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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year ago

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A Long Way Down: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (3) Following Loki's indecent proposal, you get yourself into a treacherous situation. Or maybe two. Warnings: Minors DNI. Smut references. Ex-Loki. Mild peril. Mild angst. Pining. Oh god, the pining. (w/c 4.6k) Recommended Folklore Track: This Is Me Trying

At around five AM, you had accepted that two hours was the maximum amount of sleep that fate had intended for you that night.

The sight of Loki draped across your doorway greeted you every time you closed your eyes.

The moon-slicked skin which begged to be grasped so tightly it bruised, if only for a short time. Those sharp angles in his jawline which fitted so perfectly between your legs. No.

Slipping out of bed, you manoeuvred on your clothes. Natasha would be proud, you thought, grabbing your gloves. Sufficiently bundled, you began the descent down the murky darkness. Of ten stairs, miraculously only four creaked. You paused after every one, listening for a stir from one of the bedrooms. But none came. Since you had slammed the door on Loki, your mind had been a beehive. You had lain there, trying not to move, trying to sleep, trying to think about anything but him. But his velvet voiced temptations and audacity wound around your thoughts like the cottage’s ivy. Wilting like a woman ravaged by thirst with a river rushing on the other side of that traitorous wall.

You hastily scribbled a note in the kitchen, grabbed the spare key and a small rucksack from the hallway hooks. Crisp cold hit like a slap as you opened the door and slipped through. The latch clicked closed.

It sounded like freedom.

A wide circle from the flashlight led your way, noting familiar moss-covered fenceposts and scattered stone path. You took a right at the boundary, seeing the milky promise of a red sunrise ghosting over the mountain. It would be a three hour round-trip to the top of Blencathra, you reckoned. Back in time for breakfast. As you walked, weak sunlight began to crawl the hedgerows. Frosted orange leaves underfoot became wetter. Like cornflakes, you mused, left too long in milk.

You’d had the same observation last autumn when Loki had walked beside you through Central Park, his gloved hand in yours. He’d interrupted with a familiar elaborate description of the palatial breakfasts he’d been served on Asgard. One you’d heard a hundred times before. ‘Every day, mountains of succulent fruit from the god-tree; warm date loaves and bread so glossy it reflected the very sun-” ‘-with the almond glaze.’ you’d muttered knowingly, the implication clear. His grin had widened obliviously.

‘With the almond glaze. Much superior to the cereals so favoured in this realm. I don’t know why humanity puts up with such trash, no wonder you’re all so...someone should do something.’

Loki was a lot of things. He was wild, and powerful; passionate and imposing. He was fiercely loving with kindness that ran as a hot spring runs beneath unforgiving glaciers. When he wanted it to.

His adoration was intoxicating, addicting in a way you had never experienced. When he saw you, he saw only you. Like no other creature existed. The haze had filled you like opium, drunk to all the condescending commentary that chipped at the exterior until it cracked.

And when it cracked, it shattered.

Memories of his dark curls sprawled across your pillow haunted you, the feel of silken strands cutting into your fingertip as you twirled it. He had never been good at keeping to his side of the bed. The words that he whispered when the world wasn’t watching, meant only for you. It seemed like a dream now. And maybe it was.

Perhaps it always had been.

The warmth in his eyes as his thumb caressed your jawline still smouldered as hopeful embers in the depths of your heart. They longed for him, biding their time like jackals in shadows to drag you back to his arms.

And wanting him, that hadn’t left. You doubted it ever would. Loving Loki was a high. And it was a long way down.

If only he could just act like a normal human being, you thought as you drew the wind-breaker further up your throat. And there, you laughed bitterly to yourself in the eerie quiet, is the problem.

It wasn’t his fault, not really. Or was it? You could never tell. And that doubt ate away at you like mice at the skirting boards.

The cold distance between you had been necessary. Self-preservation. And besides occasionally missing the mischief you created together, you doubted he thought of you much at all. The world was full of fawning mortals, after all. He never tired of pointing that out. You certainly doubted he lacked for company.

The thought made you feel queasy. ‘Love’, he’d once mused, ‘is different for a god. We don’t love as you humans do.’

He had paused, snapping his book closed as you lay in his lap before planting a placatory kiss on your nose.

‘You wouldn’t understand’, he’d murmured. And despite your coaxing, that had been the end of it.

It was for the best. That’s what you told yourself when that twisting heartache reared in the dead of night.

But still, you wished you’d had one last kiss, even if you’d known that’s what it was. You looked up at the moon, peeling from the sky and disappearing beneath early-morning mist as you walked briskly towards the mountain’s craggy steep. One last kiss before the lights went out.

As soon as the regrettable words had left Loki’s lips, he knew he’d fucked up. The door-slam was loud. Very loud. And he couldn’t go back to his room, not in his condition. Especially under the circumstances. In the darkness he had picked his way downstairs, cat-like, and had an angry wank in the bathroom. It was perfunctory and mostly silent. And Loki cursed his blasted impatience with every rough tug of his hand. Feeling raw, but more clear-headed, he sat in the living room a while. Moonlight threw a milky hue against the furniture. The carpet almost looked clean under its forgiving sheen. It may have been mice, but he was sure that he could hear the hushed, girlish chatter of his brother and Rogers upstairs, their theories abounding. With growing horror, Loki realised that his brother had been right about not one, but two things that night.

First, that the demise of you and he’s relationship was indeed his doing. The look in your eyes as he presented himself like a charmless commoner had made that abundantly clear. And secondly, the repugnant reclining chair on which he sat was indeed, very comfortable. Thankful at least for the latter, Loki fished down the side for a blanket he’d seen earlier. He sniffed it suspiciously, before throwing it to drape down over his feet. Something about the ragged, scratchy edging made him feel closer to you. Penitent, almost.

Shall I wear sackcloth and ashes, would that suffice?

The thought came intrusively, but behind his subconscious theatrics, there was a morsel of truth. There was something about this place. And there was something about you in it. Perhaps there was something about him too. Something new being birthed, clawing for freedom against scar tissue of old wounds. His brother’s voice played in his mind. ‘Well that could mean all manner of things, brother.’ he’d said. ‘You are insufferable.’ The god closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Perhaps, he thought, I should be thankful for that too. It meant he may be able to fix it. Loki slept soundly in the ugly chair. So soundly, that he didn’t hear the creak of footsteps that came before the first shards of daybreak, nor the soft close of a drawer, nor the click of the latch as you slipped outside into the dark morning alone.

You felt upwards, pads of your fingertips scratching against rough, uneven stone. Searching. The ridge was steeper than you’d anticipated. And you’d been so distracted by winning the imaginary shouting-match going on in your brain, that you had made the most basic error a climber could make. And the most serious.

Your fingers grasped around a jut of rock, feet slipping. Pressing your back against the opposite rockface, you glanced upwards to a large overhang on the ridge that somehow you hadn’t spotted. A chill sliced through your belly as you realised there was no way up. And there was no way down. Your boot slipped against the ledge, making you brace. Fuck fuck fuck. Even Steve wouldn’t make that drop without a couple of broken legs. Or worse. You were stuck. No, not stuck. Fucking crag-fast.

Tears welled in your eyes, a giggle of panicked disbelief threatening low in your middle as you tilted your chin to the sky. The ridge was cut into the mountain, and beyond the overhang, heavy dark clouds were gathering at alarming speed. No one knew you were here. You were fucked.

Closing your eyes, you focused on steadying your heart-rate. ‘Breathe, love’ Loki used to whisper as he stroked your hair. The beat of your heart slowed to a faint thump. The distress widget. Your eyes flew open. Steve had insisted that everyone have an alarm built into their belt, to be worn at all times. It didn’t seem so silly now.

Tentatively, you removed one hand from the rough ridge-face, the crumbling stones beneath your feet making it fly back immediately. You could feel the alarm at the base of your spine, no bigger than a jeans button. If you could just...press it.

Slowly, you began to wiggle your hips back and forth; trying to catch it on something. It caught, a low beep making your heart soar. “ACTIVATE,” you yelled. More stone pellets fell like dried rice. You could only pray Steve had the receiver nearby.

Time passed as a crawl. The sun had risen but somehow, it was still dark. Everything ached. Had it be three minutes or three hours? You were sure the pain in your limbs would be the same either way. How could I be so fucking stupid, you raged silently. At some point, you’d begun to cry.

Had you actually pressed the distress button? Fear fluttered in your stomach. Despite the chill and growing winds, you could feel a uncomfortable damp gathering beneath your clothes. Steve was going to be so pissed when he turned up. If he turned up. More crumbles of rock scattered around your forehead from above. It was followed by a low chuckle. “I can think of easier ways to get me alone, Agent.” Your neck snapped up, not believing your eyes.

Loki sat casually on his haunches atop the overhang, wrists falling between his knees. His thighs were spread, emerald leather looking viscerally luscious against the darkening sky. Dark hair whipped around his brow, his eyes flashing downward as a smile twisted one side of his mouth. “I’m stuck,” you whimpered.

Loki’s smile grew. He tutted. “Not just stuck, Agent. Crag-fast, I believe is the term.” You released an exasperated sigh. “Does it matter?” “Well it was right in Rogers briefing pamphlet. In the hazards section, nestled between blue-green algae and wayward tourists.”

You stared at him, thinking violent thoughts.

“Are you wearing your armour?” you spat. “Your not supposed to be...Loki, just-” Your feet slipped again.

“-for your rescue Madam? Only full regalia will do.” The dazzling smile which accompanied his words made you want to punch him in the face.

“Just fucking get me out of here!”

Loki’s face changed, the mirth in his eyes melting to something akin to concern. “Alright, alright…I am simply attempting to lighten the mood-” he muttered, reaching down. His arm glinted gold, its normal brilliance dulled by the shrouded sun. With all the strength you had, you reached up. You could feel your feet give out below you just as Loki’s hand wrapped around your bicep. With one fell swoop he heaved you upwards, suspended in the air before you fell upon him.

Loki rolled back, gathering you close to his chest. His palm cupped the back of your skull, the other hand safely pressed to the base of your back. You were vaguely aware of the scrape of his boots against the rock as he drew up his legs, the perfect cage of your protection.

“You’re safe now,” he breathed quietly to the sky. His heart was thundering, thuds pulsing through his breastplate. You nodded, silent sobs thrumming your body just as the first drops of rain began to fall.

Thirty minutes later, you and Loki had finally descended the ridge. He had managed to source an easier path with only the most necessary of communication. It had been slow, an ever-present pang in your ankle making you wince when the god’s back was turned. Confident that all your concentration was no longer needed, you decided to ask the question. “Why did you come?” As soon as the words left your mouth, you grimaced. How could you think about them for so long, yet still find the wrong ones? Loki glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m grateful you did-” you grovelled. “I mean, Steve made such a big deal about the whole belt button thing I just wondered why he sent you? Didn’t think he’d miss the chance to give me a lecture the whole way home.” You stared at the back of Loki’s head, swallowing. Rain was falling harder now, rustling patter crinkling against your jacket. “Rogers didn’t send me,” the god said coldly, still walking forwards. “I suspect he’s still tucked up under those abysmally threaded bedsheets.”

You hobbled faster, catching up to him. “What do you mean?” “I was downstairs. The receiver was in the kitchen.” You let your eyes wander over the sprawling landscape. Thirlmere lake lay flat in the distance, a grey mirror to the sky. “Why was it in the kitchen?” you mused absent-mindedly. “Well I don’t know, Agent” Loki spat. “Perhaps Rogers wasn’t anticipating a member of our party sneaking out before dawn on a misguided attempt at independence.” “And what’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped, stare burning into Loki’s profile as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Nothing. It means nothing.” he muttered. His eyes scanned the horizon. It was a long way down. “Don’t be like that-” “Like what, Agent?” Loki fumed, spinning with a flourish which made the cut of his leathers swirl around his ankles.

The clouds crushing the sky were matched only by the ones gathering in his eyes, both menacingly beautiful in the rawness of their power.

“Rush to your side at the break of day, in an unknown land to a hastily deduced location only to be met with suspicion and incredulity that I would ever think to aid your distress unless under duress? Am I truly so irredeemable?” You felt the hair on your arms stand up, hackles raised. “Well I wouldn’t have needed to get away for a while if you hadn’t been such a presumptive arsehole last night,” “Oh – I see,” Loki said, nodding sarcastically as his hands flew up. “Of course. My fault, as usual.”

He spun away, walking ahead. “Keep up” he bristled loudly. You muttered curses under your breath. The pain was getting worse. Looking up, you were met with Loki’s icy glare over his shoulder. “What is it?” he snapped, trying to remain indifferent. But his eyebrows always gave him away. “I twisted my ankle or something on the ridge,” you sighed.

Loki rolled his eyes. “See – there!” you whined, gesturing. “Right there. Why do you need to roll your eyes at that?”

He stiffened, hands moving to his hips. “Will you allow me to carry you?” he drawled, evading the question. “No I can make it, it’s not that far” you lied. Loki nodded, circling back towards you. “At least take my arm,” he sniffed, offering it forth. And with a reluctant sigh, you took it.

“You need to change your clothes, Loki.” You looked up, meeting the indignant glare you knew would be waiting. “You said it yourself. Hazards: wayward tourists. When Steve finds out about me, he’ll be pissed. If he finds out about you rumbling us, he’ll be catatonic.” Loki released a ragged exhale. “Fine,” he griped. In a blinding flash, luxe emerald battle leathers transformed to the thoroughly beige ensemble from yesterday. “Better?” he smarmed, the sarcasm palpable. “Meh,” you replied. A knowing smirk was exchanged. It warmed the air between you.

“So listen,” you said tentatively, hobbling at his side. “Earlier, you said something about being irredeemable-” “-yes,” Loki cut. You felt his shoulders roll, his demeanour hardening again. “I’m trying to be...trying to, adapt myself. It’s a work in progress. So far it is proving...arduous. Last night was evidence of that.” “Oh. Well...I just meant that you're not irredeemable. We weren’t right together, I know that. You can’t help being a god and a prince and all the eh...attributes, that come from that, and it was wrong of me to...expect you to change? I don’t know.” The two of you picked your way over the uneven track in silence, heart sinking into your stomach before Loki cleared his throat.

“As I understand it, the habits of a lifetime are hard to break even for mortals,” he said, swirling his wrist with a flourish. “Imagine then, what it is like for me.” You threw him an incredulous stare. He frowned. “I understand that my explanation lends weight to your inaugural grievance but you cannot deny the logic” he muttered bitterly.

You licked your bottom lip, heart thumping as you eased the can of worms open. “So what you’re saying is that you agree with...the things I said you were?”

Your heart ached at the memory of the indifference in his eyes as you left him that day. ‘Haughty. Condescending. Unwaveringly arrogant.’

You had been so angry. So angry at his unwillingness to change. To be open to the possibility of change, after everything you had been through together. All the love, so-called, that you had shared. It wasn’t enough – how could you have thought it would be? And he had just sat, crossed-legged on the sofa as you bubbled over the brim. ‘Are we done here?’ he’d said coldly, like concluding a business transaction. In the end, you’d conceded, that the person you were most enraged at was yourself. Loki frowned deeper, staring ahead. You wondered if he was revisiting the same memory. Like loitering at the crevice of a haunted cellar, peering in. His fingers wrapped around yours, still gripping his forearm.

“Well, yes” he replied cautiously. “But I was never expected to be anything else. There was no need – I thought it was just...me. That it was inevitable. It’s all I’ve known.” You opened your mouth and closed it again. “Consider the leaves,” Loki said with a wave of his hand to the multi-coloured foliage littering the skyline. “Those over there...retain their summer green.” He pointed further down the ridge.

“And those, have turned to that rusted maroon you like so much.” He looked to you, features softening. “Does the green leaf know that it is to turn? To change and ebb? Does it have expectation of rebirth?” “It is pretty humble for you to compare yourself to a leaf, I’ll give you that” you mumbled, limping over a pile of scattered cow shit. Loki stopped abruptly, sliding his arm from yours and cupping your shoulders in his hands. His eyes were wide, running over your face as his brows slanted. “Darling, please let me carry you” he whispered earnestly. “Let me help you.” You considered telling him to fuck off, but one brief glance at the endless uneven path stretching down to the forest made you pause. “Fine,” you sighed. “But don’t call me darling. We don’t do that anymore.” A small smile pressed against Loki’s cheeks, making his dimples flash. Immediately he crouched, extending his arms with palms facing up. You shuffled between them, adopting the position.

The beige fleece Loki was wearing did nothing to stop the warmth of his hard chest seeping through your clothes, a thick waft of his natural musk filling your nostrils. With one hand looped behind his neck, clasping the other, you tried to imagine a world where this sweetness wasn’t everything you desperately wanted.

“See?” he postured absent-mindedly as he picked his way down the path with ease. “I can be charming.” Glad of the change of topic, you kept your tone to one of mild interest. “Who says you aren’t charming?” “My brother,” he growled quietly. A snort of unexpected laughter erupted from your throat. You looked to him, faces inches apart. The crawl of Loki’s bemused gaze from your lips to your eyes made your heart skip.

“It’s just…” you started guiltily, searching the depths of his brilliantly blue irises. Even in the gathering gloom of the storm, they sparked. “I-” “I understand,” he said abruptly, looking forward again. His lips formed a hard line, the blade of his cheekbone deepening as his face set. Whatever Loki thought you had meant to say, it was not the truth. But somehow, the truth was harder to muster now than the fiction where you couldn’t stand him. You felt him readjust his grip on your waist, fingers sinking into the soft fleece beneath your rainjacket.

“You are charming,” you whispered against the wind. It was supposed to sound comforting. Platonic. But a part of you hoped that it wouldn’t. Against your better judgement, you curled the hair on his furthest shoulder behind his ear before knitting your fingers again. “Thor isn’t one to talk, anyway.” “Rogers confirmed it,” Loki rebutted harshly, the words catching in his throat. He was very pointedly not looking at you, you noticed. “Steve isn’t one to talk either,” you chuckled, before sighing. Rain fell heavier now, thick droplets landing on your forehead and following the tracks of forgotten tears.

You watched it fall against Loki’s brow, a silken sheen of moisture coating the milk-wild perfection you’d kissed every inch of in your time together. A lone droplet rolled down his temple, following the gutter of his cheekbone before dripping languidly down his chin. It lingered on his jawline, taking the long way down before falling. “Are you alright, Agent?” Loki murmured.

He’d been watching.

Thunder rolled overhead as you nodded slowly, rain clinging to your lashes. Hair was plastered to his cheeks now, inky tendrils winding across alabaster skin like oil on snow. His grip around your body tightened, looking upwards. “Hold on tight,” he growled.

You barely had time to process his words before a torrent unleashed overhead, battering against the ground as Loki began a run down the hill. “M-magic t-to dry-?” you gasped as every stride of his strong legs knocked the breath from your lungs.

