotar fanfic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #fanfic #nesta x cassian

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whateverthedragonswant · 3 years ago

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I cannot stop rewatching the shooting scene and the phenomenal way it was shot and acted and all of it. I'm obsessed.

And then I noticed something interesting I had never thought about before (tw: I do talk about the mechanics or logistics I guess you can call it of the shooting):

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I know Eddie was an open target. I hate to say it but it's true. He was the easiest to hit for a well-trained sniper (which if you think about it, thank God Ethan struggled and did not actually seek out to kill the firefighters, Eddie's heart was right there, I don't even like imagining it).

But what kept puzzling me is why he aimed for Buck next (other than cinematic reasons). Tbf, the firefighters had all scrambled to take cover, Eddie was down, but Buck was in civilian clothing. No matter how open of a target Buck is, frozen in his shock, it makes no sense. If the sniper had gotten there only a few minutes before and set up, while he was waiting for the firefighters to make a reappearance from Sheila's building, it doesn't make sense that Buck would be shot. Talking to Eddie and the others didn't confirm Buck was a firefighter, just that he knew them. For all Ethan knew, he could have been Sheila's boyfriend or brother or friend, or Charlie's father.

And then it hit me.

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1:25 - Buck and Eddie driving in Bobby's truck

Mehta: "Buckley, you get promoted to Captain when I wasn't looking?"

Buckley: "Only vehicle available."

Mehta: "Diaz, you call this in?"

Eddie: "Yeah, possible OD."

That is why the sniper was aiming for Buck. That is why Eddie was shot first (besides being an open target). Ethan was already there. He had already heard the call on the radio and had set up (or was in the middle of setting up) when Buck, Eddie, and the 133 arrived. He saw Buck and Eddie jump out of that truck. Not Mehta or any of the other firefighters. And while it was a Battalion 7 truck they were in, I'm not sure if he would know that that was a 118 truck or even a separate firehouse nor do I think he cared tbh. Mehta appeared on scene with the fire engine and the "Captain", the guy in the civilian clothes and talking to the other firefighters, watching as they did their jobs, and who was driving the Cap's truck was seen as Captain. It's no coincidence that they had Mehta teasing Buck about the truck (or that that was the only vehicle he and Eddie could take) or that the 133 had to respond since the 118 fire engine and ambulance were already out on a call, that Eddie and Buck were early for their shift and Bobby was delayed by the argument with Athena.

Nor is it a coincidence that Bobby is the one that later gets shot. (tbf I have no idea what the rank of the other firefighter is who got shot in the episode) That Ethan wanted him to call in more firefighters which Bobby refused.

And Ethan waited until he saw the helmet before shooting Bobby (he saw it while Bobby was looking around):

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This guy was very methodical, very smart. He knew SWAT would have a hard time storming in due to the building being engulfed in flames and having a hostage. He knew if Bobby called in other firefighters they would come in, equipped to move around the fire as best as they could. He kept his back to the window where the best sniper positions would be, covered by the mannequins, so they couldn't get a decent shot. Even the shootings themselves were methodical: Eddie's shoulder, the lady firefighter's leg, and Bobby's side. All not intent to kill shots. And only one firefighter each time that he shot. He could have easily aimed in other areas and shot more firefighters at both the Charlie scene and the car accident scene if he wanted to. Even the beginning of the Charlie emergency scene you see that he had other targets he could have easily attacked (if he was fully set up at this point):

At the end of the scene, right before Eddie gets shot, Ethan also had other targets. Even after Eddie gets shot, again, more open targets as they scramble for cover (which the director makes sure to show us with the sniper scope angles as well as the camera):

Ethan most likely saw Eddie moving through his scope (in 4x14 when Eddie turns onto his back) but he wasn't intending to kill so Eddie doesn't get shot again. He could have shot at them any time as they struggled to get Eddie into the truck. He could have shot the engine of the fire ladder (depending on the caliber) or at the tires preventing their escape (or at least hindering it). He could have opened fire on the ambulance once Charlie was loaded in or on Sheila's. Because those paramedics are firefighters, too. He did neither. He was disgruntled and went after the captain(s). Because they're the representative to him of why his partner suffered the way he did. (partners, btw, very interesting...)