“It is fruitless against the English onslaught,” Loki yelled over the storm’s sudden din. “Believe me.” You buried your face in his neck, the heat of your breath against his wet skin conjuring images of lazy mornings spent fucking in his shower. How steam filled the room like Vatican smoke, heralding the joyus arrival of your climax over and over.

Loki would hold you safe against the wall, his large palms cupping your ass and guiding you towards pleasure you had never experienced before. And never would again. The sweet pants of praise he released wetly against your skin, the splatter from his sodden hair as he snapped his neck back in ecstasy. The squeak of his enormous hand running down the glass shield as he came undone inside you. It would haunt your mind forever. The ghost in the cellar.

And now, just like then, there was nothing to do but hold on. Your grip tightened around his neck, the flat of his thigh hitting your ass every so often when, presumably, he cleared a tree trunk.

Every nerve beneath your skin was on fire, each movement jolting life into feelings you had tried to smother. You were acutely aware of your lips parting against the curve of his neck, delicate skin hovering above his own.

Taunting yourself, you brushed against him; sucking your own breath back from the rebound. The fine hairs on his skin tingled your lips, sending twisting aches of desire between your thighs. Loki veered to the left, thrusting your face against his neck. Involuntarily the grip around him tightened, clasping his skin to your lips in a desperate, if accidental, embrace.

And suddenly, it was gone. Loki had lowered you to the ground, standing back abruptly. He stood triangular, legs apart like a soldier.

The fabric of his clothes was dark, saturated with water and clinging to his lithe body like a second skin. It hung against the marbled muscle, tracking every deep line carved into his thighs and plastering the bulge of his crotch in a way that could only be described as obscene.

The stare he held was formidable, two distantly smouldering eyes set with purpose which observed from beneath heavily knitted brows. Hands clasped ceremonially behind his back, he lowered his chin and nodded to the side. With disappointment, you realised you were back at the cottage. Loki had stopped in a small clearing, and the dismal looking residence couldn’t be more than fifty meters away. “I thought you could go ahead” he said, raking his fingers through sodden hair. It slathered back from his face, the sharp lines glinting. “That way, Rogers will never need to know there was an...incident. I will follow after an appropriate interval with an appropriate excuse.”

“Come with me,” you said incredulously, wiping a swathe of water from your cheek. As Loki shook his head, you found you couldn’t stop yourself. “I want them to know you helped, it was my fault I was stupid, I got myself fucking crag-fast like an idiot...and hurt and you-” “No.” was Loki’s staunch response.

The lonely sound of rain on the tree canopy rustled.

Brow furrowing, you stepped closer and brushed down his arm, drawing one hand out from behind his back. It sat limply in yours. “Come with me,” you pleaded.

Loki frowned, staring at your hand holding his own. As if it was not his own. And with aching clarity, you realised this was him trying. “I fear, under the circumstances, I would not be able to contain myself from being…” he swallowed thickly, cricking his neck to the side before continuing, “-myself.” You stared at him, and he at you.

There was a flutter of wet leaves beneath his feet as he shuffled. “Really, you should go you’ll catch your dea-” And just like that, without thinking, you had crossed the space between you.

Like an out of body experience, hands slid over his sodden shoulders, pulling his parted lips to yours mid-words. Warmth flooded your body as his frozen arms slowly made a cage around your waist, sliding down your back like you would shatter beneath his touch.

His tongue slipped cautiously between your lips. It grew with each passing second to a raging hunger in every all-consuming jut muscle against your own. It felt like home. Your fingers tangled in clumped strands of hair against his scalp, teeth clashing while fears were forgotten. If only for now. For now, you wanted to love him. “Loki,” you moaned into his mouth.

His name held weight when you said it like that.

His hands searched your body, never settling in one place, grasping at the jacket which crackled and slid beneath his fingers. Loki panted, cupping your chin before delving deeper.

Every unspoken word, every abandoned touch, each lingering glance that ate away at you in the dead of night flooding from your body to his in that kiss.

“Darling,” he breathed as he held you still. His wet forehead pressed against yours. Your eyes were still closed, waiting for his return. Nerves fluttered in your chest, your stomach; happiness that you daren’t have hoped for sloshing at the edges of your sanity. You couldn’t think.

“Darling,” he repeated stiffly, a gentle shake of his grip urging your eyes open. “I can’t-” he said solemnly, as you opened your eyes. You felt words forming – ‘Don’t call me darling’ - or maybe it was a scream. But a single finger to your lips silenced it, whatever it would have been. “Go.” he said. And he meant it. And as you felt the scream rise again in your throat, you did.

Loki’s watch followed you all the way to the door as he lingered on the edge of the forest. You could feel his gaze as keenly as though it were his hands. How you wished that memory was as hard to conjure as it had been before daybreak. Through the window, you could see Thor buttering crumpets.

One last kiss, you thought; hoping the rain would mask your tears from the others inside.

One last kiss before the lights went out.

>>>> Chapter Four: Home Truths Tags

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#the lakes #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki smut #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki imagine #loki series #loki gif #loki x yn

694 notes · View notes

gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years ago

Note

Can you do Mr Pigeon 72 for the ask where you explain the episode pls?

Gale Poorly Explains: Mr.Pigeon 72

Alya: Wtf have you been on

Marinette: STRESS!!!!

Alya: Yea... (sees Mr.Ramier) That guy has some s*** to work out

(explosion)

Marinette: I may have gone a bit off the deep end

Alya: I think you need a break

Alya: Oh btw Adrien is single again

Marinette: (Stops) Wait what!

Alya: Yep, you know what that means.

Marinette: Kagami must be demolished! I MUST FIX THIS

Alya: ... Not what i was expecting but that works

________________________________________________

Kagami: Just casually training

Marinette: (full on tackle) KAGAMI!

Kagami: Nice form.

Marinette: I heard what happened, I will fix this.

Kagami: i am very confused.

Tomoe: As am I

Marinette: Stealing your daughter, take this bread.

Tomoe: I am oddly okay with this

_______________________________________________

Plagg: WHY ARE WE SWIMMING

Adrien: I brought cheese.

Plagg: I am okay with this.

__________________________________________________

Bob Roth: They are doves Gabriel

Mr.Ramier: But they arent

Bob Roth: Shut up or your fired

__________________________________________________

Kagami: I already said I dont want to do this

Marinette: Thats a good joke Kagami. According to my perfect memory of Adrien's schedule. He has a photo shoot today

Kagami: How much of Adrien's schedule do you know

Marinette: Up to the next three years

Kagami: And when is Ex's birthday?

Marinette: In a couple weeks or so. I would need to check. Why?

Kagami: Nothing... Just wondering how that relationship could have possibly failed.

___________________________________________________

Gabriel: This add needs more sex appeal. Have the dove carry a rose

Bob roth: Sure thing.

Adrien: But Im deathly allergic

__________________________________________________

Marinette: Dont worry I got swimsuits

Kagami: You are a regular Milo Murphy arent you

Marinette: Yea... Anyway I am sure we will have you and Adrien back together

Kagami: But I dumped him

Marinette: BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?

___________________________________________________

Adrien does the shoot and sneezes and falls flat

Marinette: Isnt he amazing? Dont you have the jitters

Kagami: Implication that Marinette is clearly the only one simping

Marinette: I got it. We need to recreate the moment you two met.

Kagami: I can see this going horribly wrong and HOW ARE YOU SO STRONG!

(Adrien sees Marinette and Kagami and falls)

Kagami: That was awkward as hell

Marinette: NONSENSE WE ARE TRYING AGAIN

(CUE ANTICS THAT HAS Marinette fall on Adrien into the water)

Marinette: Must resist urge to thirst

Adrien: Oh Hi Marinette.

Marinette: ABORT (runs away)

(MR. RAMIER MAKES OUT TO SAVE HIS BIRD)

Bob Roth: Gross...

Gabriel: Well this shoot sucks. Im done

Bob Roth: Mr.Ramier you are fired

Mr.Ramier: But I didnt do anything wrong

Adrien: It was my fault

Bob Roth: Shut up, its plot relevant

_________________________________________________

Shadowmoth: COME ON NUMBER 72

Mr.Pigeon: NOW I CAN TURN PEOPLE INTO PIGEONS

_________________________________________________ Plagg: OH NO ADRIEN IS A PIGEON! Gotta tell ladybug

Ladybug gets trapped in a bathroom

Ladybug: Alya I need your help.

Alya: Awesome, btw I found out some things because I am running on normal amounts of sleep.

(Cue elaborate plan by Rena Rouge that defeats Mr.Pigeon

___________________________________________________

Mr.Ramier: Guess I am doomed to be Shadowmoths f*** toy forever.

Ladybug: So it seems. I am sorry

Rena rouge: But Ladybug, you can just say he cant be akumatized

Ladybug: Omg you right, I am ladybug. (creates charm) Here. You are now free

Mr.Ramier: Hazzah

____________________________________________________

Kagami: CLEARLY you are thirsting hard for Adrien. So deal with that. Stop projecting on me.

Marinette: But

Kagami: For your sanity, just ask him out

(struts off like a pimp)

Marinette and Adrien inadvertently create the umbrella scene

Marinette: Yea... I am not over him.

Adrien: So whats up

Marinette: Want to walk home together? And maybe... Hold hands

Adrien: I would but my dad is a prude. G2G

Marinette: Well Guess I am back to simping

#ml #ml s*** posts #miraculous ladybug #gale poorly explains #mr.pigeon 72

80 notes · View notes

archived-kin · 4 years ago

Text

solomon deserves a husband so i'm giving him one (it's you)

note from kin: i don’t know HOW i’ve managed to get this out so soon after my last piece but i do know that it is a miracle (now watch me disappear for like a month lmao)

anyway there’s a severe lack of content for the boys in this fandom and therefore i am here to try to mitigate that!!

(as a heads up, this is sort of an au version of obey me’s story?? there’s no exchange program, and the general human world doesn’t know about the devildom or celestial realm, apart from sorcerers and similar special cases. solomon and simeon both still visit the devildom, though - solomon because he has a sort of job at the r.a.d., and simeon as an ambassador sort of thing for the celestial realm. the r.a.d.’s also less of a school and more of an organisation?? i haven’t really fleshed it out haha)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): male! reader, solomon, mammon (briefly), simeon (briefly)

pairing(s): solomon/reader

warning(s): blasphemy??? solomon disses god really briefly and that’s about it

genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!

As a general rule of thumb, Solomon doesn’t believe in destiny.

He’s lived long enough to know that, no matter what he does, the universe does not care about him, much less have some sort of plan for his future. The course that the world takes isn’t affected by some grand puppet master pulling the strings; one has to force the so-called path of fate in the direction they want it to take if they want something. Solomon knows this better than anyone.

It’s as much a downfall as it is a strength - as much as power as he’s amassed over the countless years, his constant need to challenge the universe’s power has lead him down a path far from humanity. There had been a time when he was like every other human on the Earth, when he was still young, full of hope and determination and promise, believing earnestly in some God high in the sky who would guide him through his life.

He shudders to think what sort of insufferable fool he’d been back then. An almighty God? Don’t make him laugh. The ruler of the Celestial Realm is incompetent at best, and a downright childish brat at worst. He doesn’t know how the angels put up with him - though he supposes his realm-smiting power is part of it. Why the universe chose to place such power on such a being’s shoulders will always be beyond him.

Long as it has been since he had been so naive, Solomon has learnt his lesson, to say the least. He’s seen people come and go, witnessed kings and queens reign and fall, watched on as friends and family live and die. It’s a truth that he’s been forced to learn across the years of his long, long life, a curse that he brought upon himself the moment he gave up the purity of his soul in pursuit of magical arts.

He supposes he’s always had an insatiable thirst for the unknown - to play all his cards out front, to tempt fate’s hand, to jump into the void and hope to find ground beneath his feet when he lands. It’s that sort of reckless abandon and hunt for knowledge that has led him so far down this path, through so many years, across so many sleepless nights. The world continues to swirl around him, always changing, but Solomon refuses to be swept away. Because, even in the tumultuous movement of the universe, there has always been one constant that keeps him anchored - you.

The night he'd first met you isn’t as clear in his mind as he would have liked. He wants to be able to remember everything - the way the soft blue light of the will-o’-whisps had lit up your eyes in the dark of the night, the way that your hand had felt in his as you greeted him with a handshake, the way that you had said his name for the first time - in sharp detail, but Solomon knows better than to hope to recall something so long ago so perfectly.

He’d still been relatively new to a sorcerer’s life at the time - excited and determined and a little too full of himself. You… well, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he does remember thinking that you must be the most handsome being to exist. The you of today would probably shake your head and dismiss the past you as an obnoxious high hoper, but Solomon has loved you for so many years that he’s never been able to think of you as anything less than perfect.

There are times when he wondered how he managed to stumble upon such luck. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Solomon has has had truly insufferable periods over the years he’s known you, and he’s always considered it a miracle that you still chose to stay. Even through all the restless nights and the exhausting trips, even after all of the clashes and vexation, you have refused to give up on him.

He had asked you once, in the aftermath of an argument spurred by his inability to confide in you and your own frustration with his refusal to communicate. He remembers that night so vividly that it might well have happened just yesterday - the frustrated shouts, the shattering of glass, the warmth of your arms around his shoulders as he finally collapsed on himself. He doesn’t know what your face had looked like as he stuttered the question out in stuttering breaths, head buried in your shoulder in an effort to conceal his tears, but he imagines that it had been soft.

“I’m not going to leave you to yourself,” You had told him matter-of-factly, stroking his hair with such fondness that it still sometimes brings a tear to his eye when he remembers it on particularly long nights. “And I’m not giving up on you, either - not now, not ever.”

Solomon had been unable to speak, too choked up by his feelings and the sudden, overwhelming love spreading through his entire body to reply. He’d only sunk deeper into your embrace, wishing that the moment could last forever.

I wonder if he still remembers that…?

“...lomon! Anyone home?!”

He jolts up from the table he’s sitting at so abruptly that he nearly knocks his head right into Mammon’s chin. The Avater of Greed, however, reacts quickly, and hops back before Solomon can break his jawbone.

“Jeez, you’re off on a different planet today,” He comments, setting his hands on his hips as Solomon shoots him the sort of look that tells him that he’s not particularly enthused about his presence at the moment. “What’s up with ya?”

Solomon isn’t quite sure how to answer. Sorry, I got distracted thinking about how perfect and lovely my husband is and how I’m the luckiest man in the entire world - nay, the universe - to have him. He nearly physically shudders at the thought of how much teasing he’d receive if he answered like that.

Instead, he chooses a much safer and still technically true option. “Just thinking about going home today.”

Mammon nods in understanding, pulling up a seat next to him and throwing himself down into it without much grace. “I feel ya. S’ been a long day.”

“You’ve barely done anything today,” Solomon quips flatly, not particularly impressed by the demon’s attempt at… empathy? Relatability? Either way, it isn’t working. “I doubt it’s been that hard.”

“Now, now, Solomon, let’s not be rude,” interjects a soft voice from behind them. Simeon is still dressed in his fancy envoy cloak - the one so long and heavy that it trails along behind him like a bridal train, decorated with a number of elaborate golden charms that jingle as he moves.

Solomon attempts to shoot him a slightly annoyed look, but it’s kind of hard to stay irritated by one of the literal embodiments of holiness and light, even if he wakes you up at very unholy hours of the morning to help him figure out how to answer an email. Solomon isn’t ungrateful for the new age of technology descending on humanity, but he’d like it a lot better if it hadn’t somehow reached the angels as well. The amount of times he’s had to tell Simeon that he needs to actually turn his D.D.D. on before he starts calling someone is… embarrassing, to say the least.

“You’re back in the Devildom, I see,” He observes as the angel pulls up a seat and sits beside him. “Did Michael send you down again?”

Simeon nods with a smile. “There were some arrangements that needed to be made with Lord Diavolo. Naturally, I volunteered.”

“Naturally,” Solomon echoes, raising a brow at his friend. “I don’t suppose your biases had anything to do with your decision?”

“Well, they may have had some effect,” Simeon answers with a shameless smile and shrug, beginning to undo the tassels of his heavy cloak and draping it on the back of chair he’s sitting on. He’s still wearing all of his regular clothes underneath it - including the other, much smaller cloak. Solomon wonders how he hasn’t somehow melted in the heat.

“When’re you gonna start heading home, anyway?” Mammon asks, beginning to pick at a loose thread on his jacket sleeve. “It’s gettin’ late.”

Solomon blinks and looks up at the clock. “...ah, you’re right. In that case, I'll get going now.”

Mammon shoots him an odd look as he pushes himself up from the table and reaches for his bag, managing to hoist it onto his shoulder with some effort. He’s never been particularly good at heavy lifting - you’re usually the one helping him carry everything around the house.

“Oi, oi, what’s the rush?” the demon asks as Solomon adjusts the weight of his bag and starts heading for the door. “You on a timer or something?”

“I promised [Name] I’d be home earlier tonight,” is Solomon’s slightly absent-minded reply as he fiddles about in his pocket to find his transportation charm, nearly losing his balance and dropping his bag in the process. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Mammon watches him in clear confusion for a moment as he pats down his pockets, mumbling a quiet curse under his breath as he realises that he’s left his charm at home again. How many times this month does that make it now...? He supposes that he could always perform a teleportation spell, but knowing his luck with those, he’ll probably end up somewhere in Morocco again.

“Oi, Simeon,” Mammon hisses to the angel, who cocks his head slightly to the side and leans over so as to hear him more clearly. “Who’s this ‘[Name]’ Solomon’s talkin’ about?”

“You don’t know?” Simeon blinks at him in blatant perplexion - as if he can’t even fathom the idea that Mammon might not know who Solomon’s talking about. “He’s talking about his husband.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then—

“Solomon has a HUSBAND!?” Mammon practically shrieks, completely flabbergasted. “I thought he was totally, like, the forever alone type!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed?” is Simeon’s bewildered response. “Who do you think Solomon is always talking about buying groceries for?”

“I thought he was just buyin’ them for himself!” Mammon fires back, looking far more ruffled and shocked than he probably should be. He whips around to look at Solomon, who’s flicking through the little packet of blank charms he keeps on him at all times in an effort to find the right one to create a temporary transportation charm. He’s had to do it so many times this month that he’s already beginning to run out. “You’re married?!”

“Of course,” Solomon answers vaguely, briefly raising his left hand, allowing Mammon to spot the soft glint of a ring around his fourth finger. “You’re not?”

“Wh— ‘course I’m not!” Mammon exclaims, positively scandalised by the very concept. “Why would I get married, huh?! It’s a waste of time and a waste of money!”

“Think whatever you like,” Solomon dismisses him easily, which only seems to irritate Mammon further.