But no, he went straight for Eddie and then straight for Buck. And it makes sense especially when we see Athena looking at the charred out Captain's truck when arriving on scene and the director makes sure to show us that. The order of where the bullets land in the shooting scene go like this after Eddie is shot: the grill of the fire engine after Mehta knocks Buck down (based on the direction of this bullet and where it strikes, he was still aiming for Buck), Cap's truck, the fuel under the truck (which ignites the fire), the window of the door Buck and Eddie just went through on the fire engine even though Mehta and another firefighter had been exposed as Buck lifted Eddie into the truck), and the windshield where Mehta just took the Captain's seat. It was all about the "captain".

And though Athena says Ethan would have had to speed to the emergencies as he heard them come over the radio, that he wouldn't have had time to set up, I'm pretty sure she and the detective are at the site of the car accident shooting. And she also makes sure to mention "How good of a shot do we think he is?" Granted it's for logistics but it all comes into play. He's actually a very good shot but like he tells Bobby "Try having to take them" when talking about lives.

So why am I mentioning all of this? Well besides this little facet right here absolutely blowing my goddamn mind that yes, it really is that deep fam (Tim, I just want to shake your hand and the writers' hands or elbow bump you all or something because holy shit, how do you guys come up with all of this consistently??? WOW) but also this is another subtle parallel for Buck and Eddie. Not only was the setup for them for that moment for reasons but also it's a parallel to this 2x18 scene (you know, that one):

Buck got hurt because he was in the truck (sitting in the Captain's seat mind you) when the explosion happened. Freddie was disgruntled and thought Bobby would be in the truck. He was rigged with the dead man's trigger in order to finish the job when he came face to face with Bobby. Buck wasn't in civilian clothes but neither was Eddie in 4x14. And while Bobby didn't know Ethan and the latter's being disgruntled was with firefighters in general, the LAPD were the ones who punished his partner and got rid of him, something that wouldn't have happened (in Ethan's mind) if the LAFD didn't save the suspect from that case time and time again. So while Ethan doesn't know Athena personally either (just like Buck didn't know Freddie), he's pissed at both organizations, but moreso the LAFD in that moment. Freddie's dad was punished by the justice system, the LAPD, and Bobby for setting fire to his restaurant and got rid of him from Freddie's family (in Freddie's mind).

And then you also have Eddie being on scene here (both episodes being season finales btw, just throwing that in there), waiting to be able to rush in to help Buck along with the 118:

Even Bobby and Athena are slightly paralleled here, in a way. In 2x18, Bobby tells Athena he loves her before hurrying into the scene to talk to Freddie. Athena goes in to save Bobby in 4x14, using firefighter gear. Bobby neutralized Freddie after Athena brings Freddie's mom to the scene as a distraction; Athena neutralized Ethan after distracting him with her arrival in turnout gear. You also have Chim acting as Captain in Bobby's absence in both scenes. Freaking parallels.

And had Eddie not been in that B7 truck when arriving on scene in 4x13, I'm willing to bet he would not have been shot. Ethan wouldn't have thought twice about him. Sadly, Buck would have been. Had it happened to Buck instead, it would have just been a recycled story line (with Buck and Eddie's dynamics having been changed from season 2) and he would have had the shittiest luck in the 911 universe with everything that's already happened to him physically without this related event. But no, this time, it was Eddie. And they chose to have his opposite shoulder be the target (from his shoulder wound in Afghanistan). It's all connected.

And I just can't stop feeling things now having seen this. I literally cannot stop the goddamn feels. Tim, you absolute madman, you. Season 5 is going to be insane, I just know it.

#buddie #buck x eddie #911 fox #tim you're making me gnaw on broken glass #i hope you're happy #don't stop doing what you're doing tho #loving it #buddie parallels #tw: shooting #911 4x13 #911 4x14 #buddie meta #911posts

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