Finally having found the right blank charm, he plucks it out and begins carefully tracing patterns onto it with a single glowing finger. He’s dimly aware of Mammon furiously whispering to Simeon in the background, with the angel responding in kind, most likely sharing some exaggerated story from back when the three of you had worked together - when Solomon had accepted a job from the Celestial Realm. The details of the whole thing are a little fuzzy to him now, long as it has been, but he’s almost completely sure that Simeon somehow still remembers the whole thing flawlessly.

“How old even is he?!” He hears Mammon hiss.

“I’m not so sure myself,” Simeon replies, placing his chin in a thoughtful hand. “Let’s see… their two millennial anniversary’s coming up in about two years, and I remember Solomon saying that they got married when he was around two hundred or so… which means he’s about twenty-one hundred years old.”

“Holy shit,” Mammon mutters in disbelief, turning glance at the sorcerer as he starts folding down the corners of his charm into the right shape. “Humans aren’t supposed to live that long. How’s his husband still alive, then?”

“That isn’t really a question for me to answer,” Simeon shakes his head slightly. “I suppose you can always ask him yourself if Solomon ever brings him to work with him.”

“I doubt it,” Solomon speaks up for the first time since announcing his departure. “He’s usually busy during the day. Besides, transportation charms make him queasy, and I’m not making him walk all the way down here.”

“Aren’t you a wizard?” Mammon asks, scratching his head. “Just do one of ya fancy teleportation spells. Why d’you need a charm?”

Solomon sighs. He hates to admit it, but he can’t be bothered to make up some other reason to cover up for himself. “I’m afraid that teleportation spells aren’t actually particularly accurate. We could end up somewhere in the Pacific if I’m not careful.”

Mammon looks thunderstruck. “Then what about all those times you’ve teleported us?! Don’t tell me we coulda ended up in, like, the Archaic Pit or something?!”

“Well, it was always a possibility,” Solomon shrugs in reply, finishing the charm with a deft flick of his hand. “You’re a demon, I sure you could have handled yourself.”

“But…!” Mammon crosses his arms and turns away like a grumpy child. “Hmph…”

“Do say hello to [Name] for me, will you?” Simeon requests as Solomon turns to open the door, ignoring the sulking demon sitting beside him. “We haven’t been able to talk for a while.”

“You text him every day, don’t you?” Solomon asks, shooting him an unimpressed look. “I’d say that’s conversation enough.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be stingy,” Simeon countered with a smile, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning forward. “Besides, one misses the presence of an actual person after a while of nothing but electronic communication... especially texting is so difficult. Tell him he’s always welcome to come around for some tea - Luke would be happy to see him.”

Solomon shakes his head, but makes a sound of affirmation nevertheless. You had mentioned that you’ve missed seeing Simeon since he’d started the whole negotiator businesss, and he isn’t the sort of person to deny you the company of a friend. “I’ll let him know. Anyway, I should really be going now…”

“Have a safe journey!” Simeon calls after him as he swings the door open and sweeps out. Solomon waves a hand over his shoulder in response, then disappears down the corridor, most likely to a quiet spot in the courtyard to use his charm. He’s been banned from using them indoors ever since he accidentally shattered one of the fancy artifacts in the assembly hall and sent hundreds of shards flying everywhere. Apparently Barbatos is still finding tiny pieces of glass in the crevices of the floor.

“Why didn’t Solomon ever say anythin’?” Mammon asks Simeon after a moment of quietude. “Seems like the sorta thing you’d mention.”

“Solomon’s a private man,” Simeon says with a shrug. “Besides, he and [Name] have made plenty of enemies over the years, and you’d be shocked by how quickly names and locations can spread…”

“Does he mind us knowin’ about it, then?”

“Well, personally, I’ve known for a while,” Simeon answers, “And I’m sure the others will have worked it out by now - Solomon’s always finding ways to mention [Name] in passing. But no, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. He’d say something if he did.”

Mammon nods and goes silent for a little while. Then he asks, “What’s this [Name] like, then? Must be some guy if Solomon liked him enough to put a ring on him and keep him for that long.”

“Well, let’s see…” Simeon drums his fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop. “He has quite the penchant for raising deadly plants, he hasn’t gone more than a full month without exploding something or another for about five centuries, he takes clocks apart in his spare time, he likes his coffee with a touch of vanilla, he collects cursed books, he makes a lovely butterscotch-cinnamon pie, and he works as a curse breaker for hire.”

It takes a moment for Mammon to process all of the information that’s just been dumped on him. “...sounds like the kinda guy Satan would get along with.”

“I thought so as well,” Simeon agrees. “Their house even reminds me of Satan’s room, in a way… [Name] is quite the avid reader.”

“What, you’ve been?”

“Only once,” Simeon’s eyes flutter closed for a moment as he reminisces. “Quite a long time ago now. I wouldn’t know where to find it even if I wanted to go again, though - it’s always moving.”

“Do they move house a lot, then?”

Simeon shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. They’ve lived in the same house for centuries - it’s the house that moves itself.”

Mammon pauses. “...what?”

“The building,” Simeon clarifies. “They’ve got an enchantment on the whole thing that makes it change locations every couple of weeks or so.”

“But… why?”

Simeon shrugs. “[Name] doesn’t like staying in one place for too long.”

“Still, isn’t that a bit much…?” Mammon pulls a face. “They could always just travel, ya know…”

“As Solomon said, transportation talismans make [Name] feel queasy,” Simeon explains. “And he prefers not to use teleportation spells when it comes to him, just in case they end up somewhere dangerous.”

“And he doesn’t care about the rest of us ending up somewhere dangerous?” Mammon huffs and collapses forwards onto the table.

“Well, you can’t really compare the two,” Simeon says patiently as the demon continues to mutter indignantly under his breath. “He’s his husband, and we’re essentially just his friends from work.”

Mammon opens his mouth to make a rebuttal, then thinks about it for a moment and changes his mind. After a moment, he comments, a little less resentfully, “Well, you’d think he’d at least introduce us.”

“He’s been planning to for a while, actually,” Simeon tells him. “Give him some time and he’ll probably bring it up on his own.”

Mammon nods. “He’d better!”

“I’m home.”

You look up from the book you’re reading and hop down from your seat on the roof just in time to see Solomon emerge from the back garden, looking noticeably dishevelled, with leaves decorating his head like some sort of fancy accessory.

“Welcome back!” You greet him happily, setting the book aside and moving forward to start picking the leaves from his hair. Solomon smiles softly at you as you take his bag in one hand and start pulling him to the front door with the other. “You forgot your talisman again, by the way.”

“I noticed,” He laughs, gently removing your hand from his upper arm and wrapping his fingers around it instead. “Why else do you think I ended up in the hedges again?”

“It’s a wonder that you’ve had to make these temporary talismans so many times and you still haven’t gotten one right yet,” You tease in reply, nudging him in the shoulder. “How many points is that on the tally now, then?”

“Ten for the basement, seven for the roof, and eleven for the hedges now,” He answers with a small pout as you laugh. “Honestly, you’d think I would have learnt my lesson...”

“You never do, love.”

The door creaks as you and your husband enter the house, only to immediately be greeted by a bundle of scales hitting you head-on. You manage to keep your footing and steady yourself on the doorway; Solomon isn’t so lucky, and ends up laying spread-eagled on the floor with about two hundred kilograms of excited adolescent dragon purring on his chest.

“Looks like Triton missed you,” You comment with a bright smile, setting Solomon’s bag down beside the umbrella rack and leaning over to give the dragon a scratch behind his left horn, just the way he likes it. He rumbles happily and jingles the little bell around his neck at you. “Isn’t he getting big?”

“I saw him this morning, [Name],” Solomon wheezes from his position on the floor, somehow managing to reach up and tickle Triton’s chin with one hand despite the dragon’s weight. “He can’t have grown that much in ten hours.”

“You never know!” You tell him, reaching up and wrapping your arms around Triton’s neck. He coos in a delighted fashion and raises his head, setting it heavily on your shoulder. Solomon uses the brief lightening of the weight on him to take in a deep breath as you allow your dragon to nuzzle furiously into your neck. “Dragons are unpredictable, you know.”

“Believe me, I do,” He sighs tiredly as Triton blows out a pleased puff of hot air and knocks the clock off the wall again. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Triton, I’d quite like to get back up again.”

The dragon blinks and raises his head from your shoulder, glancing down at the sorcerer that he’s crushing under his weight. Then he huffs and turns away again.

“Oh, you—!” Solomon curses as the dragon seems to press even harder into him. Your laughter rings out across the hall, and while he’d normally take a moment to admire the sound, he’s a little preoccupied. “[Name], stop laughing and help me!”

“He’s like a rebellious teenager!” You splutter helplessly in reply, voice still trembling slightly out of mirth. Triton makes a happy noise as you reach up and rub his scaly cheeks, his ears fluttering slightly. “Awww, you’re really growing up, aren’t you, baby? Your poor dads are really going to have their work cut out for them, huh?”

“Hey,” Solomon calls reproachfully from beneath Triton’s enormous chest. “Your husband’s still being crushed down here.”

“Oh, right!” You click your tongue and give Triton a meaningful look. He grumbles but obeys nevertheless, hopping off of Solomon (though not without knocking all the air out of him by using his chest as a launchpad) and scampering off, most likely to go play with the salamanders that have set up shop in the storage room again.

“I’ll never understand how you manage him so well,” Solomon sighs as you bend down to pull him to his feet, rubbing at the sore spot on his chest. “He never listens to me.”

“Aw, he loves you, really,” You reassure him, taking his hand and pressing a comforting kiss to his knuckles. “He just likes roughhousing with you.”

Solomon shakes his head, wanting to complain further about the big lizard that the two of you had adopted six months ago after the last one grew up and flew the nest, but then he sees the smile on your face, and he feels the flicker of irritation in his chest die down almost immediately. It’s at times like this that he’s really reminded of how absolutely worth it all of the nonsense he has to put up with at work is - because, at the end of the day, you are here, with your warm eyes and your lovely smile, with your comforting hands and your warm embrace, and there is no road too long to walk if you are waiting for him at the end of it.

“I know,” He sighs, tugging off his shoes and stepping into his favourite pair of slippers - the ones with the little cat faces printed on them that you’ve charmed to always maintain a perfect temperature for his feet. He glances at your own feet and notes that you’re wearing your matching pair as well.

The two of you have long since set up a routine for this sort of occasion, and you both fall into it with unconscious ease. Solomon changes into something more comfortable while you put the kettle on in the kitchen, and the two of you inevitably spend so long snuggled up together on the largest armchair in the living room, unwilling to leave the warmth of each other’s presence, that the water cools down, and you end up having to put it back on again. Then you sit together at the table, you with a coffee with a dash of vanilla and him with his favourite chrysanthemum tea that you always brew just the way he likes it. Sometimes you’ll sit side by side, shoulders pressed up against each other as you show him the specifics of your latest curse-breaking commission, and sometimes you’ll sit across from each other, holding hands across the tabletop as he tells you about his day.

Today it is the former, but Solomon can’t help but zone a little out of the detailed deep-dive you’re giving him about the intricacies of the spell that’s cursed this teapot to shoot its contents at anyone who attempts to fill it. It isn’t that your explanation is boring - quite the contrary, in fact; Solomon could probably listen to you describing the most mundane or trivial of things on loop for the rest of his life and be perfectly content with it. No, it’s more to do with the fact that this is the first time he’s been home before dark in a long while, and he can’t help but revel in the fact that he can spend time with you like this again. Of course, there’s something wonderful in coming home to be able to collapse into bed beside you and bury his face in the crook of your neck, drifting to sleep as you burrow closer to him even in your sleep, but Solomon can’t run off of that forever - he needs to see you with your eyes open as well, after all.

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?” You ask as you note the far-off look on your husband’s face. You’re not offended in the slightest by the way he starts at the directed question, evidently guilty, but you are a little puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”

Solomon’s mouth falls open slightly, then shuts again. There’s something about the way you’re looking at him so earnestly that makes his heart stutter like nothing else. Honestly, you’d think he’d be used to this after nearly two thousand years, but it seems that he’s still as weak for you as he was on the very first day of your marriage. “...I suppose I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“You always have a lot on your mind,” You counter softly, giving his hand a brief squeeze. “Come on, you can tell me.”

He laughs quietly, bringing your linked hands up to his face and gently holding yours to the side of his face; you, in turn, unfurl your fingers from around his and rub his cheek affectionately. After a moment, a fond smile pulling at his lips, Solomon replies, “I’ve… missed you a lot this week.”

You pause in mild surprise, but it quickly turns to endearment as Solomon presses his body even closer to yours. The hand that you’re using to hold your mug of coffee moves to settle on his shoulder as you pull him closer. “Really now? What a coincidence. I’ve missed you lots as well, love.”

He chuckles a little bashfully, his cheeks flushing. It seems that your ability to fluster him hasn’t declined even a bit over the years. He’s still well and truly besotted.

You can’t help but find it rather amusing that, despite already having spent a good hour and a half or so in the living room, bundled so close together in the blankets that you could feel his breath on your skin, the two of you are still nestling so close together now. You suppose it’s the effects of a week with much less contact than usual.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw before pulling back again, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip. Solomon exhales softly, pulling his own drink towards him and draining the last of the tea in a single mouthful.

“You know,” He says, setting his empty cup down on the table. “One of my coworkers was asking about you earlier.”

“‘Coworkers’,” You snort at his choice of language, earning a reproachful poke in the side as punishment. “Come on, just admit that they’re your friends.”

“Fine,” He sighs. “One of my friends, then - Mammon, the one that Lucifer’s stringing up all the time.”

“The one with white hair?” You recall, thinking back to the group photo that Simeon had sent you a while back. “He’s the Avatar of Greed, right?”

“That’s the one,” Solomon nods. “Apparently he never noticed that I was married.”

“Well, you can’t really blame him,” You say, giving him a playful nudge. “Honestly, the way you keep your mouth shut, you’d think I was some shameful secret or something.”

Solomon looks scandalised by the very idea - it had only been a little joke, but his eyes flash with such affront that it’s almost as if someone has genuinely called you such a thing. “Of course not! I’d never—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I was joking,” You cut him off before he can get more riled up. Solomon calms down quickly once you set a comforting hand on his knee, though he still looks a little indignant. “I know why you don’t like talking about us much, but really, it’s okay. They’re your friends, aren't they?”

He hesitates, then nods, releasing another deep sigh soon afterwards. “I suppose. There isn’t much I can really do about it at this point anyway… according to Simeon, most of them have somehow figured it out already.”

“They’re probably a lot smarter than you give them credit for, Sol,” You hum, reaching up and brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes for him. “They’re demons, after all. They’ve lived even longer than us.”

“Believe me, they really aren’t.” Solomon shakes his head, a frown pinching at his brow at the very memory of the amount of things that his coworkers have done recently - some of the most notable being Diavolo setting an entire flock of geese free in the courtyard for an ‘experiment’, Levi quite literally throwing himself out of a window just to win a bet against Mammon about who could get down the stairs faster, Asmo causing a stampede in the main hall by dropping and shattering a bottle full of a powerful aphrodisiac potion that became even more powerful once released into the air, and Lucifer accidentally breaking one of Solomon’s favourite cauldrons when he’d transformed into his demon form and inadvertently smacked halfway across the room it with one of his upper wings.

“I’d really love to meet them some day,” You sigh, swirling the contents of your mug around. “They sound like fun.”

“Trust me, the trouble isn’t worth it—” Solomon attempts to reason with you, but he gives up laughably quickly as you pout at him in protest. “Oh, fine. But don’t blame me if you get sick because of the charm again.”

“We don’t have to use the charm,” You shake your head. “Just do a teleportation spell!”

“You know that that’s risky,” Solomon sighs, chucking you under the chin and leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. You laugh as he draws back again, a pleased smile rising on his face at your reaction. “We could end up anywhere.”

“You’ve teleported them a bunch of times, though, haven’t you? And you haven’t ended up in Texas or the Sahara Desert any of those times!”

The resemblance to his earlier conversation with Mammon and Simeon is almost uncanny. “That’s different. I was still teleporting them within the Devildom, not across an entire realm barrier… and besides, I can afford the risk with them. You’re a different story.”

You pout again, shoulders dropping in defeat, though it doesn’t escape Solomon’s notice that his sentiment seems to have appeased you at least a little. “...guess we’ll just have to use a transportation talisman, huh…?”

“That’s your only option if you really want to visit, yes.”

You go quiet for a moment or two, nose wrinkling and face scrunching as you think it over. Solomon doesn’t mind the lack of conversation - he entertains himself by studying your features, wondering for perhaps the millionth time how he managed to find someone like you.

Finally, a determined look rising on your face, you nod and proclaim, “Then I’ll do it!”

Solomon cocks his head slightly to the side. He can’t say he’s surprised by your eagerness, but he had expected it to take you longer to make up your mind. He opens his mouth to say something, but tou answer his question before he’s even asked it, a skill that you’d managed to pick up within the first year or so of knowing him.

“I really wanna see what you actually get up to when you work,” You explain, looking a little sheepish. “You’ve had a job there for nearly two years and I’ve never even said a word to the people you work with.”

Solomon laughs. “It isn’t usually a requirement in the workplace. Wear appropriate uniform, bring any equipment you need, introduce your husband to your coworkers within the decade…”

“Still, I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least meet them,” You say. “Besides, I want to see Simeon as well. You said he’s working down in the Devildom for a bit as well, didn’t you?”

“Why are you so eager to see him, huh?” Solomon’s tone is light and teasing, so you know not to take him seriously as he puts on an hurt expression. “I’m offended. Your dear husband’s right here and you’re thinking about some angel.”

“Oh, stop it, you,” You shake your head in slightly exasperated amusement as he runs a finger down his cheek in lieu of a tear. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulls an exaggeratedly petulant face and pretends to turn away like an upset child. “Sometimes I feel like you love him more than me.”

“Simeon’s a lovely guy, but you’re still the only guy for me, you doof,” You tell him, tapping fondly at the cheek he’s turned to you with your free hand. Solomon obligingly turns back around to look at you, a grin pulling at his mouth. “Why would I marry you and then stay here for two thousand years if you weren't?”

“I guess I always assumed it was out of pity or something,” He jokes in response, leaning forward and briefly brushing his nose against yours. “And, just so you know, you’re the only guy for me as well.”

“I’d better be,” is your lighthearted reply as he pulls away. After a moment, looking at him expectantly, you begin tentatively, “So…?”

He sighs, but gives you a smile nevertheless. “I’ll ask Diavolo. He probably wouldn’t mind if I brought you without asking first, but Lucifer definitely would.”

“What’ll we do if they hate me?” You ask. “Do demons actually eat humans?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” He replies firmly. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, they won’t hate you. I doubt anyone could.”

You laugh and drop your head to rest on his chest. “You’re too nice to me, love.”

Solomon turns to wrap both his arms around your shoulders, setting his chin on the crown of your head. You smile into his jumper, looping your own arms around his waist and pushing yourself closer to him.

“I’m not just being nice. Honestly, [Name], you’re kind of the most perfect man in the universe.”

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #swd solomon #swd mammon #swd simeon #solomon x reader #reader insert #male reader #fluff #domestic sorcerer husbands #planning on turning this into a series if i can haha

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catz4ever · 3 years ago

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Review and Thoughts of Foundation Episode 8 "The Missing Piece":

-Hands down, this is my favorite episode of this season of Foundation!

-The idea that Brother Day would humble himself to the point where he was willing to risk the spiral as a regular human being without the protection of his blood nanobots is a bold move.

-I truly believe that this journey he went on was to prove to himself that he indeed had a soul. I feel like part of him felt scared that because of his clone make-up there was the possibility he doesn't have one. This further delves into the notion that although they are all clones of one original man, each Brother is indefinitely their own unique person. Brother Day is inherently trying to find himself as an individual. A similar thing is happening with Brother Dawn, physically and emotionally, but on a grander scale.

-I really loved that we got to see the human side of Brother Day in this episode. He struggled with the elements just as much as the other pilgrims. He even offered to help his travel companion and grieved for him when he finally gave in to death.

-Although he lied about seeing a vision in the pool at the end of his journey, the fact that he physically survived the whole journey is a personal achievement in itself. Personally, I think the idea that you are soulless for not having seen a vision at the end of your pilgrimage is complete BS. He didn't see a vision bc he does not share or practice in their religion. I fully believe that each Brother, although a clone, does have a real soul.

-Demerzel confronting Brother Day about lying to the sisters was passive aggressive and completely uncalled for. I understand why she was upset with him but to say what she said about not seeing a vision, that crossed the line for me. Yeah, he had her murder Zephyr Halima in the end and that was wrong, and I am not condoning that. But he took her stone with him on this pilgrimage to give him strength, so that she could be with him as she always has. He's always trusted her and she straight up tells him (well implies) that he doesn't have a soul. She knows he didn't see anything. But personally, again, the whole no vision= no soul baloney is complete BS. 🤷‍♀️ The tears welling up in his eyes as they were prepping him for the jump was absolutely heartbreaking. 😭 Shame on you Demerzel!

-I really appreciated the amount of time Lee's beautiful body had on screen. Like DAMN! He's worked so hard to look this good and I'm just glad we were blessed with a good show! He struts his stuff too like he knows it. 😏 Daddy vibes all day long! 🤤 THOSE THIGHS THO.....👀👀👀 (Excuse me while I wipe the drool off of my phone) 😂

-I lost count of the times I yelled "work it!" and "you handsome motherfucker!" During this episode 😂 I cat-call Lee all the time in the privacy of my own home, ...it's fine.

-All thirsting aside, Lee's performance in this episode was absolutely top-notch and breathtaking to watch! Someone please give this man more credit!

-Salvoor is now my second favorite character in this show. What a bad-ass!!!! 🤙🤙 I'm curious as to what happens since the Invictus is now about to make a jump and they are all awake. 😬 Like are they going to survive?

-What is this talk if a second foundation that Harri mentioned to Gaal? Like why didnt we hear of this before? Did he know in his calculations that the Terminus project would eventually fail? If so, why even bother? Does it have something to do with the mysterious gates on Terminus?

-Where TF is Gaal's story going to go?? Like she's just gonna float in space for over 100 years and that's it? I know the actress is returning for season two so maybe we'll have more answers before the end of the next two episodes?

SUMMING IT UP:

DEMERZEL IS A HEARTLESS TRAITOROUS BITCH

BROTHER DAY IS DADDY

THIGHS, BICEPS AND PECS.

That's it. That's the review. 🤣

If any of you want to add anything or discuss this episode further, feel free to comment or message me!

***The next segment of my Brother Day fanfic will be posted by the end of today so stay tuned!***

#Lee Pace #Brother Day #foundation apple tv #foundation #please send help #daddy? sorry #intergalactic emperor daddy #he has a soul dammit #apple tv #Lee is a literal God #foundation review

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xirenex · 3 years ago

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Promise That You Won’t Leave

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Group: Ateez

Member: Choi San

Genre: Angst

Word count: 1362

Trigger warning: mentions of terminal disease (please don’t read if you are uncomfortable with this. I changed the first version to be less obvious but cried nevertheless)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You opened your eyes and reached the glass of water that was prepared for you on the nightstand with an uncontrollable thirst, breathing heavily. Your eyes went towards the wide windows that covered half a wall of your hospital room. Shiber plushie was smiling to you from its place on the sofa while the usual keys were nowhere to be seen. Just when you reached towards the button that was for the purpose of calling the nurse as a wave of nausea hit you, your phone that had been put to silent mode started vibrating. Seeing the caller id, you decided that you could hold on for longer since he would panic if you were not to answer the phone.

“Hey, love.”

“Hi. Did I wake you?”

You smiled automatically after hearing his voice.

“Nope. I just woke up so... perfect timing.”

You heard a car door opening from the other end of the phone.

“I called you to tell you that I was called in by the company. You were sleeping so peacefully that I found it a waste to wake you up. I’m on my way back though.”

From his end of the call, the background filled with the sound of the car engine while the small amount of food that you had for lunch was poking your insides.

“Thank you, I rested well. Hey... uhm... I’m going to hang up. Drive safe, okay?”

“Is something the matter?”

His voice filled with worry but you thought there was no need to tell him your regular uncomfortable situation so, you just decided to ease his mind for now. He would learn it from the nurses when he arrived anyway. You wouldn’t want him to be distracted in traffic.

“I’m fine. I just have to use the restroom. Stop worrying and focus on the road.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll see yo-“

“See you later San.”

You hung up without waiting for him to finish his line and totally forgot to use a pet name before pulling up your weak body from the bed. You were barely able to reach the toilet. From the side of your eye, you saw the button on the wall with the same purpose as the one next to your bed. After pushing it, you leaned into the toilet while trying to hold your IVs in a safe position. A couple of seconds later, your appointed nurse came in to hold you through the time you threw up.

Just when you were about to lean back to take a breath, an anxious voice called your name.

“Y/N!”

San came running in and replaced the nurse. Since she was used to your boyfriend taking care of you, she left the room silently, leaving the door open in case you needed help. She would be back with a piece of bread and yoghurt since it always helped your stomach to calm down.

“Just a second, I need to brush my teeth.”

San nodded to your demand and helped you stand up. He was extremely cautious not to hurt you. After all that time you had to put up with this routine, you were nowhere close to your prior strong body condition and he was aware that tended to act rash under pressure. Although he was doing better compared to the first time you had learned of your disease, he tried his best to control himself in order to avoid hurting you.

You were held by your waist by him until you finished brushing your teeth and got back to your place in bed. Before you started on your treatment, you insisted on cutting your hair and not wait until it weakened. San and Woo both joined you by cutting off their hair with you, earning a good scolding from their manager, who by the way did the same after he learned of your sickness. Most of the time you’d have your wig on made from your own hair, you would reject the idea of being close to death. It could’ve been easier if you had the chance to simply take the surgery and -if possible- skip the medication part but the doctor found it safer to try increasing the success rate of the surgery with drugs first before taking you down to the operation room.

You cried the night you were admitted to the hospital while San was seeing the boys and your friends off. He was the one to hold you through each time you suffered, each time that play-pretend cracked and you saw the possibility your last moments in life come real in your dreams. You knew he was exhausted nearly as much as you were but never did he complained or left you alone for more than two hours.

That night, he was spooning you on your bed when a tear escaped your eye. Then, a kiss landed on your shoulder. You didn’t know that he had been awake this whole time, having the same fears that you did. The only sound in the room was the way he breathed your scent in. He couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth when he felt another drop of tear that this time fell on his arm under your head. Then, he whispered without having even a slight hesitation.

“You will get through this.”

There were dreams you two made in your two years of relationship. Dreams that now seemed far away. Having diagnosed with a deadly disease at the age of twenty-five was draining especially with your parents being absent in sharing the burden with your boyfriend who was an idol. Not to mention the comments he got when he announced that he had a girlfriend just to ask them to give you both some privacy when you recognized paparazzi on your way to the hospital. The fans were divided: they were either supporting and swooning over how thoughtful he was or hateful towards you for putting him through this. You, too, felt guilty and gave him a chance to go. However, it was never in his nature to leave his loved ones especially if they were in a hard situation.

“San, you have to promise me...”

“Shh...”

He hushed you, refusing to hear the words that was about to leave your mouth. It wasn’t that you gave up but being face to face with your end, you didn’t want to take the chance of leaving without saying what was needed to be said.

“Listen to me.”

You tried to turn around to face him but nearly blocked your IV pathway while doing so. Being used to this clumsy attitude of yours, he saved your hand at the last second and held your shoulders, both of you now sitting on the bed.

“No you listen to me.”

His voice was a decibel lower than what could be considered as shouting. This made you panic but since you were not a teenager anymore, instead of trying to come up with an answer of denial, you shut up.

“You have no right to do that talk to me, Pumpkin.”

Even if his brows were furrowed from the anger and anxiety born from you talking about “what if”s, he used your pet name.

“I know what attitude this relationship deserves if things come to that but you are alive and well now. Maybe weaker and thinner but it’s still you. Just a couple of stars less from your adorable eyes. However, you are still the woman I love. Still the woman I will love forever. With all my heart and soul.”

You gulped and stopped the tears in his eyes from falling with your thumb.

“Therefore, you don’t get to talk to me about leaving me alone. I don’t allow you to. Never will. You will do your best to fight and I will force you to marry me afterwards because oh boy, you are not escaping me from now on.”

You chuckled while tears streamed down your face and hugged him tightly.

You were confident that you would only marry him, despite your refusal to the concept of marriage, if you were allowed to see the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi again~ I would like to apologize for those inconvenienced by this fic. I was hesitant to publish it but came to do it somehow. For those that read through it thank you for taking your time to finish it and for those not, thank you for taking notice of the triggers and deciding what’s best for you.

P.S.: I don’t even know why I wrote something like this since this is a trigger for me too. God, why am I like this!?

See you soon~

#ateez x reader #choi san #choi san x reader #choi san angst #ateez san #kpop angst #atiny

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old-hyper-super-clover · 3 years ago

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Squeeze that bunny tail!

Part 1

Description: The RAD student council as well as the exchange students help out at a bar where, oops, the staff´s dress codes are those sweet bunny outfits that we all know and thirst for. The MCs, Violet and Clover, play a game of who can touch the most bunny tails over the evening without getting caught. Prepare for fluff, funny innuendos as well as my thirst over hot boys in bunny outfits.

The story is divided in several parts and will be updated every few days.

*I wrote this when the bunny UR+ cards first came out so there will be differences to the second event & their outfits

Story begins below the cut, have fun!

One fateful day, Diavolo had called his best friend Lucifer over to discuss a very urgent, utterly important matter...

"... A bar?" Lucifer repeated the prince's words.

"Yes!" Diavolo cheered.

"... And you want us to work there?"

"Yeah!"

"... Not only my brothers and me, but also all of the exchange students as well?"

"Strong yes! Barbatos and I will join, too."

"What? Are you sure? Should the prince of the Devildom really lower himself to such frivolous tasks?"

"Come on, Lucifer, it will be fun!"

Lucifer pressed out a deep sigh.

"... For you, perhaps... For me, it will be nothing but another day of babysitting a bunch of idiots..."

----------------

When the group arrived in the newly opened but already renowned bar, lots of them gave amazed gasps.

"It's huge!" Clover called out.

"And real fancy, too..." Mammon said, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

Belphie noticed how his brother was already searching for the most expensive decoration and gave an annoyed sigh. "Mammon's having idiot thoughts again..."

"All of you" Lucifer called out to the demons and humans living in the House of Lamentation. "I expect great manner from all of you. Lord Diavolo kindly asked us to help out with the grand opening of his acquaintance's bar. As it is the first day the place is opened to the general public, the owners asked him to offer help, and here we are. I would like to say that every item that gets broken or gets STOLEN", he shot Mammon an obvious glare, "will be repaid out of your own wallet. Furthermore, I am making you aware that..."

He kept talking for an unknown (but awfully long) amount of time, until Diavolo would pull him out of his ranting.

"Lucifer, relax! This is a laid-back place, I am sure everyone will do just fine. After all, we also have our kind Angel and Human friends to help."

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow.

"Is Luke allowed to be here, though? It's an adult place, after all..."

"Wha-?!" Some angry Chihuahua noises escaped Luke´s mouth. "I'm not a child, you know! Of course I am allowed to work here, show some respect!"

Simeon next to him gave the small blond a pat on his head while trying to bring the conversation back on track.

"Thank you for inviting us, Diavolo. Shall we get started, then? We don't have much time left until the first customers arrive."

They got shown around the whole place.

It consisted of two floors to sit in or play all sorts of bar games, a dance hall and a giant kitchen, serving all sorts of treats to go along with the (mostly alcoholic) beverages to buy from one of the even more impressive bars.

"The place looks pretty tame, though" Asmo pointed out as they had finished the tour.

"You think?!" Violet blinked at him. "I think it's amazing..."

"Asmo..." Satan mumbled. "I am pretty sure the places where you are a regular at are simply a little... special."

Completely ignoring the implications in Satan´s words, Asmodeus went on to ask the owner about whether they had what he called "fun rooms", which, yes, are just what you think they are.

They had to drag him back so they could finally be introduced to their work schedule.

"The bar is opened until four in the morning" Barbatos explained. "We will be working in shifts to maintain our stamina..."

Slowly, everything important had been settled, and the first bunch was about to start their shift.

But...

Well...

All this was a happening planned with the mind of Sir Diavolo himself...

So of course it wouldn't end up being a normal evening. It never did.

Just as the group wanted to leave the kitchen-strategy-meeting, Diavolo called out to them.

"Behold!" he prompted. "Are you planning to go out looking like THIS?"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, already alert at the smirk on his friend's face. "Oh no..."

Barbatos, who had shortly excused himself after explaining everything, entered the kitchen, now holding a piece of clothing in his hands.

"The waiters and waitresses at this pub are required a special working garment", Barbatos explained. "We have prepared suiting clothes in your respective sizes already."

"Cl...othes?" Violet dared to ask.

"Yes!" Diavolo beamed her a smile. "And after midnight, you change clothes once again. Those are a surprise, however, so you will have to be patient until then."

Solomon gave a contemplative hum.

"And... What are those garments, exactly?"

-------------

"... Violet?"

"... Clover?"

"... Do you have bunny ears in your outfit set, too?"

"... Yeah."

Silence.

They stepped out of the women's toilet stalls, mustering each other.

A frilly short skirt, a pretty blouse, a cute bow tie, and two bunny ears as well as a matching bunny tail.

"... Looks pretty good, though" Clover mumbled. "A little embarrassing, but oh well..."

They checked their outfits for a little longer in the mirror, adjusting their clothes...

"To think they'd make us wear stuff like this", Violet said.

"Yeah... Like, are we supposed to serve customers like this? And look all weird, just the two of us?" Clover played around with her new pair of ears.

"Dunno..." Violet breathed as she checked her make up. “I bet the boys will think we look…” she stopped.

Realisation hit them.

"Violet."

"Clover."

They dashed out of the bathroom.

And opening the door, they saw...

Bunny boys.

Ten of them, right there, in those... With those... Looking so…

Violet suppressed a squeal while Clover was hiding a heavy blush.

But there was no time to recover from this critical hit.

Already having spotted them, Asmodeus was bouncing towards them, his frilly, pretty revealing blouse swaying around his curves.

"Waah, you girls are bunnies, too~!"

He began to inspect them thoroughly, also pulling the attention of the other males towards them.

But with all the damn nice snacks around, the girls had troubles focussing on only Asmo as he continued to squeal something.

"Whyyyy do we have to do thiiiisss..." Levi groaned, visibly uncomfortable in his butler bunny suit.

Lucifer (very stunning view btw, chef's kiss) crossed his arms in a sigh.

"You heard Lord Diavolo... It seems to be common practice in this local to dress like this... But I'm starting to regret agreeing to help out..."

A hand gently placed on Lucifer's shoulder.

"Oh, come on, Lucy" Simeon smiled, brown bunny ears reaching out of his hair. "I think this suits you very well. You look cute."

This only pulled a greater sigh out the demon's throat, but he wasn't allowed to keep this frown any longer, as Diavolo and Barbatos joined the group soon after.

To the group's surprise, both of them were in similar suits as well.

"Wow, all of you look stunning!" Diavolo wore a big grin. "I knew it was a great idea to suggest a dress code!"

"That was your idea?!" Luke pouted, having whatever trouble with his costume (which btw was designed to be distinctively less... sexy than all of the other suits, don´t worry about the angel child). His floppy rabbit ears looked adorable, but it only added to the impression that he shouldn't be here, serving alcohol for the next hours...

"Of course", Diavolo cheered. "They say good-looking staff makes more profit, and I want this evening to be a success."

-------------------

"I heard the place was designed to imitate a classic bar from the human world."

Initiating a conversation, Satan was preparing glasses at the bar together with Violet, Clover and a few of his brothers.

"Is it normal for the staff to look like this in the human world?" he asked, quite amused to watch the girls' bunny ears bounce with their movements. "Not that I'm complaining... I just figured you must know."

"... You´re asking US? Do we look like we party a lot?" Clover mumbled.

Violet gave a shrug. "It's kind of a... Classic costume to go with, but I don't think it's really that common with humans, too."

The demon gave a nod, then excused himself as Levi was calling for him on the other side of the bar.

And now that the girls had some time for themselves again, they could finally let out their inner fangirls.

Basically just giving weird noises, exchanging a few completely out of context words that only two minds speaking the same language of stupid could understand, they gushed about all the males surrounding them.

"Clover oh my god I-" Violet whispered in a gasp. "I love the tails."

"And the ears" Clover agreed.

"And the vests."

"The bow ties."

"But the fluffly TAiLs oh myyy..."

"Lolll I bet you wanna squish them-"

"YEEssssSSSSS..."

Afraid someone might notice, they tried calming down. But as if the universe was trying to keep them agitated, Beel happened to pass by, stopping next to them to organise the bottles in the display shelves behind them.

The girls turned, mustering the male...

Suddenly, Violet's expression curled into a sly grin, thinking of the huge crush Clover had on Beelzebub. She leaned in on Clover to whisper in her ear.

"Squeeze his tail..."

Clover's eyes widened as she started to blush.

"What?! No..." she whispered back.

"I know you want to~", Violet continued to purr in amusement.

"Sh-shut up...!" Clover grumbled.

"Come ooon..."

"Y-you do it if you're so tough...!", Clover pouted.

Her friend only gave a shrug, stepping closer to the demon as she nonchalantly reached for the bunny tail attached to his pants.

Of course, Beel noticed her presence.

"Violet?" he blinked in surprise, but apparently did not register how Violet pulled her arm back immediately.

She shot him a smile.

"Hey, Beel, could you... hand me that bottle in the upper shelf? Asmo said he needed it over there."

"Sure."

And as the male reached for the bottle, Violet took the chance to squeeze that fluffy pompom.

"Thanks" she cheered, then went to grab Clover to disappear from the scene of crime.

Violet couldn't quite wipe the victorious grin off her face.

Clover on the other hand...

"I hate everything", she pouted.

"You should have just went for it" Violet laughed. "It's like this game we used to play in the human world when everyone is wearing hats with pompoms during winter. Just that here, it’s a bunny tail that you had to squish.”

"But..." Clover sulked, like always sad that she wasn´t brave enough to do what Violet asked her to do.

So Violet mustered her friend...

Then, an idea hit her.

"You know what, actually?" Violet said. "I dare you to squish a tail."

Clover made a weird sound.

"What?! Nooo... You know I'm awkward..."

"And let's make it a game!"

"... Are you even listening to me?"

Apparently, she wasn´t.

"Whoever manages to squeeze the most bunny tails wins -- without the person noticing, of course." Violet was grinning from ear to ear.

Clover gave a big sigh.

"... The tails from either of the boys?" She finally gave in.

"Yeah, let's."

"... Would you voluntarily go up to your crush Lucifer and risk your life?"

Violet's face turned into a conflicted blush.

"I..." she mumbled in an unconvincing shrug. "Maybe...?"

"They should have different difficulty levels", Clover suggested. "Giving different amounts of points,, depending on how difficult we consider the squeeze-ability of a tail."

----------

Don't ask how or why... (And how they found the time to come up with this madness)

But in the end, the two girls had invented a game to keep them entertained for the next couple of hours.

They came up with a plan for the "bunny tail squeeze point distribution":

1 point: Beel, Belphie, Simeon, Levi (+), Asmo (+)

2 points: Mammon, Satan (+), Barbatos, Luke (V)

3 points: Lucifer, Solomon, Diavolo, Luke (C)

"The plus stands for a potential to increase in points, as those three are a little difficult to analyse. We'll count it depending on the situation and their wariness..." Clover concluded as she showed Violet the notes she had taken on a beer coaster. "And Luke's on there twice because I'm a fucking giraffe and get a bonus point if I can reach that Chihuahua’s tail. And thaaat... Would be all."

Violet squealed in excitement.

"Great, then let's go!"

Clover gave a last sigh, knowing what difficulties she'd have with this.

"This is SO going to end in some disaster..."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obeyme #short story #obey me bunny event

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bloody-bella · 3 years ago

Note

bestie, it is your time to get vibe-checked, today!

so you better have kept yourself hydrated and positive, because if you didn't, I am about to come to you and shower you in affection and good things because you deserve it!

(but aside the clownery, I do hope that you are feeling and doing more than alright, because you deserve only the best)

(also sorry for following you right now, my bird brain was sure that I was already following you, but guess who can't remember where they have their glasses, meanwhile wearing them on their faces?)

(spoiler: it's me)

(I am not mean, just very dumb).

but aside this I just wanted to thank you for your reblog, because I am already feeling a lot better and honestly I have been slowly coming back to normal (which means going back to thirsting over fictional characters).

still thank you for your offers and you just being you, I truly appreciate it, more than words can explain (because I, as Alucard, am also a repressed idiot with tits).

(also I feel like if Alucard got involved in the whole 'Sukuna and Dracula competition on who is the biggest simp' it'd end up being the most adorable and heartbreaking thing ever, because I feel like Sukuna would be like 'YOU HAVE A CHILD?! WE COULD HAVE A CHILD?!' and then turns to reader '... a little daughter just like you...')

(I know I wrote about Sukuna with a son... but him with a daughter? it just gives me the idea that reader would have to do with a spoiled brat #2 - Sukuna is the first - because there is no way this big bad curse can discipline his adorable daughter... no she just pouted at him... he couldn't be mean with her...).

(my mind is going like 'no inspiration for you' when writing about Sukuna right now, but... I am storing all of this for later, no worries)

ok sorry for dumping all of this onto you, I shall take my leave and I shall also wish you the bestest of days, bestie, because that's what you absolutely deserve for dealing with him and being the most precious creature ever!

have a lovely day!

-𝒪𝒸𝓉𝒶𝓋𝒾𝒶

Bestie, you better believe I always try to stay hydrated… positivity needs some work but I’ll pull through 😤 also sorry for the late reply it’s been hectic lately 🥴 but! for good reason since I’ve finally ✨graduated✨

And don’t worry about the follow! I love your beautiful bird brain, even when it messes up! (when I tell you the amount of times I’d be looking for my phone without realizing it was in my hand AND THEN proceed to think “lemme call it” and not notice the damn thing till I realize I’m using it)

And I’m glad you’ve been feeling a lot better 😌 and even to the point of continuing regular simping but I’m always here for you! 😤

Sukuna realizing that he’s been one-upped by lacking a spawn is peak comedy 😩 but also very cute when he wants a daughter to resemble reader??? 😭 Sukuna and his son is just Menace duo; HOWEVER, Sukuna and his daughter are just King of Curses and Princess of curses 😌 (gives me very much “I Was Born a King’s Daughter” vibes tbh)

(Feel free to store all of this info for future use 😩 inspiration is fleeting so gather all the tidbits you can and hope for the best LOL)

Thank you for the well wishes bestie 🥰 as always I hope you take ultra special care of yourself!! 💕 sending so many hugs and kisses to you!

♡〜（ゝ。∂)☆

#bestie octavia #got vibe checked #but very lovingly

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babyybitchhh · 3 years ago

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I’m relatively sure none of my followers will care but what is Tumblr for if not screaming into the void? Anyway, I impulsively started watching the OG Dragon Ball series back in August and I have been pleasantly surprised at how good it actually is. I don’t know what exactly I expected from THE biggest name in the anime industry worldwide but I have been consistently surprised by not only its overall charm but also the quality of the animation.

Considering it started airing in 1986, and I’ve seen plenty of other titles from this time period, I was a little caught off guard by how fluid and lively it can be at times, and with some regularity at that. Overall, it’s been a really good watch so far and I’m glad I chose this for my next long haul anime. For whatever reason, I have a habit of immersing myself in long running titles when I’m feeling some type of way and believe it or not it actually does help me reorient myself though I can’t exactly explain why. 😅

I have no idea what I’m gonna’ do with myself when I eventually exhaust all my available options at some point in the future but we’ll just cross that bridge when we get there lmao

But to get to the main point, you know I can’t watch something with a bunch of buff dudes beating the shit out of each other without developing A Thirst for a few of them, and I actually went into this with a certain amount of curiosity regarding Vegeta. He was the first anime character I consciously daydreamed about in a self insert kind of way (innocently, mind you, because I was like 7 or 8 at the time lmao) and I’ve been eager to find out if he still gives me the doki doki’s and in what way since I’ll be looking at him through the eyes of an adult now.

Unfortunately, I have to get through almost 200 episodes before I can meet him again. 😂 But I’ll circle back around to that here in a sec.

Working my way through the first few arcs, I unexpectedly found myself really quite taken by Yamcha which is not an interest I can say I had beforehand. His himbo behavior is admittedly quite appealing to me and while I wouldn’t say I’m head over heels, I do like him quite a bit. I’m well aware of all the jokes surrounding him but I didn’t watch DBZ religiously enough when it was on Toonami* to really understand why he has the reputation he does so as of this moment all I’m seeing is a good boy doing his best in these streets. The fact he cut his hair entirely at Bulma’s request just to make her happy assures me his heart is in the right place and I appreciate him for that.

*I want to make it clear that I was a very casual viewer back in the day. The arc I was most up to date with at any given point was the Namek saga so I’m going into this more or less blind. I remember catching bits of the fight with Raditz and I distinctly recall Vegeta and Nappa landing on earth (and all the warm fuzzy feelings I got every time Vegeta said or did anything lmao) but my experience with them was very incomplete. Likewise, I only caught bits and pieces of the Buu and Cell arcs but as it just so happened Cartoon Network was airing the Namek saga at like three or four in the morning during one of my summer breaks from school so I would say I got to watch probably 70% of it in it’s entirety. Which definitely helped my crush on Vegeta 😂

But anywho, Yamcha is currently the only valid thirst option where I’m at and he seems to have already been relegated to a background character so I don’t have a whole lot going on in that regard. I will say, however, that I am absolutely obsessed with baby Goku. 😭 He’s so cute I almost don’t know what to do with myself. Just last night I watched the episode where they had to escape from an undersea cave that was actively collapsing and he stopped to look for a mouse he’d seen so he could save its life and I just … I’ve only had baby Goku for about three months now but if anything were to happen to him I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself. Such a good boy.

Back to the topic of thirst though … 👀 I just happened to see a thread on /a/ the other day talking about how Vegeta’s character has changed so much between his debut and now, and seeing those screenshots of how he looked in the Saiyan and Namek arcs really flipped a switch in my brain. People rarely seem to focus on that time period of the storyline in favor of more recent events (understandable, considering how old they are and the fact they’ve probably been discussed to the point of nausea already) but my interest was officially peaked, so of course my curious ass started looking through his tag here on Tumblr and phew girl 😮‍💨

I’m a little shook at how intensely my attraction has resparked just from these breadcrumbs and I’m more excited than ever to get to his introduction. I think I’ve still got something like 140 episodes to go, which is definitely a little rough, but I’m here for it either way. Lol I will say though, I’m a LITTLE surprised at how few self insert fics there are for the series but also this is a trend I’ve noticed with other long running shonen of the past as well. One Piece, Naruto, Bleach - these fandoms by and large seem to be more interested in canon character shipping, which is certainly valid, but it also just goes to show how (for lack of a better term) revolutionary the current fandom landscape actually is.

It’s basically a given now that modern shonen, in particular, will produce a slew of self insert content once they reach a certain level of popularity and I just think that’s so very sexy that we’ve collectively decided to forego using a canon character to vicariously live through (the first example to come to mind is Sakura, I know y’all don’t ship her with every single attractive character under the sun just because - and the wild discrepancy in her characterization is further proof of that, these people are not slick when they’re pairing her with Kakashi, Shikamaru, Kiba, Sasori, Itachi, Madara, etc but completely ignoring the dudes who aren’t widely considered good looking like Choji and Lee) (that being said, I respect the fuck out of people who do ship Sakura and Lee because they’re speaking their truth unapologetically and I think you can tell it’s not coming from a self insert angle but rather a genuine interest in the ship itself but anyway) I cannot stress how, like … frowned upon self inserting used to be. It was absolutely the minority in every single fandom and the oftentimes cringe worthy OC’s people would make did NOT help the overall opinion towards them either. It was much more acceptable to pick a female character you related to, or was most readily available to ship with your man of choice, and just live your best life through them. I, personally, always had a hard time vibing with this because I just can’t put myself in Sakura’s shoes like that and on the flip side it was nigh impossible to immerse in the OC content because they were not the (ideally) blank slates of today but rather Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way levels of wtf is even going on here.

Basically what I’m saying is that this generation of fandom peeps have really perfected the self insert experience in a way that I could have only dreamed of in the past, and every time I look into an older series with plenty of hot dudes to go around I’m reminded of just how bleak those days actually were. Hero Academia, Jojo, Haikyuu, etc have gone a long way in normalizing the idea of just going all in instead of keeping up the pretense or masking our intentions for the sake of being seen as “acceptable” by the rest of the fandom - and I know there are still people out there who snub their nose at self inserters but the sheer amount of staying power y’all have exhibited has been genuinely inspiring. I can honestly say that I probably never would have gotten back into writing had it not been for the blogs churning out more self shipping content than I could keep up with for OsoSan which unequivocally told me, hey. You’re not the only one who would rather fuck that man yourself with no canon character or overly detailed OC to get in the way. Just you and that good good 2D dick. 😩

TL;DR - I’m currently finding myself smitten with Vegeta all over again and the slim pickings of self insert content is reminding me how much I love and appreciate you guys, and yes it’s inspiring me to get back on the saddle again. I love being able to read and share thirst with everyone here, and as someone who knows too well how disappointing it is to have a hard time finding content for your fave it always fills me with such joy when I can give someone else that hit of serotonin. 🥰 Hugs and kisses, I WILL be back in full force soon and thank you to everyone who’s waited for me.

#this turned out longer than I intended but I’m unexpectedly excited to talk about Dragon Ball #and although I doubt many of my followers will give two shits about the series as a whole it’s always these little things that sort of #knock me back onto the right trajectory #I think I just get so caught up in my own head sometimes that it takes a spark of inspiration to snap me out of it and realize how much #enjoyment I get out of participating in fandom nowadays especially compared to how it was before #but yeah I’m gonna sit down and work on the requests for have left from #my celebration event I have NOT forgotten about you guys 👏😤#also sorry about the lack of a read more I’m on mobile but I’ll try to go back in and add one as soon as I’m able to #baby bitch watches dragon ball

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levyfiles · 5 years ago

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I want to start a shyan blog but I’m so scared because I don’t know how Shane and Ryan actually feel about it which makes me nervoussssssss help

Ohhh boy, brace yourself, nonnyhunny. I’ve got some word vomit for ya

To start off with, I just want anyone and everyone who is currently new to navigating this terrain we call the internet to know one thing and that is this one very important concept. Embrace your own insignificance! The internet is a big place. I once read a post on here that encouraged new users to think of Tumblr itself like you’re walking into a Walmart. You’re not here to make friends and you’re not here to shop for everyone else; you’re filling your own cart with the things you need and like and if someone comes along and takes a long good look at the things in your cart and says, “WOAH there, eating trans fats is unhealthy for you! I never eat trans fats because of a big list of reasons! Stop buying trans fats!!” you’re gonna be both puzzled and annoyed because it’s your cart, your Walmart experience; why the hell do they care what you’re gonna get?

However! I get it, the internet is now comprised of six different websites/apps and if you’re on there, there is no way to avoid or curate a completely ideal sense that you’ve made a space that’s all your own. There are going to be people who disagree with you, people who decide they don’t like what you do, but ultimately, in the midst of all that, you’re going to find people who feel the same in whatever regard you express yourself and that’s why it’s important to just express yourself because otherwise you’re going to develop a lot of disingenuous connections with people who would likely try to ruin your life if you disagree with them on some subject or other.

Now with that whole disclaimer in mind, I also understand where you’re coming from. Putting myself in the shoes of someone just trying to participate in a new fandom where there is a lot of contention among the masses about the rights and wrongs of RPF and whether the concept fits in with a philosophical debate about human nature and the way we interact with each other, witness each other’s journeys. That’s simply it, however; it’s an ongoing debate and where philosophy and debate are concerned, I always hold the belief that an individual’s right to ground themselves and say “These are the principles I wish to abide by” is sacred and ultimately, no amount of anonymous hatred or shrieking messages of outrage is gonna change that until you yourself decide that the principle isn’t working for you personally. My principle is that it’s fiction; an AU to explore as valid and sweet to me as demon!Shane headcanons are, but moreso because I identify with queer love stories and friendships forged by strangely deep similarities and complementing souls. I also love personalities like theirs, love the idea of said friendship and what it would bring to a story about two human beings who meet by happenstance and end up building something world-changing together. Still, because I am just a writer and a consumer of media, that’s the nicest thing I can give myself, a fictional account of these things while witnessing the real version happen in parallel. I get to celebrate in the overlap of similarities the real world and my fictional account take and watch it inspire my friends and mutuals to build their own universes and it’s beautiful.

With that point being made, I also understand the reason a lot of people are nervous about being open about shipping. The backlash from a bunch of strangers seems to take on a note that would make even the nicest person sound like a puritan about to hold some extravagant witch trials. Nothing more interesting than a person claiming to do good in the world using words like “exterminate” “cleanse” or my personal favourite “purge”. I’ve read rumours being spread about shippers that take on their own life especially because it’s human nature to let other people handle the research; it’s human nature to just take a believable narrative at face value. One rumour being that shippers of this fandom write stories where we kill off Shane and Ryan’s significant others. Myself and my friends who are avid readers of the ao3 tag know that that hasn’t been the case since 2016/17 and by all accounts, I have yet to find the fic where this happens (barring a tinsworth fic I’ve only heard about). Mind you, not many of us check out Wattpad but even there it’s more self-insert friendly with themes I can’t even stomach.

Which leads me to the last point and the main reason you sent this ask, I’m assuming. Ryan and Shane’s personal thoughts on the issue. Now, it behooves me to supply screenshots and proof when I make a claim but let’s consider if instead from the perspective of two adult men who have operated online far longer than a lot of their audience. Given that I am the same age as Shane, I know what the internet used to look like and how far it’s come and RPF is not a brand new thing neither did it pop up out of nowhere when One Direction debuted. And just like fanfiction in and of itself had its pushback from media because of its demographic and absolutely because of its queer-leanings, RPF appears to get a lot of that same energy, but it’s not an inherently toxic past time. Much like any fandom activity, it can get bad because fandom is not a monolith; it’s a bunch of individuals enjoying a medium in the ways they have learned to. You’re gonna get some individuals who “do it wrong” and some who do it differently, but ultimately, just like the forums and the reddit threads Shane and Ryan trawl in their past time, there are circles you learn not to veer into and terms you learn to blacklist/block/mute. With that being an indication of where they’re coming from as internet creators, I am confident when I say that, as long as it’s not being mailed to them, linked or quoted at them, they don’t care. They would know something that gets popular on the internet summons a brand of transformative art and fiction but much like they tend to ignore thirst tweets in their mentions or the repetitive requests for the same things over and over. They’d see it and gloss right over it. Shane is the type who writes long essays on reddit addressing the things that bother him, Ryan is weird and vocal and an oversharer sometimes when it comes to things Shaniacs say to him (i.e. that Voice he did for the occasional Shaniac who approaches him). It’s just one of the incarnations of fandom that they choose not to engage with, which, good? Because it’s a fan-specific activity. Once in a while you get a creator who wants to interact with fanfiction and it goes sideways because not all stories are written for them, much like not all fanart is made with the mindset to share with them.

It’s just a regular old fan interaction and community habit that builds bigger followings.

All in all, I’m not gonna tell you what to do. Unless you mean to be in their @’s all the time or link them on discord, or put any of your content in their hands, they are not going to see it. They don’t care. What they do care about is that you’re watching, that you support them and send them encouragement because they’re creating their own medium of content and a bigger following means more people get to see it and extract something positive from it.

#shyan #discourse #Anonybae

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ancientwastedlores · 4 years ago

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The Support System

SUMMARY: The Avengers have managed to collect all the infinity stones across the universe, and are currently keeping them in far corners of the world, only for research and to see if they can improve the planet and its people. Reader is a researcher with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, as well as a field agent. Loki is currently serving time for his actions in New York City in 2012.

A/N: You can find the same fic on A03, if you prefer that. Let me know if you like this and I’ll keep posting more :)

Chapter: 1/?

Warnings: N/A

Audience: general.

_______________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 1:

‘So we’re close!?’

‘Absolutely, we just have to crack it and baby’s gonna sing’ Tony smiles. ‘I’m good for a drink right about now’.

‘Me too’ you take off your safety goggles and place them on the your immaculately organized workspace. ‘Bruce?’

‘Yeah, I’ll join you’ he waves one hand in the air as he stares at the Reality Gem.

You and Tony leave the lab and head to the bar. ‘Beer?’ you ask, handing him a bottle. He takes it, you get yourself a can, and sit down on the couch.

‘How’s it going with Nat?’ he asks.

‘Great, we expect to be ready in a month to carry out the extraction’.

‘I can’t wait’ Tony’s eyes gleam like an excited child’s. ‘We’ve been tracking these guys for a year now, the tech they’ve managed to get their hands on is insane’.

‘Okay, I get why you want it…’

‘Research purposes, of course!’

‘Of course…’ you grin, knowing that research is never ALL Stark wants shiny new toys for, ‘but I do want to remind you that you did promise me and Natasha a whole day of playing with them before you break them apart’.

‘In a contained, safe environment’

‘Yes. I’m just reminding you because you do get excited’.

Tony chuckles and takes a swig from beer. ‘Next month can’t get here soon enough. But you sure you’re ready?’

‘Oh absolutely. You’ve been tracking them for a year, and we’ve been training for a year. Ask me anything’.

‘How do you hold the Chitauri M7 Blaster?’

You stand up, set your beer down on the table and position your right leg before your left, then stretch out your right arm while tucking your left wrist under your right elbow and having your fingers wiggle from underneath. It looks ridiculous without the weapon, so Tony laughs. You laugh too and sit back down.

It’s been a year and three months since you were recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D. You were originally a member of Maria Hill’s team, but three months later, after Tony Stark found some papers you wrote in secret about the sentience of all the Infinity Stones, as well as your records of correspondence with Doctor Strange, he decided your talents were better put to use in his lab with himself and Bruce Banner. Not wanting to abandon your role as a field agent, Tony offered you an apprenticeship with Natasha Romanova, which you gladly accepted.

Tony teased you for being taller than most of the agents and Avengers initially, until Thor showed up and stole your thunder, pun intended. You have broad shoulders, stand at 5’ 12”, and have jet black hair till your shoulders, which you mostly keep open, because you like how it frames your face. You love that people find you intimidating and hardly talk to you, when the truth is you’re the total opposite, a fact only known by Tony and a few Avengers.

‘Who else are you planning to send for the extraction?’ you ask.

‘You and Nat, of course. Then Clint. Thor might be able to help with the handling of the alien tech, so him. Couple of other S.H.I.E.L.D agents led by Hill’.

You smile at the thought of getting to meet Maria Hill again. She was your first mentor, and taught you nearly everything you know about fighting.

‘What about Loki?’ you ask.

‘I thought of it and decided against it. This is a sensitive operation, and surrounded by all those weapons, if he gets any ideas, you’ll all be at risk’.

‘I’m sure he won’t, he’s been doing well. But it’s your call’ you finish your beer. ‘Back to work?’

After spending another six hours at the lab with Tony and Bruce, you three finally call it a day and head back to your rooms. After getting to yours, you take a long shower, strings of theories on how you could crack the reality stone running through your head. You decide to get another drink, a cocktail perhaps, before curling up with some research papers Doctor Strange sent over.

You walk over to the bar in the residence wing of the tower, sure that it would be empty at this time on a weekday. Just before you reach the entrance, though, you hear two people fight.

‘…it was irresponsible and childish, and you could have gotten them killed!’ Thor’s voice booms. You decide to listen. ‘If I hadn’t taken it from her hand, she would have died anyway!’ Loki responded. ‘You let ME handle it then’. ‘Right, because I can never do anything right, can I, brother?’

Silence. ‘Just let me handle it next time. You do not involve yourself unless expressly asked’. Thor storms out from the other side of the bar, leaving Loki alone. Your own experiences with being grossly misunderstood makes you feel for Loki. You walk into the bar.

Loki doesn’t notice until you get close. ‘What do you want’ he asks, tired.

You go closer and envelope him in a tight hug. Shocked, Loki freezes. ‘What are you doing’ he whispers, fake annoyance in his tone.

‘Nothing’ you pull back. ‘I came to make myself a drink, do you want one?’ ‘No’ he said defiantly. You shrug and go behind the bar to get some cranberry juice. ‘Yes’ he says, in a softer tone. You smile.

You proceed to make yourselves a vodka cranberry. You would normally make it in a regular glass, but because you think Loki needs cheering up, you pour it in a Martini cocktail glass with an unnecessary amount of umbrellas to make him laugh. You manage to get a small smile as you slide his drink across the bar.

‘Thank you’ he says.

You take a sip of your own drink. ‘Wanna talk about it?’

His silence is answer enough, and you know not to push. ‘No worries’ you say. ‘How’s the drink? Want another?’

He nods. You make him another one while sipping from your glass.

‘I’ve been in the tower a while’ he says finally. ‘Yes, I know’. ‘I’m still looked at with nothing but suspicion’. You sigh. ‘I know. They’re only afraid’. ‘I’ve been painfully patient. I just don’t have anybody on my side to vouch for me’. ‘Oh’ is that it you think. He just needs a P.R. agent. You chuckle at the thought. ‘Is that funny?’ he asks. ‘No, I just thought of a thing. But I can do it’. ‘Do what?’ ‘Vouch for you. Be your uh… image manager. Whatever’.

Loki narrows his eyes at you. Even though he’s known you for about a year, this is the first time you’ve actually spoken to him. He can’t understand why you would help him.

‘Alright’ he says. He finishes the second drink as well. You ask if he wants another, and he just holds his glass out to you. ‘Something stronger this time?’

About six drinks later, Loki has a good buzz going, and you are not even close to tipsy. You roll your eyes at him, cursing your high capacity for alcohol, but deciding you’ve had enough of it, you tell Loki you’re off to bed and you’ll see him in the morning.

‘Let me walk you to your room’ he offers. You accept.

You absolutely love your room; an entire section of the room is just glass, overlooking the city of New York. It gets hot during the days, but it looks magical at night. Once you’ve reached your room, you stretch, take off all your clothes, and get under your blankets. It’s quite late, so you decide to keep the research papers Strange sent over for the morning.

A few hours later, just as you feel like you might fall asleep, you hear a knock on the door. You groan and reach for your phone to check the time. 3:35 AM.

‘Who is it?’ you call out. ‘Loki’

You know for a fact he has never felt comfortable enough to go to anyone’s room at 3:30 in the morning in the Tower.

‘One sec’ you call out, hopping out of bed to retrieve your shirt and a pair of shorts. You dive back under the covers and yell ‘Come in!’.

Loki looks like he has sobered up, and smells like he just took a shower. He shuts the door softly and makes his way to your bed.

‘What’s wrong?’ you ask.

He sits on the corner of your bed, next to your feet, so far that he looks supremely uncomfortable.

‘You can sit normally, you know. I won’t get offended’.

He obliges by placing himself further towards the centre of the bed, while still maintaining his corner. ‘Thank you’.

‘What’s wrong?’ ‘I couldn’t sleep, I just wanted to talk. I hope I didn’t wake you’. ‘You didn’t’ you say, ‘What did you want to talk about?’ ‘I-‘ he hesitates, ‘Well. I- I wasn’t in control in New York’. ‘Uhuh…’ ‘I was made to do it. I know that’s a lame excuse but it’s true. Thanos found me when I got lost and he… tortured me. But I can’t tell anybody that because they wouldn’t listen’. ‘Who’s Thanos?’ you ask.

Loki proceeds to tell you about the Mad Titan who killed his own people, his thirst for power over the entire universe, his obsession with the Goddess of Death, and his children. You listen in stunned silence. Thanos’ children inflicted unmentionable torture on Loki when he fell from the Bifrost.

As Loki recounts these events, tears start to fall, and he is visibly shaking. You scoot closer to him and hold his hands. ‘It’s alright’.

He stops to sniff, and catch his breath. ‘Do you want to go on?’ you ask.

‘Yes please’.

You don’t let go of his hands for the remainder of his story.

Once it looks like he has finished, you hand him a few tissues from your nightstand. He wipes his face clean and hands them back to you. You turn to throw them.

‘Why are you listening to me?’ he asks. ‘I don’t see why I shouldn’t’ you say simply. ‘It’s only the decent thing to do’. ‘No one else seems to think so’ he says bitterly. ‘Like I said, they’re scared’ you say. ‘Why aren’t you, then?’

You shrug. He looks at you. Your room is dark, but some light from the city spills into the room, so he gets a good look at your features. They only look at him with kindness. No fear. ‘Seriously. Why aren’t you afraid of me? What happened to you?’

You quickly look away. ‘Nothing like that. I just don’t scare easy’.

He says nothing. A few minutes pass in silence. You stifle a yawn. The watch says 4:45 AM. You’ve got a long day at the lab, and then with Natasha, and then at the lab again. You need to catch at least a little sleep.

‘Listen…’ you look back at him. ‘Do you want to sleep here, next to me?’

He widens his eyes in surprise. ‘You’d do that for me?’

‘Yeah’ you say, not really seeing the big deal. You move to the right side of the bed and pat the left as if to indicate that he may lay down there. He moves up to the pillow and lays his head on it, then settles the rest of his body down. You feel the bed dip.

#loki fluff #loki fanfic #marvel #Avengers #loki x reader #loki x you #marvel fan fiction #tom hiddleston #loki fandom

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starcrossedyanderes · 4 years ago

Text

The Wedding Part 2

Part 1; unedited.

Word Count: 2,563 words

Note: So I reread the first part and oh boy can my writing get bad whilst I am tired. Later I’ll edit it or straight up rewrite, but for now I’ll get this saga done before that stuff happens.

Also the vows in this are inspired by the vows from “The Corpse Bride” but overall have been written by me.

I also just finished this at 12:24 AM and I am currently too tired to edit this and Xavier may have loosed his accents at some part and I don’t care cause I’m sweepy. And enjoy cause after this it’s Xavier with kids. That should be coming out Wednesday and on Monday it’s “Beauty and The Birds”

The doors swung open and a single white heel stepped forward.

It was too late. You could no longer run away.

A band off in the distance were playing an oh-so-hauntingly-familiar song as your feet automatically took you forward.

You thanked the veil that covered part of your face. For you do not think you could bare to stare into all of those eyes. For now, the world truly had their eyes on you.

Your heels did not make a sound on the long rug and the whole hall was silent except for the insturments that played. You could see the lights reflecting on the countless jewel you wore. From the ring on your finger, to the small jewels embedded on your ivory dress, and even on the large diamond that laid on purple velvet on your chest.

You refused to meet those emerald eyes of his and instead swept to the aisles; where all your ‘beloved’ guests sat.

There were a plethora of older women with abnormally larges hat that one would see at the Kentucky Derby. A lot of younger women sat tall with dresses that had seemed to imitate your own while others tried to out do with the flashiest dresses they can. You dully noted the lack of white and purple dresses in the crowd which you quickly acredited to the memory of some guards dragging an ivory-clad woman down the hall.

Sprinkled in you could what caused your mouth to dry and your hands to shake. Large black, square boxes stared at you with a glemaing center like that of a black hole. Behind them only part of faces could be seen as a million of other faces stared back at you.

Your eyes momentarilly swept over the converted throne room and could see why such a hefty price tag was assigned. Such extravagant bouquets lining the aisles and such minute details that can not be seen by the normal human eye.

Even in it’s guadiness you had to admit it was quite beautiful.

As you neared closer and closer to the altar you could seen those who sat in the front row. Seated there was the Queen and King of Colvakia, Xavier’s parents. And to your shock and horror next to them sat your very own parents.

But alas, only so much time could be bought and you had no choice to look up into those accursed green eyes.

His eyes were gentle as they looked at your veil and you could see a small, gentle smile coming on his face. He wore a black prince uniform that had the Devorsky family crest with plentious amounts of gold embrodiery. With a golden chain of sorts his red cape with a fur collar hung on one shoulder before it spread around him. You noted with gulp that he also had golden scabbard on him as well.

Next to him you noted with an almost smile stood his most beloved pet, Ivory. Normal a peacock would be quite odd at a wedding but since it seemed the Devorsky’s had some sort of connection with the birds and it would not be all too suprising.

With some deep breaths you climbed up the marble stairs with only the boquet you held in your hands to sturdy you. All that was up there was the altar, the thrones, a priest, a table with various items, Ivory, and of course Xavier. No bridesmaids in sight, not even a groomsmen either. If you recalled this was tradition for the royals here as all attention should be on those who are getting wed.

You finally reached the platform and was forced to face in Xavier’s direction as the music stopped and the older man started to speak.

Your hands were quickly swallowed up in Xavier’s as he massaged your skin and the ring worn on your finger.

The table at the side was moved over a bit as the part you almost dreaded the most was coming.

Xavier let go of your hand as the two of you looked over all the items laid out in front of you before your hand was grabbed again and Xavier began to speak.

“With this hand I will lift all your sorrows.”

Your held hand was lifted high in the sky as all the people and cameras watched. Your hand was let go in favor of him grabbing a bottle of wine sitting nearby as he poured the tiniest amount into a golden cup.

“You will never thirst, for I will be your wine.”

The cup was brought to your lips as the small drop fell down your throat.

“With this candle I will light our way through the darkness.”

With a quick strike of a nearby match that he lit the white candle to a flame.

“And with my whole being I shall be your brace.”

He now reached out to grab a delicately intertwined golden tiara with pieces of blue gold and other blue stones laid inside from a large cushion.

“It is with this crown that I entrust you with not only myself but our people.”

The tiara was carefully lifted up before replacing the tiara that laid on your head.

He then grabbed the small box that sat front and center on the table before flipping it up and gently placing a russian ring that looked to have to multiple rings of blue gold and regular gold all twisted and connected over each other.

“And it is with this ring that I ask you to wholly be mine.”

He fully let go of your hand as he stared at you in pure excitement for what is to come next. You on the other hand dreaded it as you repeated the lines over and over in your head, knowing a single mishap could cause someone’s death.

You took a deep breath before willingly grabbing Xavier’s hand for quite possibly the first time as you said your vows.

“With this hand I will lead you through all trials”

Like him you lifted his hand high in the sky before placing it back down to tear off a small piece from the loaf of bread that sat next to the wine.

“And you shall never hunger, for I will be your bread.”

You grabbed the near match and with a quick stroke the thing became engulfed in flames before placing it on the black wick.

“It is with this candle that I shall light our kingdom through the darkness.

And it is with my whole being that shall also be your brace.”

Your hands shook as you reached out to the golden stick that laid on a velvet cushion before handing it to Xavier.

“It is with this scepter that I entrust you with the prosperity of a kingdom.”

He gladly gripped it in his non-ring finger hand as he stuck out his other hand expectantly; practically giddy with excitement. You flipped open the small box and grabbed onto the identical ring before sliding into onto one of Xavier’s always perfectly manicured nails.

“And it is with this ring that I ask you to become my partner through all that is to come.”

You could tell that at the moment he was barely controlling his inner teenage girl that wants to go ‘eeeeeh!’ into a pillow at the slightest bit of acknowledgment from their crush. But despite this fact he barely kept himself together as the priest sad a few more words before the two of you tore off a piece from the slice of pomegranate before you; the last unused item on the table.

“It is with this pomegranate that our marriage will last through sickness, health, prosperity, and strife. May Hades let us be together whether in heaven or in hell.”

At the same time you both placed the piece of pomegranate into your mouths and started to eat it as you both turned your attention to the priest as the ceremony was finally closing up.

The priest spoke up.

“And it is with this kiss that you, Xavier Devorsky, will take (Y/n) (L/n) as both your wife, and queen. (Y/n) (L/n), with this kiss you will not only let Xavier Devorsky be both your husband and king, but you will also be marrying all of the people of this kingdom. You shall be entrusted with millions of lives and they all shall trust in you. Do you, Prince Xavier Devorsky, accept?”

Without even a second to wait he responded.

“Yes.”

“And do you, (Y/n) (L/n) accept?”

You waited for a few seconds longer than you should have; despite you already having made your decision long ago. Xavier’s eyes morphed into a glare for a split second before it went back to normal as you said your answer.

“I do.”

“And it is with the power invested in me by the holy one himself to bless this marriage and allow you to kiss the bride.”

Your waist was quickly grabbed and was practically thrown to Xavier’s hip as he quickly pressed his lips onto yours in by far the fiercest kiss he has ever given you before pulling back with a ‘mwah’.

Cheers erupted within the building and you would not be suprised if all of Russia could hear the screams. Xavier quickly turned back to the aisle and gripped onto your hand as you were forced to walk with him back down the aisle with Ivory close behind as some person over the speakers said something or another to the people still in the room.

As the door slammed shut behind you Xavier couldn’t help but to gush a bit.

“ohmygoshohmygosh ohmygoshohmygosh we’re married. We’re actually married.”

He grabbed your arms once again as he twirled the two of your around a bit as your dress swirled around the two of you.

Xavier now carefully lifted off the veil from you and placed into a cushion held by who you assumed to be a servant of some kind. He then readjusted the new crown on your head before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m afraid ve must hurry now, dear. As much as I vas looking forward to you staying in that absolutely gorgeous dress all night before I ripped it off I’m afraid ve have to change for the reception. If you could follow these vomen they shall take care of you. They are here to help you change and vill be transporting it to a museum for perservation before it’s placed on display. Tata for now-”

Xavier interrupted himself by letting out a little giggle that was somewhat muffled by the hand that slightly covered his mouth.

“-my wife.”

And with some guards he practically skipped off as he was lead away to some room as well.

~|~ (I decided to include the reception as well and a tiny bit of the honeymoon. Nothing too much, as I don’t write the stuff here, but you can use your imagination.)

The gardens were decorated quite beautifully and seemingly transformed into a place completely new.

Tables were now placed practically everywhere and a makeshift dancefloor was even set up for the outdoor venue.

A few tables held assortments of food, including the ginormous wedding cake, while most were occupied by guests you didn’t recognize in the slightest. At your circular table you now sat on your large throne right next to Xavier as his parents now sat on smaller ones. To your dismay your family was placed somewhat far away from this one as it would seem this is ‘royal only’.

Many guests danced to the classical music with the occasional modern dance song popping up every once in a while whilst others sat eating at their food.

Scattered across the place were various peacocks roaming around and it seemed they were wildly appreciated by all the guests that ‘ooohed’ and ‘ahhhed’ at them.

Next to Xavier Ivory and Ebony sat and you couldn’t help but note your disappointment that Marciel could not be here as he was currently going through heat.

Your face brightened consiberably as you saw your very own parents walk up to you.

“(Y/n)! Oh, how nice it is to see you!”

Your mother reached out to grab your hand but was stopped as a guard shifted his spear to block her path.

“Hmm? What’s going on?”

Xavier looked up and gave a large smile.

“Ah, mother-in-law, it’s lovely to see you again. I’m afraid that from now on no contact from others will reach my dearest wife again. They are not deserving of such pleasures.”

You could see your Mom quirk an eyebrow and interrupted her before she could speak up again.”

“Mom, it truly is lovely to see you here. I must admit I wasn’t told that you were coming so this was quite a wonderful surprise. Please do enjoy yourself here.”

You forced a smile on your face, hoping that would be enough to convince your Mom before Xavier blew a fuse and once she left with a huff you let out a breath.

You later ate to your content to make up for missed breakfast as you tried to savor every flavor in the steak and the other dishes laid out before you.

Many people would walk up with their well wishes and you were forced to just sit and nod as you were afraid a single word to a stranger would cause you to break.

You wished to truly join in on the party but instead settled on watching all who danced and laugh at the peacock who was currently screaming its little head out while running from a random man chasing it. You proceeded to laugh harder as the peacock got its revenge and instead it was the man screaming his heart out as it ran away from the peacock.

Time ticked by and the party ended as you stumbled into your now shared bedroom and unceremoniously plopped down onto the large bed.

You could hear Xavier open up his closet as he seemed to search for some clothese whilst talking.

“Dear if it’s alright with you I’ll take the first bath or if you wish you could always go to one of the other ones down the hall or in your old bedroom. Do keep in mind we will begin travelling tomorrow as we start our trip around the world. Your bags have already been packed but once again do keep in mind that we may be in a plane for a good couple of hours.”

With that he left through a side door and you could hear the water spilling from a nozzle as you begrudgingly got up and got ready for a bathe of your own.

~|~ (bath time over and time for the only thing you get to see of the honeymoon.)

You let out a yawn and stretched your arms as you stepped back into the bedroom in your now fresh set of pajamas. Once again you plopped down onto the bed with out taking a notice of the green eyes in the corner.

A yelp almost escaped your lips as you felt hands pushing down your body and felt a smile against the back of your neck.

“Don’t vorry, ve have plenty of time to explore. For now how about ve take it nice and easy.”

#wedding #xavier devorsky #yandere #yandere prince #yandere romance #royal wedding #ring #honeymoon #peacock #reception #yandere king #starcrossedyanderes

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hellas-himself · 5 years ago

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More Than Enough

Remember that self indulgent crack ship holiday fic I was writing about Cassian and Feyre? And how I couldn’t seem to mix the past with the present?

It’s a fic now. Still in the same AU just like... the year before. Leading up to the cheesy ass nonsense it is now. Originally it was going to be angsty at first but I think we have enough of that in our real life. If you haven’t read the crackship holidays featuring these two dumbasses, start here or on AO3.

Also. I promise all my other fics are not being abandoned.

I’ve had a playlist to listen to when writing them but it is so incredibly inappropriate if you understand spanish. and i haven’t made it onto spotify yet. But this song reminded me of them and that’s where the title comes from. Which is funny because Alina is who i put beside Toni Mafud as Rhys and Feyre whenever fan casts come up. ANYWAY.

Let’s follow Feyre as she thirsts after her best friend.

I blame it on the music.

Cassian lost his shirt about half an hour ago and is doing pull ups. The garage door is open, letting in the cold winter air. My fingers are cold but I don’t like wearing gloves when sketching. I had been working on hands and eyes but once he tossed his shirt… It’s not like I’ve never seen Cassian without a shirt on before. Between him and his brothers, they seem to always find an excuse to not wear one. But the difference is I don’t find myself daydreaming about what it would be like to run my fingers down their backs.

It’s definitely the music.

Even if I didn’t understand the words, the beat itself is way too sensual to not be about anything else but sex. But the lyrics and Cassian’s sweaty, half naked body mixed with the fact that I haven’t had sex in months is probably the worst mix. I am not supposed to be imagining sleeping with my best friend.

I clear my throat, startling Valo who was falling asleep at my feet.

“Sorry, baby, I need a drink.”

I set my sketch book and pencil down on the crate beside my chair.

“Would you get me a drink, bunny?” Cas breathes out and my face flushes all the more. I didn’t need another detail to this stupid daydream.

“Yeah,” I squeak and head into the house. I already know his post workout drink recipe by heart. I drink ice cold water while the blender is going.

Cassian is suspended in the air, holding his entire body parallel to the floor with his hands. Goddamn him. He drops his head back so that he’s looking at me upside down and he smiles.

“I love you,” he says and I roll my eyes.

“I’ll love you more if you don’t bust your ass.”

He chuckles and just to drive the nail in the coffin that is my desire to be the reason he’s making noises like that, he slowly lowers his body and resumes his pull ups. I set his cup on the table where he has his tools and go back to sit down.

Cassian drops down and walks over to his mat to do his cool down stretches. A new song comes on and the words are so filthy that I find myself staring at him. His tattoos. My ex-boyfriend had always believed I was into Cassian- and I wasn’t. But I wasn’t blind and I’ve been at his house almost every single day since Thanksgiving- he is always without a shirt.

It’s just the music.

“Plan on drawing me?” Cassian asks and I blink. I look away from his tattooed chest and to his face. He is smirking. Shit.

“Uh. Yeah. What better way to do anatomy studies than with a living reference?”

“Anatomy, huh?”

He flashes me a grin before he walks over to the table for his drink.

“Hey, what do you want for dinner?”

His question distracts me from looking at his ass.

“Uh, whatever you want… I’m not really craving anything.” Except you. I sigh and cover my face with my hands and lean over. I need a cold shower.

“Hey… You alright?” he asks softly.

I nod and slowly sit upright.

“I’m just… I’m fine. I promise.”

He doesn’t believe me but he walks over to grab his speaker.

“I love this song,” he says and starts to sing along to it as he gratefully goes back into the house.

Cassian meets me in the living room now dressed in a white tee and grey sweatpants. He lifts both my legs up so that he can sit down. This is normal. I always use his lap to rest my legs.

“I ordered Greek, I hope you don’t mind.”

“I told you, I’m not craving anything except-”

Fuck my entire life. Cassian raises a brow and I toss him the remote.

“Why don’t we finish your show so then we can watch my movie?”

This pacifies him and thankfully, his stupid show is so violent and bloody that all thoughts of fucking my best friend fade from my mind.

Our annual Christmas party is tonight and I’ve found an outfit. It is the kind of outfit Tamlin would have told me not to wear. It’s blood red and insanely inappropriate for winter with its spaghetti straps and super low neckline. Mor says it’s the perfect thing to wear after a break up and just the thought of all the pictures we’ll take with me and Cassian together makes me believe it.

I hang the dress up in the closet of Cassian’s bedroom. The heels are set beside his dress shoes and I can’t help but think about his reaction. Of dancing with him all night and coming back here and-

“Bunny!”

“I’m in the closet!”

I hear him chuckle.

“Shut up,” I call out and walk into the bedroom to find him pulling off his shirt. I feel my face go hot.

“I’m going to shower… do you want me to use the other bathroom?”

“What? No, this is your house,” I say far more casually than I feel. “Besides, we’ve got time, we can share.”

I want to punch myself in the face. Cassian starts to grin.

“The shower might be a little too small for the both of us but I’m sure we could find a way to-”

Cassian laughs when I smack his arm.

“Not exactly where I like being spanked but I’ll take it.”

“Oh my god, Cassian.”

He laughs and disappears into the bathroom. I force myself to leave the room when I hear the water.

Cassian walks into the kitchen in nothing but a towel, his hair wet, water dripping down his chest. He walks over and takes the sandwich from my hands.

“Fuck, we’re out of beer,” he mutters as he opens the fridge. I grab the second sandwich I made, expecting him to steal from my plate and force my gaze up. On his stupidly gorgeous face.

“I can go get some,” I say but he shakes his head and walks over to take my cup of iced tea.

“Are you cool with us taking a cab tonight?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

Cassian drinks from my cup and sets it down before pinching my cheek.

“It’ll just be you and me,” he says softly. “So don’t worry about it.”

I blush at this and Cassian kisses my forehead.

“I’m gonna go get dressed. Thanks for the snack,” he says with a wink and walks away.

I keep my makeup rather muted; lip gloss and the usual winged liner. Nude eyeshadow. Cassian picked out the highlight and I have to admit, he chose well. My hair isn’t going to get any better, so I leave it in loose waves rather than the curls I’d wanted. I’ll leave that to Mor. I feel nervous, this is the first time since the breakup that I’m going out with all of our friends but Cassian will be there, and that’s enough to ease my nerves. Almost.

“Our ride is here,” Cas says as he walks into his bedroom. He stops and just stares. I approach him and hold out my ID card and debit card, needing to ignore the way his attention has me feeling.

“I don’t have pockets.”

“What?” He blinks and looks down at my hand. He laughs and pulls his wallet out. “You only need your ID.”

“Maybe so,” I say and reach out to smooth down the collar of his shirt while he puts my cards away. I remember my lip gloss and put it in his back pocket, giving him a wink.

Cassian holds my hand when we go outside, helping me down the steps and the driveway. It’s a regular occurrence, but I blush when he opens the door for me. And when he slides an arm around my shoulders when he sits down beside me. We take a bunch of pictures and call Cassian’s parents to check on Val- as if we hadn’t seen him an hour ago.

When we get to the club, Cassian holds my hand as we walk inside. Cassian and the boys are all friends with the owner, so we get to skip the line.

“Where are we going?” I ask as Cassian leads us up to the VIP lounge.

“Meeting up with Rhys.”

“What’s he doing up here?”

Cassian chuckles. “You know Rhys never passes a chance to be extra as fuck.”

I can’t argue with that.

Upstairs, Cassian helps me out of my coat. His fingers brush my skin and my mind takes a swan dive into the gutter.

“What do you say to a few drinks before we go downstairs?” he asks as he takes my hand. The bouncer outside the lounge acknowledges us with a nod.

“Yeah, I could use it.”

Cassian flashes me a grin and then opens the door.

“SURPRISE!” Everyone shouts and I find all of our friends standing under a Happy Birthday banner.

I am at a loss for words and Cassian laughs, bringing me further into the room. I’d completely forgotten about my birthday, I hadn’t cared enough to even think that anyone else would. But Elain is here with Az. So is Rhys and Lucien, Amren, Varian. Viv and Kallias, too. I’m separated from Cassian as I’m hugged and kissed by everyone. I realize Tarquin and Cresseida are here as well. Rhys is the one who breaks open the first bottle and we all stand around the little table to take shots.

“There is a cake,” Elain says as she hands me another shot. “But that’s later.”

“Later?”

She winks at me and shouts for Azriel.

“That’s my favorite song!” she exclaims and her husband happily ditches his brothers to go out and dance with his wife.

Lucien and Rhys pull me in for another hug as the others begin to trail down to the dance floor.

“You look good enough to eat,” Lucien mumbles and I laugh.

“Don’t tell me you’re already drunk, Luce.”

“We may have pregamed at the house,” Rhys admits. “But we took an uber! It’s okay.”

I roll my eyes.

“You both suck. I’m going to go find me two other cute boys to dance with. Boys who would have invited me to pregame with them and no amount of flirting is going to fix that.”

They begin to whine and I laugh, holding onto Rhysand’s forearms as they keep me caged between them.

“Alright! You win!” I say with a laugh and look over to find Cassian looking my way. He smiles.

I want to ask him to dance but Mor pulls him away before I can open my mouth.

We drink and dance and drink and dance and drink some more. I feel light headed and everything makes me laugh. But I haven’t danced with Cassian yet and that’s enough to dampen the mood. I push my way through the crowd until I find Cassian at the bar. I take the empty barstool beside him and sit down. I order myself a margarita before turning to face him.

“And where have you been all night?” I ask and Cassian smirks.

“Enjoying the night,” he says and takes a sip of his drink.

“Without me?”

I don’t understand the look in his eyes as he takes a sip of his drink. He sets the glass down and leans forward. I didn’t really understand just how short this dress was until he lays his hand on my thigh. If I turn my chair completely, if he moves his hand just an inch more…

“Yes,” he says and kisses me cheek. “But I think I’m about to enjoy it more now.”

“Why?” I manage to say. Cassian’s hand brushes my thigh as he sits upright.

“I’m about to go dance with my best friend.”

“Are you now?”

My drink is set before me and I grab it, chugging it down as Cassian slides off his chair. He turns mine so that I’m facing him completely and puts his hands on my hips.

“If she says yes, of course.”

I finish the last of my drink and set down the glass.

“When have I ever said no to you?”

Cassian grins.

I have danced with Cassian many times. At parties, at the beach, at clubs and bars and festivals. At his parents’ house. I should be used to the feeling of his body against mine, of his hands on me while we dance but not like this. I want nothing more than to take him back up to the lounge and push him down on the sofa or go find an empty bathroom stall.

But I don’t.

Birthday cake and alcohol isn’t the best mix, but I haven’t felt this alive in months. My face hurts from laughing, from smiling. My vision is spotty from all the pictures we’ve taken but I don’t care. Everything is right in the world.

“My feet hurt,” I complain and sit on Cassian’s lap.

“Want me to rub your feet?”

I shake my head and lean into him.

“No. Not until I’m showered.”

He laughs. “Okay.”

I sigh when he wraps his arms around me. He is so warm and smells so good, I want to stay this way forever.

“I think the birthday girl is done for the night,” Rhys says teasingly and I realize I was dozing off. I look up to see Rhys standing there with a stupid smirk on his face.

“Fuck you,” I say and curl up in Cassian’s arms. I feel his hand holding my dress down from showing everyone else my ass.

“Tempting,” Rhys says and then shoves his hands in his pockets. “But I think I’ll pass.”

I don’t think much of the look Rhys gives Cassian in favor of playing with his hair. I take way too much satisfaction in the knowledge that not everyone gets to do this, and that he enjoys it. Cassian seems to win whatever silent staring contest he and Rhys were having and Rhys rolls his eyes and goes after his boyfriend.

“You’re making me sleepy, bunny.”

“Good thing we’re going home together then,” I say before my mind catches up. But Cassian only chuckles and hugs me a little closer.

Cassian and I are a laughing mess as we stumble into the house. I lean on him to step out of my heels and he laughs as I shrug off my coat and toss it at him. We’re both trying to catch our breath, and I swat his hand away when he tries to tickle me again.

“I’m taking a shower,” I breathe out and walk off but he stops me.

“Wait,” he says and I turn to find him smiling.

“What?”

“Happy birthday,” he says softly and pulls me in for a hug. “I promise I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Hm… you really know the way to a girl’s heart, Cas.”

He pinches my side and I yelp.

“Go shower,” he says and kisses the top of my head.

“I won’t be long.”

My shower is clumsy and not at all relaxing. My feet hurt. So I put lotion on my body and grab the bottle of perfume that is on the dresser, except it’s not perfume but cologne. I shrug and put on Cassian’s Nirvana tee shirt and double check I actually have underwear on before I go looking for him.

“Cas?” The house is dark save for the light coming from his room. “My feet fucking hurt.”

He says something but I don’t understand it. His room is open and I step inside, finding him lying on his bed. He’s got basketball shorts on and his hair is loose.

“Bunny!” he says as if he hadn’t seen me all day. “I almost busted my ass in the shower.”

“Me, too.” I say with a laugh. “Maybe we should’ve showered together. It would’ve been safer that way.”

“I like the way you think, Archeron.”

He holds his hand out to me and when I’m close enough, he pulls me into bed with him. “You smell good.”

I snort. “I smell like you.”

“Exactly.��

I swat his arm but he ignores it, putting his arms around me.

“My feet hurt,” I complain, hoping he’ll make good on his promise.

“Just stay here,” he says simply.

My heart stops and starts too fast.

“Like… sleep here?” I ask too quietly.

“Mhm.” He goes quiet for a moment and then groans. “I forgot to turn the light off.”

“I can do it,” I say.

“No… Stay here.”

He goes quiet once more, and I let myself relax. We haven’t shared a bed since we were kids, playing video games until Adela would force us to go to bed. I smile at the thought and rest my head against his chest.

“Goodnight, Cas,” I say quietly, my eyes getting heavy.

“Goodnight, bunny,” he says and lets me go to stretch. Then he wraps his arms around me again and moves us so that we’re on our sides. He presses a kiss to my forehead and I close my eyes, letting the warmth of him lull me to sleep.

@mythicaitt @bookloveaffair @nalgenewhore @candid-confetti

#more than enough #cassian x feyre #crackship #and absolute self indulgence #him calling her bunny will be the end of me #i dont care what's canon #or that feyrhycien is everything to me

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whatsthenameofthisgame · 4 years ago

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Intergalactic Interrogations (II)

"Where am I?"

[What do you mean?]

"Instead of just sitting there moving blood all day, and failing roughly might I add,- Are you recording this conversation? That's disrespectful, I'll have you know we started learning binary and ridiculous little facts about your friend. I don't know who raised you wrong,"

[Hey.}

"I'd- {emmited} have you forget. Speak English numb for brawl! *maybe there is a slap here*"

["Go to the top 10 close or near you everywhere you go that you consider the smartest people in the world & become their best friends foreverest...," I drawl out every one of my answers like a disgusting fountain, yet they aren't happy with any of them. To think it all could have started with a scared girl asking me what I know and warp through timespace paranoia, or that quantum mechanics has caused this all to be real.]

"Here's (apparently) what living sages do they write all of the time. And they secretly don't give a fuck what anyone thinks about them."

[I'm listening to someone write the show for me, I don't always connect parts of my brain with other parts so well, but when I don't its's because I'm completely mental that I can make things out as other sounds.]

"He inserted apparently over us. What a dick head."

[I was writing before this as well. Get ready for another roundabout of Intergalactic Interrogations]

["How would you describe this, Fake Judas(2) what kind of situation do we have here? Remember, I'm made to forget and then reremember again."]

"It's very logical. It's simple. You have to have a Marine Corp mindset in infilitrating the cause."

[I am both afraid and completely unafraid of what I am doing. To be afraid of this silly game would be ridiculous and stupid. On the other hand he's been learning from me as I learn from him-]

"He's been completely thinking ridiculous things over what we're saying. He's a whoremonger." ""IT IT,"" maybe demons scream, but I am untethered from the boulder like a chain beneath the ocean, the weight simply presses into the sand. The fishes swim around as I wander in my drowning to the top where the ship is safe in the sunlight.

[On the other hand- quantum questions pose like prose, possessing possibly - I ignore FakeJudas(2). It is hard to keep up with everything. I need a writer still. I turn to Affiliate. Please have Alliteration do her thing without guiding us into rap for hours on end again, thank you very much. Affiliate looks confused and furious, for I often thought he was on the wrong end of the job spectrum ever since our staycation in the fire bird land of no sounds, place of the falsified Gods, faces in the spaces, The Devil's home of Peter's ignorances ... Anyway where was I? It is really hard to keep up with everybody and everything. There is a whole plot line, that I feel truly matters, and we are all missing it for the amount of activity going on in all of your heads while I've got mine. Is it mine? To start. Or are all of these conversations I'm tapping into the way of the real brain. Every particle of water an ocean? Every idea a world of thought? I already thought so. It isn't time for creative freedoms. I think we are supposed to focus on my suicide. For the sake of suicide. "Aha! Where we were last standing, one of the better reasons why I have roses elegantly and unevenly tattooed on my fingers. They're both cocked and one is in my mouth outright, while the other is at you. It was in your hands, and I gave you the tools necessary to save it. Save your belly aching. Every bit of paranoia, was it real, or were you trying to induce it? Save it for the masses. I know it's always a little bit of both. And that the most obvious answer is usually the truth. Variety is the best spice- and I'll have at my dad's pizza with way too much spice, for the loving good Grace from which Moses parted the water of life into place, (I am making a Tokyo MewMew joke that is a bit elongated) the V for which has He, Friends With Time, Drawer of Lord Excalibur when I actually love myself, rainbow gay pride I've forgotten uniciorn chapter books volume one and two powers activate!) *I start to turn, /now I am not paying attention to anything as I mash jokes into my own life story./

"This is what we paid for. This is disgusting filth. Think you can handle it?"

Think you can handle it? Would Filthy Frank even read this shit right here? We didn't even pay for all of these references. We're just hoping we get so many more people on team blue than team red so that we're able to just diss the suing right out of the waters like a lotus. Hah! Get that. I'm named after water so I'm doing water jokes. Listen, kid. I have heard a lot of jokes from the demons. You really don't want to start with me. I'm trained to accept them as a compliment, which I was saying back before we were all *I'm channeling Filthy Frank's voice in a ricefields sunhat visor right here* simple and shit. Now they are even trying to insult me with compliments and it's working. Listen, you never did knew that evil was good and proper and right. There was a new face of evil on the block, and it was the face of a genius sociopathic borderline child.

"Oh my God, You really do think like you're God."

[Guess what. Bitches, I have Autism so I cannot understand the emotional connotation in your words. Knowing that, I interpret it as fast as crazy, which is why no sweat because I also know that sometimes that's exactly what you're doing. Meaning I think of many ideas and crap. Your every thought could come to me like an intellectual process. I have no way of being.]

"Do you think you're special? Stay on topic please, I've seen we've gone a little socio today lady."

["I am silent. All is the same in my canoe which is made of wood and has travelled from hell through the underground rivers to the open and vast, great sea. Cold, or hot, shivering or sweating, thirst or hunger, war, famine, fire, flood, I know that I must and can navigate through it and 'round, 'round again, for this canoe and its lantern was tethered to my soul, it was tethered to my idea of neutral state meditation through chaotic forces. I was the canoe, one could say. I was the ship. Or the wood. The wood which came from the tree. Maybe The Tree. A Tree of Time, careful creature, making friends with it. And as the tree, and with brainwaves being like a tree, and all things one in the same, I made a hollow for those beyond to perch before they fade to worlds-"]

"This is artinery, itternerary(?) Get to the point."

[Often what I say, I sort of contribute to ghosts and other things.]

"This is what we get out of you? Jesus. (What are you, Santiago?) What happened to the sainthood?"

["Indeed I am Santiago, Another one of my many names, Dare ye say it, (Which they didn't.)]

"Look at what this kid is thinking of completely loaded. I think that maybe it is hilarious. Or perhaps all his excuses for crap."

[Indeed that all of this content was now filler. JENGA was on hiatus since the before times. We cannot remember those Interrogation Negotiations. But they were amazing. We have screenshots of half of them and had to delete the better half because they were too good and terrifying. We will try to interpret the rest of them someday (soon?).]

[The prophet wasn't just an excuse I made up. It was A Dream. A Dream that one day we will live not by the color of our skin, but by the confusing and complex mental makup which propels us towards the best future for us evolutionarily. Forget about that, everything. Like you have made me, by my words, let us start from the beginning.

Two systems learning from each other causes complex interactions to occur, especially when both have different and unfair advantages over each other. One could say each part of the brain that makes up the whole is its own complex system.]

"Stop talking about them to other people. I hope they rot for what they did to those people."

[Here is a classic bit where I have the chance to explain how either The Devil or The Enemy (FakeJudas2) Might try to make me look like the culprit. Reverse Psychology. It works on me. Which is why my card is chaotic. I don't want you to know what I'm doing, and if you do, then why should it matter what I do? It seems the whole world knows and yet no one knows. God knows what nobody feels like, because he is like us, we are made in his image. If I am nobody, he is nobody. So nobody knows just as well enough as anybody knows. But in both parts give or take, there are still bodies. Lot's of bloody and mutilated bodies which The Enemy has made of my Friends' & Loved One.]

/I take le break/

Depending on how serious JENGA gets, we have to use different members of the army through me. How did we get here, how is this all possible. It is a really meaningful story with lots of science, but we do not have infinite time. I will try to get to that at most.

"What about your boyfriend,"

["For the sake of Einstein, for the sake of proving you can go from Autism to full-blown socio, that realizing the brain works in the way that it does, and that it is all of your faults for being stupid assholes. It my fault for being a stupid asshole. And God is My Judge. Not You."]

"So, are you planning on telling him about any of this, or do you not know how important he is?"

["For the sake of insanity, genius is found."]

"Are you still completely avoiding the question? And how is it that he knows we're watching him for? Does he complete God in the blood?"

[Some things I do not understand. Or remember, or reitterate well. Catch me on drugs. Dattebayo! *flashback* Dattebayo was where it all started. The ten men, pandora's box, the stories, the puzzles, the lands across, the signs, a single time fine dining, and it is also there but not completely all-there.]

"So dattebayo was where it all started, huh? How embarrassing for one so wasted on the regular."

["Never giving up. Dattebayo. Believe it." "How about the story of the modulators some more? Before or after they were modulators? I have many stories to entertain you."]

"even when the conversation is all dead he has a way of going more crazy." a girl chimes in "He's probably been listening to what we are saying and considering it as JENGA."

he continues "Tell me a story to entertain me, that is what I am here for, give me a wild ride, show me some lude-icrous, something more, vivid, that shows me your kind of ideal lifestyle."

["You sounded like the villain in Tarzan for a second there. Well that's me, Tarzan. Me. Need. Jane. Didn't think I could play her. Rub the mud on my face, ask my monkey mother why I am not like them, she says to wipe the mud off.]

"I'm getting more curious, about what you're doing... you can write more than pages, you can write a book."

[I have, it's something I've always been working on. I've written loads of books, just lost, unpublished, deleted... How about I get really high and have someone speak through me now that we're getting down to the odds and ends. Let's get to the nitty-gritty of it. Once you find a way to constantly market off of things that might bother you, you have struck gold my son. The idea however, is to make them better, not worse, so they have a reason to last through the ages. Easier said than done...]

"He/She talks like an old wheezer. They can't- Can they hear me? Can they hear over our conversations? *plethoras of someones' breathy Oh my Gods" over everything. That means they know we're here, they can really hear us! Good job,"

[Did the dialogue switch into a ghosts' narration? It is hard to tell without any figures to watch with my eyes, and the words coming with systems built into a natural Ouija of my own. I won't literally raise hell again, yet... it is always tempted. And must be avoided. We're stepping too close to stories of old. The quantum questions must be pressed. Think harder. I don't know what it is you're thinking, I'm only typing. I am a genius if we aren't psychic, and a numbskull for God if we are All One.

The modulators can be set to different configurations, and put into different settings and events to see the initial outcomes in a module. At all of the Modulators worst configurations, M for their last name is capital. A good example of perfect awful configurations is religious reenactments by a family module within my own person. One's nature is that of a dads', Two is that of a moms', Three is that of a sons', four is that of a daughters', And the configurations always leans towards the predominantly biased neutral algorithyms.

Too much math, too may graphs to come, not sure how to organize it all, so we will have to say, partay.]

"So it feels like you're being taken advantage of by everything." my best friend asks me as my mom may also paranoidly be bothering my brother about me in the distance because I am typing so fast in the middle of the night.

[We've has this conversation before, so it's GroundHog day, only bigger, it's a show.]

"That's what we've been trying to tell you, You should write a show instead of bothering, us."

["Where is Jeremy Todd Ewbank?" I am the horseman, or headless, all the numbers, and the dungeon master because we currently already have a dab master, so you can Direct Message me the answer, Because I'm the Daniel Manual you've been looking for.]

"Jeremy Ewbank is not with us anymore. He's literally done. He can barely breath from your shit."

[The interrogations go haywire as soon as they begin again. Which one of us is being interrogated. "What happened to Jeremy Ewbank. Don't make me rhyme a hundred things with master in a bad rap. Aye, you know that gurl was my princess. You know, we know, we would never let go of or throw away one another, so where is he, *I put an invisible gun, but because I have written this, I will always be paranoid of them. We have to avoid them.

Evacuation Strategies: Red dots: Fun if you're a cat, dangerous if it is a gun. Shrodinger's Gun.

I take a break from interrogations because of laziness and lack of drugs. "JENGA," I claim, and the imaginary tower falls. How to explain a thing about creative manifestation to you, about all of the wild possibilities? So hard, I'd rather play Nintendogs for three hours.]

This is breaking bread with thine enemy

#writing #crack #Intergalactic Interrogations #Intergalactic crack #Intergalactic #Interrogations

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dullwriting · 5 years ago

Text

|| pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

|| warnings: angst I guess? | so cliché | written by a non-native | a lot of swearing

|| word count: 1.975

|| summary: You seduce influential men for a living, the job being too much for you initially, because it usually ends in their killing, but the money you make, let’s say, helps your conscience. That is until it’s time to give up your current target - Thomas Shelby, the poor motherfucker and yeah ...I’ll say it... love of your life.

If someone were to call me a whore, I’d thank him.

My profession was far more irreverent than that, not leaving room for doubts or a healthy conscience. Healthy was my body however, as the amount of men I slept with was manageable.

I was far worse than a whore, because a whore’s intentions are clear as day.

She gets paid by a client, who – mostly – knows what he wants, they perform the act, he leaves, full stop. The service simply consists of sweaty skins rubbing against each other, a visceral dance being performed, the communication reduced to muscle contraction and crude sounds leaving parted lips. The one and only purpose being ejaculation, one’s body just a means to an end.

My service was a different one.

“Everyone’s a whore, Grace, we just sell different parts of ourselves.” A statement once made by my current target, victim or however you prefer to call it, meant solely for the ears of his blonde Irish barmaid.

That was the particular day, I realised, I was worse.

Far worse than everyone for there was hardly a part of me I didn’t sell to the person my clients wanted dead.

Paid I was not by simple working men who craved some sort of release or stress relief nor horny upper class arseholes who were bored shitless at home while also thirsting for power over yet another poor soul. Clients of mine, they desire quiet similar things but on a much bigger scale, outside the four walls of damp rooms filled with grunts and moans and vulgarity.

Priests worse than the devil they point at, politicians worse than the - I quote - “scum that votes for them”. To eliminate their competition, I shall seduce party leaders or gang leaders or bloody royals, anyone with too much influence for some other influential bastard’s liking. Make sure to involve feelings, in order to make their target emotionally vulnerable so they make mistakes and take risks and bullets for someone who doesn’t even care for them.

Let me rephrase that. Someone who shouldn’t care.

My first targets I indeed treated with cold professionalism, barely ready – but still ready to feed them to those sharks. My first two times, I actually witnessed the job being done, hiding behind doors or brickwork, apparently more involved than I told myself after all, drowning my guilty conscience afterwards in expensive booze, the most expensive they could offer, to remind myself what I was suffering for.

The money I earned was indeed more a regular whore could ever ask for, but at what cost?

The muffled gun shot I heard from afar the first time made my throat close up for real and for a solid two minutes I thought I was suffocating, wondering what the fuck they put in my tea and how naive I’d been to believe my client would let me live after being informed of his plans. Eventually I realised it was my own weakness strangling me which force I underestimated. Life’s little ironies.

The next stimulus that caused the contents of my stomach to rise up to my again closed throat was a thud behind closed doors which gave me a good enough picture of my target’s limp body colliding with the ground. He had proposed to me beforehand. I looked down a bridge that night.

After that I never again mustered up the sufficient amount of courage to attend the inevitable killings after a job well done. There was no third time. It made all the difference.

That had been the case until the gravelly voice on the other end of the line breathed out the two words I feared the most, ever since I cried into the sheets of my first and probably last target I not only pitied but loved. “It’s time.”

“No!”, I screamed at the device, before I could detain it. Fuck. They knew now. They knew I fell in love with Thomas Shelby and now refused to give him up. They knew they had to kill me for I was too much of a menace. The deafening sound of a disconnected line brought me back to reality. I tossed those bloody high heels to the side while sprinting down the street, barefoot, my delicate skin rubbing against the material closest to my personality: the stinking horse shit of Small Heath.

“You’ve saved me.” were the words Thomas had mumbled into my chest tightening with sadness and regret at three o’clock in the morning after I’d comforted him once again, reassuring him that the terrible screams and shots and shovels weren’t real, his subconscious still trying to process war.

“You’ve betrayed me.” were the words Thomas choked out as soon as I barged into his office, out of breath, wet cheeks and horse shit stuck to my soles. Of course he found out before I could save him. He was Thomas Shelby after all and my client just a criminal bakery owner, an amateur in comparison.

“Yes, Thomas.” was my short answer while glaring at the ground. It was spinning.

At any moment I’d throw up.

What was I to reply instead? “No, Tommy, not yet. In fact, I was about to tell you.” That he wouldn’t quite believe. “Tommy, I’m sorry.” That he would laugh or scoff at. “Tommy, I love you. More than anything in this world.” That statement would be either followed by an outburst or an unbearable silence, judgemental and heavy.

For a split second his eyebrows rose up in something I identified as surprise, then he composed himself again. His cold and distant expression however couldn’t hide the hurt I spotted in his glassy blue eyes. Just then I registered my own eyes stinging as tears were uncontrollably streaming down my pale cheeks. I made no sound, just stared at him, silently crying.

“Shoot me, Thomas”, I ordered, voice surprisingly steady. The crease between his eyebrows reappeared on his smooth skin, I so longed to caress one last time.

“What?”, he blurted out. I took a deep breath, exhaling shakily as my eyes darted to the presumably loaded weapon sitting atop some papers wildly scattered across his desk. This was it, then.

“Just get it over with!”, was what I wanted to shout at him. My emotions got the best of me, however. “I know, I’m in no position to make demands, but do me that favour, Tommy. It’s the best option for me.”, I ended up saying instead.

Curiosity washed over his face. He was no longer trying to hide his own emotions, serving as a cue for me. I owed him an explanation, at least that. “The other options, you ask? Being killed by that Jewish bastard for betraying him. I refused to give you up this morning, he probably already sensed my true feelings for you long before, that’s why he accelerated the process. That or the worst option. You killing him first, leaving me to live without you but with that crushing guilt. I’d have to end it myself eventually. You know me well enough, Thomas. I don’t have the courage to commit suicide. The parts I sold were all true in the end. That is how much I love you.”

He didn’t respond, didn’t need to. The grip around the gun he had picked up during my confession weakened, his hand visibly shaking. I was smarter than to act upon the sudden hope flooding my chest, trying hard to ignore it.

“In the bleak midwinter-��, I started then, interrupted by the loud clattering of steel against hollow wood. He let go off the weapon, the blue of his eyes now surrounded by a reddish rim. My lids immediately shielded my burning eyes from the scenario before me, my heart too broken to witness Tommy crying, not over me, not now.

Looking away, not seeing the consequences, that makes all the difference. All the difference.

How wrong I was. Hearing his voice, laced with sadness, barely above a whisper, that made it even worse. “Shut up!”, I hollered through my sobs.

“Actually-“

I opened my eyes again, seeing how it was of no use, nervously running a hand through my hair. “Please, shut up, Tommy! Don’t make this worse! For Christ’s sake, just shoot me! Fucking get it over with already!”

I didn’t notice the door handle being pushed down behind me, someone entering the room while I screamed at him in between pathetic sobs, fighting for breath afterwards, the oxygen not wanting to reach my burning lungs. Once again, I was suffocating, grabbing my throat with numb hands, panic and adrenaline rushing through my increasingly weaker body. As soon as I felt a pressure on my shoulder, I sank to my knees, coughing and choking violently. Somewhere in the distance I heard Polly’s voice, filling the room with curse words and instructions. The last thing I heard.

Countless voices overlapping, chairs screeching and the sound of heels clicking made me realise how busy hell was and how there was no light at all, just noise and heat nagging at my back pressed against a rather soft surface. That was until a searing pain shot through my head as a wave of harsh, glaring light flooded my blurry vision I recovered all of a sudden.

I moaned at the sensation, causing the noise to die down for a second. “She’s back!”, someone announced surprisingly thrilled and it took me a solid thirty seconds to recognise the voice that belonged to none other than Arthur Shelby.

Hell would’ve been busier and too good to be true.

“You had a panic attack.” “You fainted, love”, Polly and Ada exclaimed in unison before I realised that I was staring at them, a bewildered frown plastered on my face.

“Tom?”, was the only syllable I managed to croak out before a painful coughing fit disrupted me. Probably for the better. To my right I heard an all too familiar voice mumbling my name, my head snapped into his direction.

“Why-“ I cleared my throat. “Why am I still alive?” The question seemed to amuse and sadden him all at once as the corner of his mouth twitched upwards, yet it never reached his eyes.

“I knew”, he finally spoke up. “I knew it all, just waited until you’d tell me. Alfie should’ve made a bigger effort, dealing with the Peaky Blinders, with me of all people, therefore I knew. Also, I knew that you actually loved me.” I gulped, feeling my lips tremble as I was close to crying again.

“You talk in your sleep. You also talk to Polly, about me among other things and Polly obviously talks to me and, you know, she’s never wrong.” That earned a satisfied grunt and a breathy chuckle from the rest of the Blinders.

“I- I don’t understand”, I finally confessed, looking up at him through my lashes. “You were about to shoot me for treason, weren’t you?” That made him look down and my stomach drop. I’d never learn, would I? Let that bloody hope and bloody hormones cloud my judgement every time. He’d have pulled the trigger eventually, if it wasn’t for me fainting.

“Actually, no. After I was informed of your client’s instructions I lost my patience. The gun wasn’t loaded, I just wanted to point it at your head to get you to finally confess, to teach you a lesson, whatever.” A long sigh left his lips.

“Somehow I couldn’t even get myself to point an unloaded weapon into your direction, that’s how much I love you.” I shivered at his choice of words, the last part of the sentence sounding awfully familiar.

“If it’s not you who kills me, it’s him. You’re not the only one I deceived”, I insisted.

“A dead man can hardly harm you”, he chuckled in response.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby

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